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Travel

From the sublime to the chilling

The sublime is the Mission San Xavier at Bac, which is about twenty minutes south of Tucson. It encapsulates the history of the region and is part of the chain of Missions set up by the Spanish going all the way up through California which you may already have seen.

The Jesuits started the ball rolling in 1692, developed it for 75 years, and were then expelled en masse from Spain’s oversea territories. What you see now was all built in the late C18th by the Franciscans who replaced them. One can only imagine the impact of the building (and it’s simpler predecessor) on the local Indian population – it is visible for miles on the plain. They were ignorant of adobe building before the missionaries arrived, not that they had any choice in any matter, becoming first Spanish, then Mexican, and finally Americans, though perhaps these details passed them by.

Equally, it must have been pretty grim for the missionaries, including multiple attacks by the Apaches throughout the C19th and there were periods when it was unoccupied. Over the years the church fell into increasing disrepair. Happily there has been a very significant period of recent refurbishment and conservation of both the building and its interior.

Perhaps inevitably that included removing botched renovation attempts at both levels. For example in relation to the domed roof it’s been discovered that the best replacement for destructive concrete work is to go back to square one and use materials from the time of original build, which includes cactus juice in the mortar mix!

The end result is a stunning and almost jolly example of a baroque church – it’s the oldest in the US. I particularly liked the female angel on the roof who actually shows her legs!

It’s also a very serene place and it was pleasant to take stock in the courtyard which was blissfully cool.

However, not chilling, which is a fair description of the Titan Missile Museum, which is fifteen minutes further south.

It’s the last surviving example of the 54 sites that once housed what was America’s biggest nuke at 9 megatons. As the blurb cheerfully observed each weapon had the same explosive power as 90,000 box cars of TNT, which would be a train 1534 miles long, and which is a greater quantity than all the bombs dropped in WW2.

It was very interesting. The moral issues were not a source of particular concern though to be fair it was only ever to be a responsive weapon. Once the order to launch was received, two keys, removed from the red drawer of the locked filing cabinet, had to be turned simultaneously but were sufficiently far apart that two people had to be involved.

That was a common theme of the entire complex.

Security when in use was extreme as you might imagine, and a crew change after a 24 hour shift involved the oncoming personnel passing through four sets of gates or colossal blast doors, including the commander using a code which had to be burnt or eaten after input.

Curiously there was no great presence above ground. Security patrols were available in their jeeps but primarily it was fences and gates, along with radar beams which if broken would result in alarms going off in the control room.

Internally it was all very efficient with a long corridor – more blast doors – between the silo itself and the control room and living quarters. Everything was on great springs – including light bulbs – to protect again blast/earthquake.

And there was only a crew of four, two officers who’d fire the missile and two non coms who’d were maintenance specialists, including the highly dangerous fueling, hence the protective space suits. The fuel once in had to be kept at a constant temperature as it would otherwise combust. Nice.

While I have no difficulty with the logic of Mutually Assured Destruction – it worked after all – I did find the prospect open to a crew who had fired their missile particularly grim. They would know that the US had been attacked before they fired but in all likelihood would have had no further contact. The air would last for fifteen days but what then? Suffocate or climb into a post nuclear world?

To finish happily, the missiles were also used in the space programme and, most importantly of all, this very site featured in Star Trek: First Contact, with the missile itself playing Zephram Cochrane’s first warp flight vehicle!

Oh, and for balance, you can also visit a similar Soviet SS19 launch site in Eastern Poland, though I suspect the gift shop won’t have as many T-shirts or baseball caps.

 

And finally – some pictures of Hawaii!

Should you ever get to Hawaii I would certainly recommend taking a tour with Oahu Photography Tours which is run by a lovely bloke called Alex. (He’s the cool dude sitting on the fence btw).

He get’s 5 stars on TripAdvisor and it’s easy to see why. He’s incredibly enthusiastic, very knowledgable about cameras and all thing Hawaii, and aware of good spots to take people. I’d booked for an all day trip but he couldn’t fulfil it as I was the only one. However, he rearranged another group to suit me (they were delightful and brought a very large cool box which they were generous with) and we managed to tootle about the south and east coasts. The weather wasn’t good – a southerly wind meant it was very cloudy in places but it was a great way to see the differing landscapes of Oahu . Looking at Alex’s useful 3D map, we were in the bottom right hand quarter.

