What A City

The City

The financial district, taken from the 27th floor of The Shard.

The most prominent tower in the photo - 20 Fenchurch St also affectionately known as "the walkie-talkie" due to its unusual shape - curves outward at the top creating greater upper level floor space. Architecturally it is unusual. Cynically, it means higher overall rent.

Everywhere one looks, the city transformed. Last month, the biggest single development approved at Greenwich Peninsula creating 13,000 new homes, 2 schools and a 40,000sq foot film studio. Before that, The Shell Centre project will singular change the river's southside at Waterloo. A favourite building torn down for modern condos. My train ride into town leaves a city almost unrecognisable from ten years ago. One giant sprawling mess representing millions of battles, compromises, sacrifices, corruptions, gains and losses. But oh so valuable.

Autumn Season

Eitan runs the first cross country race of the year, a relay in Guilford where each of three runners completes 2.5k.  Eitan reckons there were twenty teams and Hercules Wimbledon take fourth place. The boy takes the first leg, delivering sixth place, while Zac and Sam bring up the rankings on the back half.  The course is a "mildly hilly park trail" leaving the competitors to fend for themselves on the wet narrow path.  Eitan's strategy is to "go off with the leading pack and stick with it."  He notes further:  "Painful. I was running with a Kingston runner all the way but he overtook me in the end."

The Orensteins to Paris last night only dad forgets the keys to the flat in the Marais and we miss the last Eurostar by a few minutes. Since Zuma and Nobu fully booked, Eitan and I stay up late watching 'Halloween' while Sonnet makes late night steak followed by ice cream and cookies.

The pumpkins have been carved.

Zac, Eitan and Sam

Self Portrait XXXXVII

Me: "Do you want to do some meditation with me?" [Dad's note: I am experimenting with meditation and mindfulness]
Madeleine: "No."
Me: "Tell you what. You have a choice. You can walk the dog. Do maths homework or meditate with me. What's it going to be"
Madeleine: "Do I have to answer?"
Me: "Yes."
Madeleine: "Meditate."
Me: "So we will do some breathing exercises, concentrating on the air passing by our nose or throat and just relaxing."
Madeleine: "Isn't this like taking a nap?"
Me: "Roll with it. You are meant to fall awake, not asleep."
Madeleine: "What's the point?"
Me: "It will make you feel better, in better control of your thoughts. Grow white brain matter. Be smarter."
Madeleine: "Do I have to?"

IKEA Date

Madeleine asks me - seriously - to take her and her friends to IKEA on a Saturday evening and so I do. It's Madeleine, Maddy, Theia and Izzy. An excellent crew. I listen to them giggle and hyperventilate on the ride to Wembley at 6PM.  I try to become invisible, just a fly on the wall, as the girls discuss clothes and school and boys.

Honestly, IKEA is exhausting but what a place to people watch: an Indian grandma tests a sofa mattress by laying on it spread eagle. A Russian couple with baby check out tables and kids race about in the trolleys risking death and the wrath of, well, me. I count it as a cultural experience.

I ask the cashier the busiest time? And she tells me the weekend, which is fair enough, but Saturday evening ? It's when people can do it.

And this: The company is responsible for approximately 1% of world commercial-product wood consumption.

Madeleine: "I'm kind of over IKEA."

ManU Is Sharp

Eitan wears his favorite top, a retro 1980s ManU jersey, a gift from Christian.

Sharp Electronics the first Man U shirt sponsor with an an initial five-year deal worth £500,000, beginning in the 1982–83 season. The relationship lasted 18 years until Vodafone agreed a four-year, £30 million shirt deal in 2000. 

More recently, in 2012, United signed a seven-year deal with General Motors which replaced Aon as the shirt sponsor from the 2014–15 season. The $80m/ year shirt deal is worth $559m over seven years and features the Chevrolet logo, which is kind of bunk for a Premiere League team.

Friday night and Sonnet returns late from Venice and Florence where she has spent the week visiting historical archives to research aspects of Italian fashion. Eitan ducks into the living room to inform me he is off to football practice while Madeleine at a sleep-over. Veronica exits for friends and drinks. This leaves me and Rusty, so I kick up my feet and watch the Coen Brothers' "Blood Simple" and could not be happier.

A Young Man

The boy now eats a sandwich (as I write), followed by a bowl of cereal. It's 6PM so dinner in one hour. We have stopped fighting it : As Sonnet says, "bottomless pit." I am reminded of his enormous loving Jamaican day-care taker, Eitan age 1, who frequently commented on Eitan's appetite ("That boy loves his food").

Anthony stops by to watch the Australian-Wales rugby match and catch us up on things: he is moving from Islington to Clapton in Hackney, East London, which is now the next uber cool location as the East End  pushes towards the Olympics Park. Once known for it's 'Murder Mile' - stretch of tarmac that was once known as Britain's deadliest by murder as recently as 2002. Now the gays have moved in, followed by the hipsters, artists and techies serviced by trendy bars, bakeries and cafes. It is still urban gritty, I understand, but filled with young people trying to comfort themselves of their anxieties or revel in their youth.

