Category Archives: Blog

A Season to forget

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The clocks moved forward, the snow is gradually disappearing and warmer days in the Northeast are coming. But what a winter this has been – and what havoc it has wreaked on the airline industry and the poor passengers who fly on their planes. Flights have been cancelled for mechanical and weather-related issues, you name it and it’s happened. It all added up to a very un-pretty scene of disgruntled passengers and airline employees desperately trying to be nice. There are always those un-nice ones that secretly do this for a living, because they hate you so much. But during the dreaded storms of February, they were often left without options to be nice with. It’s helpful to know why the flight got cancelled: a mechanical problem means that the airline will cover your accommodations. A snowstorm?….hope you brought your sleeping bag because that means you’re sleeping at the airport. Bottom line is to stay calm and try to figure out what’s going on as fast as possible.

So what is the real cost factor for the airlines on a cancelled flight, and what are the driving forces that cause one flight to cancel and another to fly? There was a great article in the Wall Street Journal by Scott McCartney. Here’s the lowdown: To cancel a 50-passenger regional jet can cost as little as $1,000. But cancelling a journey over the Atlantic can cost as much as $43,000. And a typical domestic narrow-bodied jet costs around $15,000 to cancel. If cancellations are caused by uncontrollable events like weather disruptions, the costs go down – it’s an act of God and you have to sleep at the airport.  No hotel vouchers for you!

And the food can cost as much as $13,000 for a wide-bodied international trip. That’s $40 on average, per meal. Are you kidding me?! Despite the high average I can tell you – what they serve in business and first class sure doesn’t balance out the cost of the lousy meals served in economy. To be sure, business class passengers get all the perks – they might even get your plane if there is something wrong with yours. They’ll take an airplane that you might be on, with a whole bunch of “less important people” and switch out your plane, just so these guys can get to where they’re going!  Airlines don’t like to cancel these business travelers – they’re frequent travelers and they will complain. I know. Hey, that’s life in the fast lane.

Confessions of a Photoholic: The art formerly known as prints

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I remember those days clearly. Ten canisters of black and white triex and ten canisters of ectochrome 400. Life was simple. Shots were precious. Moments were calculated. Settings were moved around. The mystery was in the box – only to be revealed, often too late, when you returned home. I have trays of slides and sheets of contact photos that I need to get into the digital environment.

And now I don’t even carry a camera. I take my iPhone and capture moments like they were a dime a dozen. And guess what, the moments are pretty good. I delete, I forward, I post to Facebook. I throw them into Dropbox and make them part of my lock screen. Never get prints. Unless my mum says, “where are all those photos you took of me?” The photography sometimes amazing, even if I do say so myself. The videos better than that great big thing you used to lug around.

I am torn, of course. I still have my Nikkomat camera, a clunky 1970s piece of art where I learned to take photographs, determining F stops and ASA, getting the right setting – all for that one shot. I miss those days sometimes – the excitement of getting home and seeing whether you really did nail the shot. It was a time to behold.

The Tale of Two Toilets

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A Tale of Two Toilets

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. A journey across the Alps often began in medieval times  at the ancient crossroads of the Castle of Chillon; beautifully situated on the Northern Shores of Lake Leman, it is a stunning sight engulfed by snowcapped mountains. This fortress was rarely breached, and inside the fort to this day, there are fantastic remnants of original furnishings, art work and tapestries.

The most interesting thing of all, are the ancient latrines – jutting out over the lake, some forty feet higher than the lake itself, the auto flush was better than your state-of-the-art septic system.  Interestingly enough, the latrines were considered a vulnerable aspect of the fortress.  When attack was imminent, considerations had to be made to deter the onslaught, all sorts of nasty organic weapons could be used. Biological warfare!  Probably everyone in the castle was force fed prunes before the attack.  In other words, if someone wasn’t sitting on the latrine at all times, the fort was vulnerable and the kingdom could be breached!

toilet

Fast forward to modern day: the Swiss have gotten a heck of a lot better with their state-of-the-art latrines, but over on the Italian side of the Alps, things look pretty much the same as they did in the 13th Century in the Chateau de Chillon. All apparently in the name of hygiene, at least that’s what my Italian friend told me. Yeah right! I’ll take my chances.

Ice Cream in the London Theater

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Ice Cream in the London Theater

It’s not just a matter of –re or –er, though for some it’s enough to start a polite brawl,  if you love theatre you’re sure to have an opinion about Broadway vs. West End.  An argument for why London theatre is superior, an argument which has no rebuttal, is a simple one:  Broadway doesn’t have ice cream in the auditorium. The West End theatres do.

