The Show

And wow what a show. I don't think I've ever seen anything like it - and I'm told I'm not even seeing it at 100%. If Macau is a crazy, flamboyant bubble of a place then this is certainly the show that fits. It opened with a small Chinese boy being blown off of his boat, taking him into a magical underwater world of giraffes, swans, chandeliers made of gymnasts, evil queens and jesters, human pyramids and - but of course - a team of stunt-pulling motorbike riders. 

The last time I saw Sophie on stage was about two and a half years ago, performing a one-man show on a small London stage. Now here she is performing to a giant arena twice a day, amongst an enourmous cast and crew who are all at the top of their game. I feel like a proud parent. And best of all I got to tour behind the scenes, hearing the military-precision commands being barked into the ears of all those involved as they flirted with danger and death at every turn. All involved should be really proud. 

Away from the lights I've basically been doing what I usually do, whether at home or abroad: eat and drink. I took another trip to the food fair with Jen, experiencing the constant rejection of Chinese families who would not allow us to sit with them. I finally are noodles too, and not a moment too soon. I'm waiting now to see the show a third time, from the musician's pit, before we fly out to Hanoi in the north of Vietnam. It feels good to be heading out and moving around again, and I'm obviously excited about the amazing food, cool places and shockingly cheap beer I'm set to consume. And that's before I go to Thailand...

Before The House of Dancing Water

I am in a cavernous theatre, an indoor lake ahead of me encircled by leaves that fall towards the water's edge, a flute having a grand old time in the pentatonic scale as accompaniment. The reason I am here is the reason I am here: without this show then Sophie would not be in Macau and without that I would probably not be visiting, or not so soon at least. The scale, budget, opulence and spectacle are as epic in proportion as any of the myriad of skyscrapers and towers that surround the theatre. I do not think there is a Cantonese word to express the crowd's anticipation, as one Chinese boy walked past my seat and said "holy shit" when he saw the stage. 

I will do a second blog after I have seen the show this Saturday night, but until then I will quickly recap what I have been up to in the meantime. I spent Friday in the old town of Taipa, the island where I  staying. The Portugese influence on the architecture is definitely apparent here. I managed to be totally English and get a perfect lobster-red sunburn on my arms. Always appreciated. 

In the evening I went to a food fair in Macau. Definitely started to see more of the interesting foods on the Chinese spectrum here. There were definitely highs: mango pancakes were a definite highlight, and chocolate bacon suddenly makes so much sense to me. But durian is beyond my culinary limits. It's a fruit that tastes like wet dog and sweat. I can still taste it in my darker moments. 

I think my overriding memory of the evening would be the sounds of Asian cabaret, dutifully aped by Johnny in the the taxi back to Taipa. If I had an image it would be Sophie spilling a drink in a bar, watching it be wiped across a table into a  glass, and then poured back into a shot glass for her to finish off second time around. Hygiene people! I'll blog about the show when I get chance. Catch y'all later!

Macau.

I'm writing this first blog on my first full day in Asia. I'm stood in Senado Square in the centre of Macau, and a man nearby is eating soup that looks like tar. He doesn't look happy. 

Weird and wonderful is definitely the way to describe things so far. After a fairly disgusting long-haul flight - the highlight an enthusiastic pat-down from a moustachioed Swiss security guard - I landed in Hong Kong to meet my old pal Sophie Robinson (henceforth known as Robbo). I haven't seen her for almost eighteen months, so that was pretty exciting of its own accord. I had a lovely meal in a Vietnamese restaurant with Robbo, her friend Johnny and his sister Jen. Hong Kong seems a really cool place, and it seems strange to see place names like Aberdeen, Wellington and Victoria. Colonialism eh?

Today I've visited the giant casino where Robbo is performing in a circus show of gargantuan proportions. I'll be going to watch that later in the week. We then took a taxi into the centre of Macau, where I've been wandering around taking pictures, grabbing free samples of what I hope is beef jerky and getting stared at. A lot. Lucky that I'm used to being famous. 

I've sadly got no bizarre food encounters of my own to report as of yet. I'm also having to get used to the currency, which is called mop and thus is hilarious. My next change off location is on Tuesday and Vietnam, which seems to have its currency in the millions. That will be fun. Besides that I don't have too much to report, probably because to me it's still breakfast time on Tuesday or something like that. I have, however, got to hear loads of people coughing up phlegm. Always good for the soul. 

Keep checking back on this wee journal: I'm here for another month and as well as Vietnam I'll be heading to Thailand and Hong Kong again as well. 

Wham, bam - thank you Van!