Anthony's business, Barmetrix, provides operational and cost management software for bars. He has 40 clients, all of whom need to be serviced. Over a pint, of course. 

Me: "Eitan how does it feel to be 15?"

Eitan: "Good."

Me: "Anything else?"

Eitan: "It feels a lot older."

Me:

Eitan: "Than 14."

An Email From David C

How convenient
All bullets
Cameron knows
Our attention span is very
weak

I believe we’re on the brink of something special in our country.
This year, we’ve seen more people in work than at any time in our history; more of our children starting university than ever before; more British entrepreneurs setting up shop than anywhere else in Europe.
Wages are rising. Hope is returning. We’re moving into the light.
But we’re not there yet. We’re only halfway through.
We can make this era – these 2010s – a defining decade for our country: the turnaround decade.
And our goal is a Greater Britain.
With strong defence and a strong economy.
An NHS that there’s for everybody, and schools that stretch our children.
And over the next five years we will show that the deep problems in our society are not inevitable.
That a childhood in care doesn’t have to mean a life of struggle.
That a stint in prison doesn’t mean you’ll get out and do the same thing all over again.
That being black, or Asian, or female, or gay doesn’t mean you’ll be treated differently.
A Greater Britain – made of greater expectations.
Where renters become homeowners, employees become employers, a small island becomes an even bigger economy, and where extremism is defeated once and for all.
A country raising its sights, its people reaching new heights.
A Greater Britain – made of greater hope, greater chances, greater security.

Record Board

Berkeley High School pool

30 years and still there for the 200 and 500y freestyle, earned with hard work during a different era : distance swimming was all about .. distance. My technique as an age-grouper never so good - I relied on a two best cross over which supported a fairly rapid stroke turn-over (to keep the body aligned and hips neutral, my legs crossed in sync with my arms and following two natural kicks or "beats").  Ten miles a day, back-and-forth, in a 25 yard pool.

Today, thanks to guys like Matt Biondi and, famously, Ian Thorpe who single-handedly defeated the Americans in the 4x200 m freestyle relay in the 2004 Australian Olympics, the technique is more about front glide and catch-up. I use this today (having watched Thorpe and others on youtube) and cut my stroke from 20-21 rotations a lap to 12. Just like that.

Regardless of those times back then, swimming introduced me to a committed group of fabulous people. It also introduced structure into my life (6AM swim ! 3PM swim!) which helped my schoolwork and studies. There was no time for goofing off. It gave me my confidence.

Now I find lap swimming a challenge given the boredom. I can barely do 1500m.  What we did then ? No way now.

Fashion Fashion

Magdalen Frackoic

Sonnet joins me in Paris (I have a temporary residence in the 4e) during Fashion Week to see Dior, Issey Miyake and Lowe and Rick Owens. Glamour is everywhere with exhibition tents set up in the Louvre courtyard, Tuileries and Place de la Concorde. Paris buzz's with models, gay dudes and the fashionistas who I think are all hanging out in the Marais after a day on Rue Faubourg St Honoree.

Hussein Chalayan's exhibition included two outfits (Sonnet describes) worn by women who stood motionless throughout the catwalk show. Towards the end, a shower of water cascaded down from the ceiling drenching them and dissolving their clothes (they wore outfits underneath). Before Sonnet describes the spectacle I see it on Vine.

Eitan's Lions lose to Barnes in Surrey Cup action in a tense match that sees our side go down on the dreaded PKs. Eitan had a shot to end the match with minutes to go on a free-kick from 35m out but his perfectly placed ball sails several inches high. Them are the breaks.

Buzz Words

I pick up Eitan and Luke at Hampton following their football match against Ardingly (Hampton wins 3-2). Traffic delays the return by 1.5 hours and, to pass the time, I stretch followed by some mindfulness training on a bench, then by a sun nap. Me to Eitan: "Basically all the things that embarrass you." Eitan: "Yeah."

I give Madeleine an afternoon lift to the train station.
Me: "What are you going to do in Clapham?"
Madeleine: "I dunno."
Me: "Are you going shopping? Hanging out? Coffee?"
Madeleine: "Hanging out. I don't drink coffee."
Me: "With whom?"
Madeleine: "Some friends."
Me: "Boys? Girls? Both?"
Madeleine: "Both."
Me: "Does it make it more interesting with boys?"
Madeleine: "Yeah, I guess."
Me: "Do you guys sit about and giggle?"
Madeleine: "OK, Dad, train's here."

I overhear Madeleine describe 'The Road' to Gracie: "It's a dystopian novel."
Me to Sonnet: "That's a hundred grand on education well spent."

Belated 15

Eitan turns 15 on the last day of September.

Engaged in school, sport, family and friends, Eitan wears his heart on sleeve yet keeps his cool, too, when things don't go to plan. In this regard, we have always had faith in Eitan's ability to deliver the goods. Sometimes this nets unreasonaby high expectations but he handles the external (parental) pressure with aplomb and seems genuinely pleased with the life balance he enjoys.