Theatre in London, despite prevailing stereotypes, is not a posh affair.  It feels much like a sporting event at half-time – vendors with ice cream on trays and everyone clamoring for the elusive strawberry cup. My choice, always vanilla. Losely Ice Cream is the crowd favorite. The utensil? The best wooden tiny spoon available, of course!  And let’s not forget the wine with your name on it, that you’ve pre-paid at the beginning of the show. It is why I simply cannot abide no intermission theatre!

To my mind, the key element of a play is an intermission glass of wine (probably put you to sleep) and then an intermission ice cream cup (definitely keep you up) to see the rest of the play. The downside of taking your ice cream with you to your seat, is that when the lights go down, there’s a fairly good chance that you might miss your mouth. And ice cream does drip after all! Still it keeps you on your toes, and more importantly keeps you awake during dreary performances. In addition, Ice Cream keeps you deliciously satiated during uplifting performances.  I’ve drifted off. It’s happened to me, it will happen to you. It’s happened in London and New York – and usually it is measured by the quality of the performance. Feeling sleepy? Bad play. Definitely need ice cream.

The plays come and go – some spectacular, others forgettable. But what never disappoints, is the ice cream. The history of ice cream in the theatre is up for debate, it was certainly introduced sometime toward the end of the 19th century and almost certainly by an Italian, or some say a Swiss Italian. Talking of posh affairs, it was actually introduced to the Royal Opera House as late as 1967.

Quite recently I saw an Arthur Miller play in London and had seats on the stage. The seats were fabulous, the play “View from the Bridge,” was amazing. But there was no intermission AND ice cream was barred from the stage seating. As much as I loved the performances, I couldn’t recommend it!

Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon

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Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon

Nothing is open and because it’s the law, shops can’t open either.  My first thought is that it’s because the shops took all my money between Monday through Friday. When you charge $15 for a cappuccino why bother opening on a Saturday or a Sunday? In fact, the prices in Switzerland seem to be calculated on fewer sales’ days per year.

At first one resists the urge to slow down because It seems so unnatural, and life screeches to an abrupt halt on a weekly basis.  But perhaps it is this forced relaxation that keeps the Swiss culture so balanced.  So on a Sunday you go for walks if the weather is nice; you watch dreadful TV,  take photos with Charlie Chaplin (with detox in the background) purely coincidental, or go skiing again.  The resorts and other tourist points of interest, of course, are exempt from this law.

Walking around Lausanne looking for somewhere to grab a bite, grab a beer or grab a cab even, is a mission improbable. Let that one go, yah, it’s nice to go from Evian to Lausanne on a boat, but even the boat doesn’t provide too much in the way of refreshments on a Sunday. Overall it reminded me of Britain in the 1950s. Governed as we were at the time, by laws created by the Lord’s Day Observance Society, we were forbidden from having fun, from buying anything.  Our television programs were centered around songs of praise and TV would end at 11:00pm on the dot. I used to simply loathe Sundays.

My Sunday in Lausanne took me back to the glory days of the 50s, but was saved by a visit to the fabulous Hermitage and the Olympic Museum.  Crowded by tourists and Lausannians, looking for something to do on a Sunday, other than ski.

Skiing is Believing

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Skiing is Believing (especially when you get old)

When you can’t see a thing
in front of you, visibility is zero,
and your confidence
is becoming increasingly
shattered – skiing is believing.

When the possibility of being plowed
over by a 16 year-old going 100mph
or dropping into the crevasse
never to be found again is increasing
and you have to anticipate the mogul
around the corner.

Somehow you have to believe
the skis will guide you home.
As improbable as it seems
at 10,000 feet in a blizzard.

Man against nature,
the will to survive,
will carry you through.

And this is on piste,
on an intermediate slope.

 

 

Introduction to Swiss Economy 101

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Introduction to Swiss Economy 101

Now that the Swiss Franc is finally unplugged from the Euro and prices have gone up by around 30%, Switzerland has finally come clean and taken over from Norway and Japan as the most expensive cup of coffee in the world. Even more expensive than that is St. Mark’s Square!  It got me to thinking, what is it about this landlocked country that was famous for its neutrality during the war, what is it that makes this place such a success?  Walking through Geneva airport, you are struck by ads for banks, watches and Roger Federer, but what is the economy of Switzerland really all about?