We started on Tantalus, a hill looking over Honolulu.

Then north and east up and through the right hand mountainous spine  (on the H3, the most expensive piece of motorway anywhere apparently) before visiting a working replica of a temple in Japan

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before heading past the hills,

to a variety of beaches, first for colours:

and second for surfing (and fishing),

before focussing on the rockier sides of the coast,

and finishing by watching the sun set looking towards Diamond Head while a frigate bird swooped above us..

Massive fun and extremely useful on the camera front too – here’s a shot of me keeping well away from cliff edge’s where I took the fingers of rock and the road pic.

Just beyond the furthest away finger is the the cove where Burt Lancaster lay in the surf in From Here to Eternity. Tick!

And finally, since Alison wants shots of everyday life here’s a bus stop (they’re all like this). On the buses themselves there are cords to pull and drivers who prevent people getting on until others have got off. Shades of Bermuda!

 

Aloha and time for a poke!

Easy if long flight from LAX with a very comfy seat, a couple of good films – including Blazing Saddles without PC interference – and good service from a stewardess who rang bells somehow.

Glorious approach past Pearl Harbour including views of reserve ships and masses of hardware at what was Hickham Field – presumably it’ll all only get busier still under Trump as he squares up to China, and there is certainly a lot of flying going on.

Delighted to report that there were no garlands and flowers on my arrival at HNL. Instead just efficiency and open planning – the first airport I’ve been to with gardens to sit in and a cheery control tower.

Whisked into the hotel in a large van talking politics with the driver who wanted Sanders for president but clearly didn’t disapprove entirely of Mr Trump, though he found it difficult to expand on why. He didn’t like many of the things being tweeted but….  Worrying stuff.

That said, he went onto explain that he was originally from Boston and was feeling it was time to take things more seriously. The difficulty of living in Oahu, apparently, is that it is a life of sunshine, parties, and much sex. He found it hard looking at FB for all his contemporaries were married with kids. It was time to settle down. Oh dear. I managed not to weep.

Holiday Inn Waikiki is fine – booked in by a delightful lady who squealed when I explained that I was treating myself for my 50th, high fived me, fashioned a birthday card there and then signed by her and her colleagues, and presented me with a gift (shan’t say what obviously because I’ll give it to someone else in due course), and all because it was her fiftieth year too and she was going to England to celebrate.

Duly upgraded to a room with a slightly better view – as she said acidly you’d have to lean out over the balcony for the partial sea view in the original room,  and since I’m on the 14th floor I would not have liked that at all.

And then just enough time for a stroll to the beach in the sunshine and, naturally, a small military museum (“What time do you have?” said the elderly veteran at the desk. “Three pm, were you hoping it was four and almost time to close?” I replied. He smiled, and confirmed that was so, but perked up and talked enthusiastically about the place.

In fact, it was rather good ( US Army museum in a former coastal defence battery – echoes of Orkney, of course) and had fascinating displays about the indigenous population’s enthusiastic response to getting guns from westerners (I’m top dog now is the short version), the joys of being posted to Oahu from NYC at the turn of the C19/20th century (let’s live in tents for six months but keep smiling), and most interestingly the war service of second generation Japanese Hawaiians (lots of genuinely vital work translating in the Pacific theatre as well as landing at Salerno and fighting up through Italy and into France).

The striking thing about Hawaii is how un American it is in many ways. In 1941, 37% (the largest group) of the population was of Japanese extraction, and that doesn’t seem to have changed. Most of the tourists are from Japan, or China, or Korea, and the majority of people doing the tourist jobs are either indigenous or asian.

Mixed race is also very prevalent and caused me momentary, if silent, consternation at check in. The jolly white 50 year old, when talking to a father (white) and son (Japanese), said in an entirely relaxed manner “Oh you’re related, I’d never have guessed”. I waited for outrage but it never came. Instead she went on, “Yeh, it’s the same with me, I’m half Japanese but you’d never know, would you”.  Oh to be so relaxed, though as I was to discover at Pearl it’s not always like that.