Eitan is also a good brother. Sure, just like any older brother, he is sometimes unaware of his biggest fan but Eitan is mostly aware of Madeleine. They have shared swimming and athletics; sometimes dog walks (at least who does it) and household chores (mostly without complaint). This summer Eitan and Madeleine endured Outward Bound in the Scottish Highlands. Last year it was 2,000 miles in a car, side-by-side, along a two lane blacktop. I expect their friendship to be a gift well beyond their years at 45.

Eitan's accomplishments in 2015 have been numerous : chosen team captain for the Sheen Lions, Hampton School in the Final Four of the English School Football Association, reaching 5'10, strong marks in his coursework (lots of praise from teachers), and a  4:34 in the 1500m..

Mostly Eitan is happiest tucking into an afternoon bacon sandwich, plopping down on the sofa for a ManU game, contemplating his next lie in.

How proud we are of this thoughtful and intelligent young man who blooms before us.

Moira Gemmel, 1959-2015

Sonnet attends the memorial of Moira Gemmel, a 13 year colleague at the V&A and the Director of Design. Moira died in a collision with a tipper lorry on her way to work in April. 55 years old.

Here is the Guardian's obituary:
Moira Gemmill, who has died aged 55 in a cycling accident, joined the Victoria and Albert Museum, London, as head of design in 2002. By the time she left at the end of 2014 to take up a post with the Royal Collection Trust, she had played a key role in transforming the institution that bills itself as the world’s greatest museum of art and design.

When she started, the V&A was, in every sense, notoriously difficult to navigate. Different systems of signage abounded and a variety of vested interests prevented any change. But Moira would brook no opposition and in what seemed like no time a new, coherent and elegant scheme by the graphic consultants Holmes Wood was soon rolled out. She was someone who knew what she thought and said what she meant: a breath of fresh air began to move through the museum.

She went on to develop what was called FuturePlan, and we worked together on this for 10 years. The principles were simple: work with and value the architecture and decoration of the V&A’s complex of historic buildings, open up views so that people would know where they were and be tempted on to see what was coming next, bring natural light into the galleries, provide views both to the outside world and to the garden within, which became the museum’s public hub, and find ways to make sense of the sequence and adjacencies of different displays.

It sounds simple, but it was a long, difficult and demanding process, which she led from 2005 onwards as director of projects and design. It also required charm, steely determination, a clear and coherent understanding of the overall picture and the confidence to tell me, as director, and the trustees when they were wrong. She also had to argue away the light-phobic shibboleths so sadly common among conservators and curators.

The more than 40 projects that she realised with architects and designers included two by Softroom, the Jameel gallery of Islamic art and the Sackler education centre, with its cunning reuse of the difficult spaces in the wing named after the museum’s first director, Henry Cole. She also oversaw the reinstatement and reopening of the original tearooms; Ewa Jiricna’s shop, sculpture gallery and exquisite jewellery gallery; great medieval and renaissance galleries by the architects MUMA; the ceramic galleries by Stanton Williams and the ceramic study galleries by Opera Amsterdam, and the elegant fashion gallery by 6a. Away from the South Kensington site were the Museum of Childhood by Caruso St John in Bethnal Green, east London, and the Clothworkers’ Centre by Haworth Tomkins at Blythe House, Kensington Olympia.

This represented a rate of progress easily excelling anything seen at the V&A since the 19th century. And at the same time Moira steered through the competition to design new exhibition galleries on Exhibition Road, won by Amanda Levete, with whom she worked very closely. A great promoter of new talent and an ardent feminist, Moira was the most demanding and discerning commissioner of projects, sometimes quite scary, never letting her high standards drop, but also a funny, kind and supportive colleague and boss.

She loved design for its own sake, but also believed that it served a public purpose: that good design could make life better and more pleasurable for everybody. She hoped that, little by little, the work that she led would transform the experience of those who came to the V&A so that it would feel cared for and tended, light and airy, tranquil and engaging. So the ladies’ loos needed to be lovely. Designed by Glowacka Rennie, they needed an art installation to make them really special, and I was sent to persuade the Paris-based Swiss artist Felice Varini that this was the right location for work by him. Installations, like the Random International studio's Swarm III, were commissioned for otherwise neglected spaces and what might have been an ordinary fire-escape became, thanks to Jim Eyre’s design, the beautiful ceramic galleries bridge. Moira hoped, as Cole had, that those who knew the V&A would become impatient with unnecessary and spirit-sapping ugliness and demand better in every aspect of their lives.

Always immaculately presented, Moira loved London and was the most urban of people. Yet she was born in Campbeltown, Argyll, the principal town of the Kintyre peninsula, and grew up on a remote farm in Kintyre, daughter of Helen and John Gemmill. She always retained a love of the region’s wild landscape, her family and family home, and for all things Scottish, tartan very much included. From Campbeltown grammar school, under the eye of her mother, who taught there, Moira went on to study graphic design and photography at Glasgow School of Art. This was a turning point. Though enjoying extracurricular activities far too much to be a model student, she loved the art school, found herself, and met the circle of friends who remained with her throughout her life.