It’s a mélange of laundered money, dry cleaned money, and ill-gotten money in banks protected by mountains (of bureaucracy) and lakes of cash – and lots of fresh air to hide the dubious underbelly. Throw in cheese, tourism, pharmaceuticals, and skiing and you have an ideal setting for The Sound of Music and the perfect setting for my annual ski trip.

Ski Diet Recipes

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Why do people ski in Switzerland?  Because if they didn’t, they’d weigh 400 pounds.  I’ve taken the liberty of finding some links to my favorite Swiss recipes.
1.       Rosti potatoes with fried eggs and ham Eating Well Recipe.
2.       Fondue (melted cheese ) with bread and potatoes (photos)
4. I’m surprised there aren’t cheese doughnuts. Oh wait, upon further research, there are.
Thank goodness I only head to Switzerland on an annual basis – cheese in these quantities is not sustainable for any heart.

This Month’s Adventures: A Swing Around Switzerland!

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I love the drive from Geneva to Zermatt: a long transition from moderate temperatures to ski station weather. The drive around Lake Geneva is stunning, passing Lausanne and Montreux with distant ski resorts across the other side of the lake. The real changes come as we catch our first glimpse of the cog railway, a beautiful red snake-like train that winds through the valleys and mountains. We are heading to Tasch, where a huge underground car park sits. Everyone drops their cars off, grabs a baggage trolley, and transfers ski contents from the car to the trolley. Then it’s to the station for the cog rail to Zermatt. The journey takes about 30 minutes.  It’s a slow climb, winding around the snowy valley floor and under the shadow of the giant Matterhorn. In Zermatt, it’s a short walk to the hotel: no cars except electric taxis. On to the Hotel Alex….it feels like home.

Chapter 3: Snowconomics and Why Someone Else Should Shovel Your Snow

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Chapter 3:  Snowconomics and Why Someone Else Should Shovel Your Snow

Shoveling snow is a New England tradition; a tradition we’d largely escaped this winter season. It almost seemed the snow wouldn’t come – a signal of global warming? Just days after two snow storms heralded in record amounts of snow, it now appears that Mother Nature was simply playing tricks on us.

Soon after the snow comes “the shovelers.”  Like Christmas Carolers, they bring joy to those that open the door. “Do you need your car shoveled out? On its face, a straight-forward question.  But deep within the syntax lurks a challenge to one’s virility. A man does not NEED to have his car shoveled out. He is able-bodied. He should throw himself into the trenches and dig along with the rest of them. Shoveling snow has long been perceived to be a man’s duty, like barbecuing.  But the truth is, the casual snow shoveling industry is a chance to spread the wealth to those in need. With public transit systems in disarray, many lower-wage earners find themselves in a pinch. Many take to the streets, offering to shovel out their neighbors.

It’s an underground industry – cash only. Though I’m sure this would be an opportunity for Square and other mobile payment mechanisms. But here’s the thing, if you have a good salary and you feel that shoveling snow is a great way to work out, remember you’re breaking the economic cycle. The fact is if you want to keep fit, go to the gym. There’s a guy walking along the street with a shovel who needs your money. And he’ll do a better job than you.

 

Chapter 2 – Top 5 Things You Need to Know about Snow

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Chapter 2 – Top 5 Things You Need to Know about Snow

I’m learning things about snow that I never cared to know. And yet now that I know, I feel richer, a more well-rounded citizen. I thought I’d share with you:

  1. Ice Dams are a thing and they can crush your roof. The best of all these tips is the last one (move to Florida).
  2. There won’t be a Boston Snow Party. Much to the chagrin of pun people everywhere, snow can’t just be dumped into the ocean. Well it can, but then the fish might die and Legal Sea Foods new slogan could be, “If it doesn’t taste like snow melt, it’s not legal.”
  3. Jet-Engine propelled snow plows are a thing, It’s called Snowzilla and watching the video just forces the question. Are we living in the 80s when it comes to snow removal? You bet. Using a giant hair dryer to clear railway lines is as good as it gets.
  4. Snow Farms are also a thing  Or a misnomer really, as they don’t grow snow here. It just gets dumped, sometimes into a giant furnace. So why do they call it a farm? Horses, cows, vegetables, corn – that’s what I think of when I think of a farm. So this isn’t really a farm. I just don’t really know who came up with this word for a wasteland to dump snow. Maybe next spring, unaccountable alien forms will start growing in this space.
  5. Men driving 10 ton snow plows are working 16 hour days.  Everyone, let’s face it. Wants just a few hours riding high on a snow plow. What a feeling, pulling the lever, dumping the salt, clearing the snow. Working through the night. These guys are the real heroes of our city. Where’s their Duck Boat Parade?