Well here it is...my last blog in foreign climes! I left Bellingham and the great new friends I made there, and hopped on the Greyhound across the border to Canada. At said border, a dodgy guy in a cap like mine tried to sneak across, so we had six or so border police run onto the bus and arrest him. That was fun. Then we breezed through to Vancouver, the mountains a great backdrop. In fact, it looks a lot like Seattle. I rambled around looking for a hostel for the last time (sob) and found it.

In said hostel I also found my first Geordie of the trip - lad called Paul - so the pub crawl was obligatory. Met some interesting folk as well: a few Irish girls, a Chicago musician called Gabriel and a few Glaswegians. It was a good night...but probably not the best preparation for the 'Grouse Grind' hike I undertook with Alec and Rachel's friend, Brittany early the next morning. It's stupidly steep, it was stupidly wet, and I was stupidly dressed in skinny jeans and Lacoste trainers. I was also stupidly rough. But we did it and it was a great feeling to reach the top in 1.32, a solid time. The fact an elderly man who had recently had a double knee replacement beat my time by two minutes takes nothing away from my achievement.

At the top we also found a grizzly bear enclosure with a couple of the big guys oblivious to the snow and seriously cold temperatures. I caught the seabus back to the hostel, slept, and then went to a great sushi place with Brittany called 'Tanpopo.' Then I dragged Paul out of bed for a few last night pints to see out my trip. My final day has been spent rushing around at supersonic speed to get myself sorted, though I did find twenty minutes to try the Canadian speciality poutine. For those who don't know, it's chips, gravy, cheese curds (plus smoked meat in my case), and it was as healthy as it sounds.

So here I am, just about to leave on the Canada line to the airport and the end of my trip. It has been incredible and I hope you've enjoyed reading about it, looking at my pictures, and speculating how damaged my stomach/liver are after more than two months away. I also hope that my flight to Manchester via Frankfurt isn't the disaster I envisage it being. So you should hear from me soon, possibly from Germany when I miss my flight, preferably from sunny Chesterfield when I'll need moral support to get through my return. Here's a picture at the top of the Grind - so long!

Seattle/"The 'Ham"

The last leg is upon us - I am waking up in Bellingham, north of Seattle and a two hour Greyhound away from my final stop, Vancouver, BC. It has been a typically busy few days since I last checked in, so busy I've not even taken many pictures. I should have something pretty to use for this blog though, and something that beats pictures of beer bottles or rucksacks.

On Friday in Seattle, I breakfasted with Ryan at Cafe Besalu, a pastry shop where my contact Alec is a chef. It's an incredible little place - very popular locally - and the apricot tart and croissant I had were both out of this world. We agreed to meet later so me and Ryan explored a little, attempting to visit the aquarium but it was shut, eating an incredible slice of pizza, and trying out my new dream guitar in a cool little music shop in Pioneer Square.

Alec picked me up from Ryan's that evening and we were soon on an ale trail. Just like my Eugene experience, I was meeting some ale experts (his girlfriend Rachel is also a huge beer fan), so I got to try some great stuff. We also popped in to Seattle burger institution, 'Dick's,' and ate something beautiful and calorific. Then we headed to meet some of their friends close by and drank some more before a well-earned sleep.

Saturday began in earnest with a beer or two with Rachel, before Alec joined us after work and we had some more. I even tried the legendary 'Pliny the Elder,' a beer first mentioned to me in Eugene and just about living up to the expectations. We had some amazing souvlaki and garlic fries at a Greek place and then stocked up on beerat a very cool beer shop-cum-bar and headed back to Rachel's place via Alec's. The latter took me down to the water to check out the odd fish making the pilgrimage down stream (see picture), before settling down to beers, pizza, 'Archer' and bed.

Sunday morning involved a good breakfast, meeting Rachel's worse-for-wear but funny flatmate and hitting the road for Bellingham. I got some news that Ash was ill which was hard: she's planning to visit and photograph England so I hope this doesn't affect that. We travelled on though and halfway to the 'Ham - as Alec affectionately called it - we were met by Barbara and Bruce, Alec's parents, who took me the scenic way home and pointed out local points of interest. We got back to theirs and I met Phil, a sharp guy like his son indeed, and we went for a brisk stroll around the local woods before tucking into a great bbq.

Soon after we were on our way to local beer institution 'Boundary Bay,' where we met Ramon and Vicky, Rachel's parents. Their daughter Alex also joined us later and we all shared stories and some laughs. They are all such great people, a wonderful family and it has been a fitting end to a trip of meeting and staying with lovely, welcoming folks. From Ben in New York, to Tim in Seattle, to Ibrahim in Portland, to Terry and Jan in Eugene and these guys - it has warmed my old English cockles. I was treated to beer, a pub t-shirt, lavender and raspberry cheesecake ice-cream and more. I then had Alex show me another great pub and shared some of my funnier travel experiences before heading to sleep.