After graduating in 1981 she moved to Aberdeen, where she helped set up Citygirl, a listings magazine that was lively and fun but eventually went bust. So Moira got a job at Aberdeen Art Gallery and found herself planning and staging exhibitions, under the directorship of the artist Ian McKenzie Smith.

In 1997 she became head of design and exhibitions at the Museum of London, under Simon Thurley. There, working alongside Magdalen Fisher, who became her closest friend, she was responsible for exhibitions including London Bodies, Terence Donovan's London and Vivienne Westwood. She also oversaw long-term displays such as the World City Gallery and a network of “outsites” that showed archaeological finds where they had been discovered.

A Scottish dimension to Moira’s legacy will come in 2017 with the opening of V&A Dundee, a scheme to take the V&A’s name and exhibitions north and create a design centre for Scotland. She also took charge of the V&A’s pioneering relationships with two Indian institutions: the Dr Bhau Daji Lad Museum, Mumbaii, and the National Institute of Design, Ahmedabad, Gujarat. The exhibition programme, which on Moira’s initiative employed so many emerging designers, gave rise to more V&A exhibitions travelling to more places around the world than from any other museum. An honorary fellow of the RIBA, a judge of the Architect’s Journal Women in Architecture awards and chair of the V&A Illustration Awards, Moira excelled at finding ways to ensure that the winners she wanted got the recognition she knew they deserved.

As director of capital programmes at the Royal Collections Trust, Moira had been looking forward to the opportunity to work on Windsor Castle, Buckingham Palace and Holyrood Palace in Edinburgh. Brave, brilliant and beautiful, she was the brightest and best of a generation that transformed the V&A.

She is survived by her parents, her brother, Andrew, and sister, Jennifer.

Moira Gemmill, design director, born 18 September 1959; died 9 April 2015

Back To The Pitch

Eitan crosses

Eitan has a weekend of football: Yesterday it's Hampton v. Eton (nil-nil) and today it's the Lions v. Ashford Town - another pitch close to Heathrow airport (The clubhouse bar open at 12 noon, when we arrive, and it's a line for the beer and hard liquor). 

On the pitch, the Lions up 2-0 before succumbing to an equally matched team who score 4 unanswered points before Sheen claws back one to make it a respectable 4-3.  Eitan says: "It was disappointing." Me: Is that it? Eitan: Yes.

So, meanwhile, the Rugby World Cup going on in the background. Since many of the games held at Twickenham Stadium in Richmond, it is impossible to miss the action (and traffic). Last night Eitan and Shaheen go to Richmond Fields to watch the England vs. Wales on a number of super sized outdoor screens set up for the occasion. The entire country watch England lose in the last 10 minutes. These dudes are big. Hard to say the more brutal: Rugby or American football. The latter have helmets which serve as a battering ram and the offensive/defensive line take 60 collisions a game equal to a 25 mph car crash. More concussions, too.

My tomato vines deliver a wonderful autumnal fruit. These babies have been with me since April and I'm always sad to see them go. Daylight savings can't be far away.

Christian And Lisa Get Married

Deb and Lisa

Christian's wedding a wonderful affair full of joy and celebration.

The weekend starts Thursday afternoon in Palm Springs for poolside drinks under the shade of the massive San Jacinto Mountains which rise up behind us. People arrive from near and far including friends I have known for 30 years or more.

Christian an I get some solo time on a Friday morning 70 minute run in the boiling desert which nearly defeats me but he shrugs off, no worries. From there is is the evening reception, sunshine yoga, toasts, dinner and (of course) dancing including a late night "silent disco" where the DJ spins tunes heard via our headphones creating a strangely intense and intimate scene (and allowing us revellers to keep going well into the night ).

The nuptials overseen by Berkeley friend Perry whose battle, and win, against cancer makes her words the more deep. Eric's poem rings true and Paula's singing and dancing to "More Than A Woman" brings it all home. I reflect on our friendship and our love of music that binds us. The sun sets and the party begins.

Sonnet and Stephanie

Most of all I am overjoyed that my dear friend Christian has found somebody so perfectly suited for him and the rest of his life. Lisa part of the extended Berkeley family.

Paula and Christian

Cal defeats Texas on a Texas missed PAT in the final seconds of the game (scores reported to guests)

Joshua Tree

Yucca Brevifolia

We spend the day in Joshua Tree National Park, about an hour's drive from Palm Springs.

Only found here in the Mojave Desert is the Joshua tree, the largest of the yuccas. Its height varies from 15-40 feet with a diameter of 1-3 feet. They grow 2 to 3 inches a year, takes 50 to 60 years to mature and they can live 150 years.

Joshua trees (and most other yuccas) rely on the female pronuba moth for pollination. No other animal visiting the blooms transfers the pollen from one flower to another. In fact - the female yucca moth has evolved special organs to collect and distribute the pollen onto the surface of the flower. She lays her eggs in the flowers' ovaries, and when the larvae hatch, they feed on the yucca seeds.

Without the moth's pollination, the Joshua tree could not reproduce, nor could the moth, whose larvae would have no seeds to eat. Although old Joshua trees can sprout new plants from their roots, only the seeds produced in pollinated flowers can scatter far enough to establish a new stand.