The Boston Snow Chronicles

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The Boston Snow Chronicles

Chapter 1:  Navigating Boston in the Winter Storm Season

Boston received more snow last week than any other week-long period in history. And then we had a parade.  The two are not connected; the New England Patriots winning the Super Bowl right on the heels of the worst snow week ever, was as unlikely as the Pats’ rookie Malcolm Butler interception. But it happened.

The timeline:

  • Sunday night the Patriots won. The most glorious fourth quarter ever played in a Super Bowl.
  • Monday the snow won and shut the city down.
  • By Tuesday Boston was already brushing off the snow:  the schools reopened, as did the government buildings and suddenly everyone was back on the roads.
  • It deserves its own bullet-point. The T was and still is a nightmare. Does Boston really think we’ll get the Olympics with this subway system?
  • And on Wednesday – in the midst of mountains of snow, of all things, the city of Boston brought out the Duck Boats to carry our glorious heroes and handsome Tom around the clogged up streets, amidst adoring fans.

So we celebrated the Super Bowl win and then most offices were closed – so we kept on celebrating.   And then we suffered and shoveled and we thought that would be our last storm of the season. Yeah right. This is Boston. It’s only just begun!

 

Mums 90th Birthday

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Heading to London to celebrate my mums 90th. Of all days British Airways elects to not run their day flight from Boston to London. So, my worst nightmare. An overnight flight with no sleep time and only confirmed in premium economy. Have a couple of plays lined up and with some luck London will feel like the Caribbean after the Siberian winter we are having here. 3 days of work, fun and theater. And staying at a great hotel at the 7 dials in covent garden. The most central point for all the great stuff you care to do in London.

Ode to Selfie Stick

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Ode to Selfie Stick

I gave away my selfie stick. It had traveled with me from Venice to Rome to Miami to Havana, where I left it in good hands. I didn’t take the decision lightly – it was my first selfie stick after all. The selfie stick is a crowd puller for sure and once you start, it’s irresistible. I bought it in some market in Venice.  The vendor saw me eyeing it. You see, the hook is the stick itself – I was already sold.  It looks like a sort of James Bond thing or an Inspector Gadget contraption. How much? How do you push the button?  Out from the vendor’s pocket emerges the requisite Bluetooth remote.  He sells me that too.

As an aside, the guys who sell the selfie-sticks are a real testament to entrepreneurial spirit.  As soon as there is a spot of rain, they’ve disappeared the selfie stick and are selling three different kinds of umbrellas for your protection and your pleasure. These guys are the future leaders of industry; I have no idea where they keep their inventory! The selfie stick becomes the umbrella, the umbrella becomes the glow-in-the-dark parachute, and at the end of the evening, everything turns into roses.

I used it in Rome all the time, but the only problem is that when in Rome, the selfie stick attracts a lot of attention. Unfortunately some nefarious types are more interested in what’s at the end of your stick, then in the stick itself. Alas, it was the sole survivor of my first (and hopefully last) Iphone theft of 2015. I got another phone and took the selfie-stick to Havana.

Going into it, I didn’t know that my selfie stick’s journey would end in Cuba. After so much adventure it seemed like the right place for it. They’d never seen the likes of it before and it became a fabulous ice-breaker. In the end, our bus driver was so impressed by the power of my selfie-stick, as it were, that the minute before leaving the airport in the midst of saludos, I made a fateful decision. I gave our tour guide a tip, a bottle of something, and then almost spurred on by something greater than myself:  Necesito ofrecerte un regalo. I handed him the selfie stick and followed it up with the Bluetooth.  Parting is such sweet sorrow.  But never again would he need to ask someone to take the picture.

 

Buried In Snow

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The week just got buried in snow. Honestly. Boston looks like a ski resort. My street has walkways that remind me of those pictures of First World War trenches. Cars are buried, even cop cars, and there is nowhere to put the snow. Didn’t the Russians develop a heating solution. It seems like it would be so easy. Snow does go away. And on top of all this, I am heading to Stamford CT for a meeting, plus DC for another meet.

Stamford is our corporate HQ and not the greatest town. It’s main attribute is that it is 40 minutes from NYC. It is slightly soulless and dead after dark. It’s also astonishingly, the most expensive place to live in the Usa. I don’t believe this little gem. It just can’t be. It’s dreadful ! Great week to be traversing the north eastern corridor! For now, I am looking out the window of my country house preparing to go out with snow shoes and shovel the roof, and enjoy this stuff as if I were a kid again