So today I'm off on the bus to Vancouver! It's such a shame that I have to leave these guys so early, just as it was a shame to say goodbye to Alec and Rachel so soon. However, I just accumulated some more good reasons to come and visit the Northwest again. Two brief nights in this hyped-up Canadian city will follow, and then it's all aboard and England bound. I'll speak soon!

Deja Vu, via Phoenix

A second goodbye to Chicago, and just as hard as the first. After a night dancing to the Human League with Dan and Mark (you can take the boy out of northern England...), I packed up for the final leg of my American adventure. I've finally had a haircut, so now I finally don't have to explain that mullets aren't big in England - it's just me. I splurged some of my last Yankee dollars on clothes and I ate ribs in the rain to say goodbye to my favourite city.

There was stress as well: the rain was so heavy that just about all my belongings got soaked. I then dropped my boarding pass in O'Hare airport, and inexplicably found it on the floor by retracing my steps. Then there was the flights themselves, the first being shared with a stocktrader who loved money and Texas apparently (yee ha), plus a rather large, Indian nerd who worked for IBM. At Phoenix I nearly snagged an amazing offer: to get on a flight the next day, including free hotel and transport, plus a voucher for more free flights. Annoyingly, some fat couple got it instead, probably because they would have made the plane list.

I will say that Phoenix as a view to look out on was pretty incredible. I've never seen real desert, and the mountains are spectacular. I heard some northern accents talking about not getting the free stuff and it turned out to be a lovely couple from Manchester called Paul and Francesca. I ended up walking them to their hostel - the one I stayed at - before I got a taxi from a really friendly Punjabi man to Ryan's. After catching up with him over homemade beef jerky, and feeling terrible guilt over inadvertently stealing toothpaste from Dan, I hit the sack. I'll tell you what happens in Seattle (stays in Seattle).

Chicago Part II

Well I'm back again! I'm tired of saying sorry for my lack of blogging - in fact, I'm just plain tired. However, it's really good being back in this big city and all it has to offer. I got in at around seven on the Saturday night, and met Dan who I was going to be staying with: a really nice, funny guy who has been a great host. That evening I got food and coffee downtown, hung out with folk and had a generally great evening.

Sunday was mainly spent with beers on the beach. That's right, I'm about as far away from the ocean as you can get (see a map for details), but luckily I'm still in the land of the lakes so when the sun hits the city, the city hits the beach. Yeah, I did just say that. So me and Dan hit the beach and met some of his friends - who were all just as great - and wasted away the hours on the sand with I.P.A's and good company. There was even a black lady, best described as "bubbly," who told me, Dan and the beach as a whole that she wanted to take off all her clothes and "get neked." How disappointed we were when she didn't follow up this thought, remaining satisfied with a costume that her body appeared to be eating.

I've spent the past two days being a big tourist, something that I haven't really been since Washington D.C and my day touring the sights with Brian (how long ago does that seem, super fans?). I've been to visit the Shedd aquarium, home to Beluga whales and an otter that I want to adopt. That was on memorial day (something for soldiers apparently), hence a lot of interesting tourist smells mingling with those sea scents (as good as it sounds). (Brackets overload). Today, which is still just about Tuesday, I went to the Field Museum, which sounds a lot more terrible than it actually is. It has the best preserved, most complete T-Rex fossil in the world. The dinosaur in question is called Sue, and I believe it is featured in the film 'Night at the Museum,' which might interest Cally a little.

That would be the obvious image for my blog...which is why I've decided to put up a bottle of beer instead (read on for the reasoning). However, if you go on my Instagram then you will be able to see a wonderfully edited version of Sue that I spent many a second over, along with a lot of other pictures for you to pore over. My name is AdamMcCulloch23 if anyone is interested, which you obviously are. It's worth mentioning in my blog purely so that my sister has to explain to relatives what Instagram is.

I'm currently writing this sat inside the 'Owen and Engine,' just off of Western and Diversey. It's an English establishment with some absolutely fantastic food - it really does the best tomato sauce I've ever tasted - and the beer is out of this world. It even stocks local favourite Jaipur, courtesy of Thornbridge brewery, which is the image that I felt meant more to me than a skeleton mere millions of years old. Who knows, maybe almost two months away from home has softened up my feelings towards home. Maybe I pine for a night at 'Nickels' and chips, cheese and tikka from 'Afnans.' Maybe I'm just an alcoholic. Keep reading for my last night in Chicago and the start of my deja vu return to Seattle.