Mormon pioneers are said to have named this species "Joshua" tree because it mimicked the Old Testament prophet Joshua waving them, with upraised arms, on toward the promised land. This unique species grows abundantly at Joshua tree.

(Source: park info guide)

Downtown LA

Morning sun, up since 2AM

We fly to Los Angeles en route to Palm Springs and CW's wedding to Lisa.  We stay at The Standard in Downtown Los Angeles where we meet Catherine and Catherine's daughter Anneke for a game of ping-pong followed by dinner.

It is hard not to be struck by Los Angeles, which is clearly on the move. Downtown, which was deserted in the 1980s and 90s, is back with new skyscrapers on the build, the Broad Museum (Eli Broad, the wealthy founder) opening this month, the hipsters found across the valley sprawl. Hollywood and Trojan football. 10 lanes of traffic.

Los Angeles was always the superior city to San Francisco in size, culture and  arts, then overtaken during the early halcyon days of Silicon Valley until recently, as San Francisco rents go through the roof and anybody outside of tech (and only a few inside tech) can afford to live there.  It's become an outpost for Google and Facebook and Twitter and AirBNB employees.

Sonnet's Russian Hill studio was $800 or $900 a month while today likely 5 or 6x that (It was a lovely flat with bay views from nearby cross street of Union and Jones; there was always parking but sometimes it took some circling).

Some Dialogue

Sonnet: "I want your mobile phones. 6PM. That's the rule."
Madeleine: "No way."
Me: "It's the house rule. I have nothing to do with it."
Madeleine: "Who makes the house rule then?"
Me: "Talk to your mother. She's the Executive Director."
Sonnet: "Executive Director?"
Madeline: "I am not giving up my mobile phone. I need it to wake up in the morning."
Me: "I will wake you up in the morning. Jump in the bed, smother you with kisses."
Madeleine: "No way."
Sonnet: "I'll wake you up then."
Madeleine: "Uh, I don't trust you."
Sonnet:
Madeleine: "There was that one time you didn't wake me up."
Me: "Yeah, Sonnet, one time in four years. I wouldn't trust you either."
Madeleine: "I'm not giving up my phone."
Eitan: "I'm good with it."
Madeleine: "OK. I'll right a contract then."
Me: "Now we're talking. 'I, Madeleine, can keep my mobile phone until 8PM.' "
Madeleine:
Me: "And I will do the dishes.. .."
Madeleine: "Yeah, right."
Me: "Until 2017."
Madeleine: "No way!"
Me: "I'm just getting started. Then there's the backyard... "
Madeleine: "May I be excused ?"
Me: "Sure. Just leave your phone on the counter."
Madeleine: "I'm not giving up my mobile phone. ..."

Eitan: "I want to go to Airhop instead of Thorpe Park" [Dad's note: Eitan's 15th birthday, with a bunch of friends, is coming up. Airhop is a 'trampoline world' while Thorpe Park is an amusement park.]
Me: "You'd rather go on a trampoline than a terrifying roller coaster?"
Eitan: "Yeah, I guess."
Me: "Why don't you just go over to Helen and Martin's and use their trampoline?"
Eitan:
Me: "You guys can pick apples."
Eitan:
Me: "And make apple pies."
Eitan: "Dad we are not going to make apple pies."
Me: "We can all wear aprons."
Eitan: "Whatever."
Me: "It's all set then. It's going to be the best 15th birthday ever."
Eitan:
Me: "Shall I text the gang?"
Sonnet: "Your Dad is just joking. I think."

Inglorious Beginning

Stag Brewery football pitch

It's all the same to Rusty and just as well as the Lions open their season losing 2-nil to The Barnes Eagles, an inferior team, who barely avoided relegation last year. The Eagles are a bogey who play us well and today no different : we had possession maybe 80% of the game and missed some easy shots  - Eitan had a long chip shot hit the upright and Louie missed an open goal he would otherwise hit in his sleep. Eitan takes it hard as team captain. We have a quiet ride home.

So what to make of Jeremy Corbyn, the new Leader of Labour, moving the party to the left and receiving commendation from Russia and Hamas ? Half his ministers bolt rather than serve under his extreme positions on defence, spending, tax and governing.  It seems Labour coming unhinged following this year's elections. Blair brought Labour to the middle and retained power for 13 years. If Labour fractures it could mean the end of them. But Corbyn could be exactly what Labour and the country need: Fresh thinking, a different vision and a new way forward.

Eitan: "I'm going out. To a party."
Me: "Oh?"
Eitan: "Yeah. It's in Teddington."
Me: "Who's party? Who are the parents?"
Eitan: "It's a girl from LEH." [Dad's note: Lady Elanore Holles is an all-girls sister school to Hampton school.]
Me: "Why am I just hearing about it now? [Dad's note: It is 6PM, Saturday]
Eitan: "Mom knows about it." [Text: Sonnet do you know about a party tonight? Sonnet: I know nothing about a party]
Me: "How are you going to get there?'"
Eitan: "Um, by bus. To meet some friends in Richmond. Then we will go to Teddington together."
Me: "How?"
Eitan" "I don't know. Bus again or something."
Me: "And how will you get home?"
Eitan: "Why do you have to make such a big deal out of these things?"
Me: "Because I'm your father and we have rules in this house." [Dad's note to Moe: Life repeats itself]
Eitan: "Ok, I won't go then."
Me: "Sounds about right."