And finally the poke. It was just what I needed and found just round the corner in a convenience store! The choice was good and I plumped for one with avocado thrown in which certainly made things go more smoothly.  It was also admirably healthy as well as pleasurable. More of this I thought!

 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poke_(fish_salad)

Points Mean Prizes!

I don’t wish to proselytise but on a trip like this it is worth playing the points game. On the flight front I should end up with a BA gold card which in my case means access to free fizz and less queueing when on low cost flights to London.

I really can’t recommend headforpoints.com highly enough. I have no real idea what’s going on – the guy who runs it does!

This showed last night as I stumbled into LAX after twenty four hours travel. I followed his advice and now have an IHG credit card. I signed up to at the right time and got top tier. Which I’ve since kept by everyday card spend. That all meant my hotel room was paid for with points, I was upgraded to the top floor with lounge access – free breakfast – and most importantly of all got a $10 beer for free on arrival which I was sorely needing!!

Blissful eh? Almost! All the swanky hotels are by the airport which never sleeps so a silent night it is not. However, continuing with the unguents voyage of exploration I also plastered “relaxing” cream over my face. It assured me of restfulness but lied. More entertainingly I found a little bag of earplugs, which contained a single example. Are they worried if you have two you might sleep through your flight and sue them?

Anyway, now at LAX and almost ready for last phase outbound. Hurrah! Even I am beginning to flag. Though surrounded by thousands of people the world is still small – blethering with a couple who raved about their stay in Scotland at a funny sounding place. Muckrach lodge!

 

 

1st February 2017 – a day of gluttony.

It has also been gloriously long- fortunately travel stamina, as opposed to anything else, has always been good! Up at 4 am UK time to fly (breakfast one and lovely early morning views of dutch towns gleaming under low cloud)

to Heathrow for the second breakfast of the day

in the Concorde Room, followed by the first fizz of the day at 9.30 which was ninety minutes later than it could have been!

For all the hype CR is overrated tbh. Yes, an oasis of calm with art work on the way to the toilets, Concorde seats in the working area, and good views of planes, but ultimately more style than substance. There weren’t even any celebs to spot – though that’s not to say they weren’t there of course!

Onto a “Dream Flight Back massage” in the Elemis Spa, which was really quite good save for the cold ridden girl sniffing continuously. Hot stones and inhaling some rose gunk was better than I would’ve imagined.

The real fun began on the aircraft to Toronto as it was very good indeed. Turning left on entry is a pleasure, and the champagne flowed immediately and often. My two windows were above the R and the I!

Really good crew – including a couple of chatty Scots  –  and service. Genuinely tasty meal and the first two white wines on the list were excellent!

Couple of hours recharge with the seat in bed mode and then afternoon tea pre landing in Toronto where it’s been snowing and is just above freezing.

So now 11.30 UK time and about to head for LAX. Border control for US done here and without any issue happily – no sense of any of the tensions in the news. My border security guard was more concerned that he hadn’t had his lunch break, not due to numbers it appeared but a bad supervisor! More food drink required for me now I’m afraid, this time courtesy of American Airlines.

 

And so it begins … Easyjet to Amsterdam

Free from a dank Edinburgh it’s gentle lounge time. Semi healthy option but fear not, the giant fishfinger will soon be on its   way. Nice!

In fact, trade description outrage – it was three small fishfingers. Which is better? Discuss.

Much more importantly, travel to Schipol could not have been easier. The bulk of the flying on this trip will be BA/AA. The world’s favourite airline could learn lots from EasyJet at Edinburgh st least. From turning up at the gate to the aircraft doors’ being shut took 20 minutes and that included a bus ride! And why? Because their staff were proactive and efficient, insisted that every wheeled case went in the hold, so there wasn’t the tense scrum and log jam on the aircraft as cretins with enormous bags try to put them into letter box size spaces. And lo, we left and arrived early and were serene!! How different from the omnishambles that is the norm on Heathrow flights at least.

And Schipol is a dream too. Automated passport reading (meantime) for U.K. travellers though having been allowed in a guard rushed up and removed my passport saying cheerily you’re in the system but we just want to check it’s you- eh??? However, drinking a restorative beer in the hotel twenty minutes later.

Got to love Dutch uber efficiency while we still can ……

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