Super Sonnet

Our gal at mile 13

On a chilly Surrey morning, Sonnet bangs out the Richmond Half Marathon, somehow sneaking in the training since winter. The course starts in Kew Gardens, runs along the Thames until Ham House, then returns to finish at Old Deer Park near the Richmond High Street. While (she insists) it was not for time, her 1:50 puts her pretty close to the PB of 1:48 she ran four years ago when she was bloody well trained. It is a celebration.

Eitan in Bitburg, Germany, this weekend for the Olympic Development Program (ODP) that assesses and selects players to join the player pool for ODP Europe.  If successful, he will be invited back to future camps to train at a high level and compete with local European teams.  Sonnet drops our man off at the airport, 6AM, and off he goes with a few dads and the other ODP hopefuls.

The Cal Bears win their opener in style against Grambling State, a lesser team in a lesser division. Still, hope springs eternal.

Back To School

And with an abrupt summer's end, Eitan and Madeleine return to school, 10th and 9th grade, respectively (since the UK begins formal education one year before the US, they are in the equivalent of 9th and 8th grades). Even worse: homework the first day. Only Rusty is happy to have everybody up at such an early hour.

Eitan enters the GCSE zone (General Certificate of Secondary Education) which determines where he will go to university - unlike US colleges which look for rounded candidates who excel in sport or music or the arts, Britain mostly ties its future generation to several standardised tests. This places a huge burden on the kids to deliver on the day, which I do not favour. Eitan and Madeleien will spend the 18 months revising. The school system is optimised for the test, new learning be damned.

The GCSEs are rigorous, recognised abroad, taken in a number of subjects usually over two years, with students selecting a handful of electives.  Eitan will tackle history, geography and drama.

Sonnet, too, gears up for the fall: her next exhibition (2017) will be on Cristobal Balenciga. She is invited to speak on post-Second WW fashion in Italy at a conference in Brighton and to contribute a chapter to a book on same for early 2016. Me, I've got €2bn to raise.

Back To Work

West Wycombe

Since it is the last summer "bank holiday" Monday, I settle in for the rain (good for the tomatoes, I reassure myself) and the latest instalment of Wallace & Gromit.  Sonnet offers Earl Grey tea, taken with milk and a few crackers. We fortify ourselves with a brisk walk in Richmond Park so the dog can take exercise.

The UK shows a remarkable resilience this time of year: it's back to work and the British do so with a vengeance.  The kids return to school, the workers the salt mines, and anybody in finance to a prison of their own making, regardless - or because of - the pay. Traffic returns to normal which is to say it was quicker to cross Central London via horse-and-carriage 100 years ago than today in a black cab. True fact.

Me: "Are you looking forward to school?"
Eitan: "Uhhh looking forward to it I guess. The only bit I'm not looking forward to are the mornings. But otherwise I can't wait to get back into the swing of things."
Me: "Which classes?"
Eitan: "English, Spanish, maths, physics and biology. "
Me: "Why those?"
Eitan: "They're interesting. And fun."
Me: "How about football?"
Eitan: "Yep, it's going to good to play for Hampton this year."
Me: "What are your goals?"
Eitan: "To score more goals. To win a trophy. To win the ISFA or the Surrey Cup."
Me; "Lot of good things to ahead of you."
Eitan: "Yeah."

Bedfont Friendly

Back flip, soft touch

Autumn can mean only one thing: The Lions are back in action.  Yesterday our U15s take on Bedfont in a "friendly."

The pitch notable for its proximity to Heathrow and us Dads marvel at the Airbus 380s and the 747s taking off - holy Jesus, how can anybody live so close to the airport ? Of course it is a human rights violation to build a 3rd runway. I digress.

Eitan the team captain, chosen by his teammates, and a nice honour. He is determined to put one in the net against Bedfont and sees a 30-yard free-kick hit the top goal post and several other shots barely miss the outside corners. Finally, satisfaction, as a chip shot hits the top left corner leaving the goal keeper frozen.  All the sweeter as Bedfont pummelled the Lions 9-1 last year in the same pre-season match.

A moment for optimism - sport, family and work.

W Wycombe

Happy reunion

Halley and Ava spend Saturday night following a football match cancelled as a commuter plane hits a motor route, bursting in to flames, and creating a traffic problem to Bristol. Same as it ever was. 

Ava now plays for the Arsenal U15 squad and the kid is wired for the game: powerful body, gentle touch. She taps the ball constantly. I ask her record for picky-uppies and, while she unsure,  it has to be over 400. Easily.

Sunday we reunion with Nita, Alain and the wonderful Three Zeds for a hike in West Wycombe in Buckinghamshire. Unsurprisingly Zebulon crushed his GCSEs with 12 A*, the very highest possible outcome. He contemplates a future of computer sciences or math. He already has a live gaming app to his name.

Alain continues to dish out applied math PhD projects like M&Ms from the jar. To what reward? I ask. The satisfaction of answering the unknown, his reply. This year his team solved the puzzle of the chameleon tongue, whose force velocity relationship made no sense.  Still doesn't, but at least there is an equation now.

Elevators

Gentle reminder: Do not fuck around with the elevator

In all the cities I visit elevators are a Big Deal since my meetings seem to be above the 40th floor. China had about three million elevators in operation at the end of 2013.

I am reminded of a trip to Nairobi for HTWS where the building elevators did not work. Nobody seemed to mind and 20 floors easily walked (which we did).

Seoul

Still sane - barely

My week ends in Seoul where our hotel overlooks the skyline from the many rolling mountains that surround the city.

Stephane and I run to the top of Namsan Mountain, where the Namsan Tower located, and the highest point in the city. It's kinda straight up and, since it's not like competitive or anything, we over-exert ourselves and, again, I must remind myself that these things no longer come easily.

Of course we get lost on the route back, starts to rain and the sun goes down. Sat nav not working.

Eventually, after a reasonable run becomes a long run, we are back in time for an evening drink. A highlight : passing a floodlit baseball pitch where professionally youngsters play into the after-evening hours, regardless of the weather.

Tokyo

Westward; on a clear day one can see Mt Fuji

Tokyo goes on forever.

From the cereal box: In striking contrast to the ethnic and racial diversity that characterize large American cities, Tokyo, like the rest of Japan, is overwhelmingly mono-racial. The largest non-Japanese minorities that live in Tokyo as Japanese citizens are Korean and Chinese nationals, who are never considered Japanese even though some of these families have lived in Japan for centuries. Tokyo has always attracted Japanese from areas beyond its borders, mostly people from the rural areas to the north and east who come in hopes of benefiting from Tokyo's economic prosperity, which is often in stark contrast to the depressed economies of much of rural Japan. Many of these newcomers, and many native Tokyoites, are young people, who throng the streets at all hours of the day and night, infusing the city with an atmosphere of youthful vitality.

Sushi san

While extremely polite, the Japanese are also very difficult to read. They are often poker faced in meetings and react to facial expressions, instead of jokes or words, which can be disconcerting. I'm bewildered when saying "online dating" results in a senior figure throwing his head back laughing. His junior colleagues take their cue and also howl with laughter.

I learn a few sushi etiquettes : never dip the rice-side in soy sauce, which absorbs the liquid (and is insulting to the itamae). Never rub one's chopsticks together. Do not mix wasabi in soy sauce. Ginger is a palate cleanser and should be consumed between each sushi, not with it. Never use chopsticks to take or pass food from another's plate. Infractions will likely result in being ignored by the itamae.

I had a friend in business school named Jushi. Only I called him "sushi" for one semester and he never corrected me.

In Europe, the migrant crisis continues - Merkel says it is a test for the union greater than Greece.

Japantown

Bento bo 

Tokyo : Stephane is a super dude who recently made partner at Astorg.

Our arrival too late for restaurants so we find a 24 hour sushi joint near our hotel in the Shiodome, not far from the fish markets. It's honestly the best sushi I've ever had - better than London's Akeda or Umu, which nets a check for several hundred pounds for dinner. As cool is the hustle-bustle at 2AM : businessman, revellers, couples. No tourists.

Tokyo is the most modern of all cities - there are multiple skylines in different districts, putting Manhattan to shame. The streets are clean, it feels safe, and the Japanese don't speak English (though the signposts are also in English even if they make no sense). If asked for directions or anything else in English, the Japanese will walk away - not rudeness but embarrassment for not being able to answer.

The Japanese remarkably polite. My favourite : upon departure, the hosts wait in a bow until the elevator doors are closed.  

Teipai

B2 - two levels below surface

I arrive Taipei at midnight, time for a swim before bed.

Of my meetings, most impressive is WTT, the family office of Tsai Wan-Tsai (public record) who founded the Fubon Group, the biggest and most profitable insurance company in Taiwan which recently overtook Cathay for the  No. 1 spot ( Cathay remarkable founded and run by by Tsai’s brother).

Not moved ? The family further owns Taiwan Mobile (#2 mobile co in Taiwan), the largest cable TV company, the biggest TV shopping network and China Bank (regional license for Taiwan). All in, WTT controls over one-third of the Taiwanese economy.

Unusually (to me), much of daily life takes place underground as restaurants and shops and fitness centres must take advantage of the free-space beneath the city streets. 

Taipei, compared to Tokyo, Singapore or Seoul, has shabby infrastructure despite its $45k per capita. Most expect China to invade one day - why invest ?

Last time I was here was 1994 sourcing eye-glass frames for Help The World See.

Beijing

View from my room

Beijing traffic is surprisingly sparse as we make our way around the city's tourist sites and to meetings. I learn that many of the main roads closed for a military parade (joint, with Russia) for 3 Sept, which requires practise and planning: public not allowed. The celebration marks the 70 year anniversary of the Second World War's end. Interestingly this is the first time for the parade - a signal of strength, perhaps ?

Also: the World Athletic Championships taking place at the Beijing "Birdcage" National Stadium and factories ordered shut to reduce pollution. It works, too. No smog.

Beijing's population is ca. 21m or world's 8th largest (Tokyo number one with 37m). I arrive as 2015 H1 growth below expectations while Xi Jiping's anti-corruption campaign has caused a serious political  wobble inflicting pain on equity exchanges around the world : Hong Kong down 30% from its May peak; the NYSE around -10%. Yet it is only calm with the investment professionals I meet. Of course concern, but otherwise only confidence.

From Beijing to Taipei.

Center Of The Earth

Visiting The Center Of The Earth

Stephane and I pay a visit to the China Investment Corp with its $600bn of assets under management. If one wants to know where the power is in China, have a look at the Board of Directors and Board of Supervisors, all public on Wiki, a website not available in China. Nor is Facebook, Google or Youtube. 

From CIC it is CICC, the largest investment bank in China. 

We meet only women, as is JJ, who shows us around. She tells us in China, a male dominated Asian culture, women have equal opportunity. 

Back home, the Shakespeares enjoy summer - Eitan has pre-season football practice while Madeleine "chills out and nothing else" (Me: You must have done something? Madeleine: Nope) which makes me feel good.

"NBA games are exciting to watch and have global appeal. They are very popular in China. I do watch NBA games on television when I have time."
--Xi Jinping

Temple Of Heaven

Temple of Heaven

I catch the direct from Heathrow to Beijing Capital Airport, the sixth largest building in the world by area AND a third runway built in no-time-flat for the 2008 Olympics. Heathrow may get a third runway after 20 years in 20 years.

I depart London on Saturday, 2PM, arriving in China on Sunday, 12 noon, a bit disorienting : travelling East always the difficult direction.  At our hotel I swim on the 59th floor (the building once the tallest in China and now it is No. 2) before joining Stephane and Laurent for lunch on the 68th floor. At this height, inside an atrium, everything a bit weird like the trees or the floor-to-ceiling wine on display behind glass walls.

From the Park Hyatt we go to the Temple Of Heaven (pictured), a medieval complex of religious buildings visited by the Emperors of the Ming and Qing dynasties for annual ceremonies of prayer to Heaven for good harvest.

"Political power grows out of the barrel of a gun."

--Mao

Railroad Tracks

One year of braces

We go for a day hike Alpes Maritimes which are remarkable for the rock formations that tower above the path.

Madeleine finishes re-reading "Fault In Our Stars" and when I get a bunch of "dunknows" to my questions regarding the book, I ask her to make up the sequel. She entertains me for a several miles of walking. Her creative mind always at work.

S. France

Chillax

Eitan about as excited for Manchester football as about anything and we plan the evening around ManU vs. some unheard-of-team which is broadcast on the cable channel. The kids beg for McDonald's and Sonnet relents meaning they enjoy the perfect night in France.

We are on the beach for one week.

Eitan reads the biography of Sir Alex Ferguson, the legendary Manchester United coach. Joyce's 'Dubliners' stays in the suitcase. Fair enough.

Turn Around

We arrive home from a long-drive from Scotland to catch a plane to Provence.

Madeleine: "Do they call you forehead because it is as big as four fingers ?"
Me: "I'd not thought of it like that before."

In the line at customs we ponder the notice, "P before Q"
Me: "What the hell does that mean?"
Madeleine: "Pee before queuing. Go to the bathroom before the line."
Me: "You are a genius."

Coastline Of Muck

We do a hike circling Muck and ending on its peak or ca. 421 feet from sea level.  This entails a mild/ slushy hike across fields, along the coastline, through ferns and finally up a sharp path that takes us to the summit. It ain't Rakaposhi.

The kids are mostly good sports about it but happy when the walk behind us. At the tea house Madeleine feeds a cow. The dog is in his element.

Welcome To The Isle of Muck

"Come to the Isle of Muck to get away, relax, and enjoy the wonderful wildlife and scenery."
For many years I have wondered about the islands off Britain and so Sonnet puts things in motion: We visit the Isle of Muck in the Inner Hebrides of Scotland (we cross Rum and Eigg on the ferry). 

Muck measures about 2.5 miles east to west and has a population of around 30, mostly living near the harbour at Port Mor. The other settlement on the island is the farm at Gallanach. There is a small hotel, a tea shop and not much else on the High Street.

Tom picks us up at the ferry station in an ancient Land Rover meant not for Chelsea but the unpaved roads of the isle. With us are 12 or so visitors here for a family reunion which means the local accommodations are otherwise sold out (this would qualify as "packed"). Tom and his family live here 365 days a year for the peace and solitude. They own a bunch of sheep, which Rusty chases with joy to Sonnet's horror, on a farm estate that stretches to the water. Amazon delivers the essentials. Of course it is rainy and window but that is the point.

I find an unexpected emerald bay to skinny dip.

Maillag

Sound of Sleat looking at the Isle of Rum

Eitan and Madeleine survive camp and we pick them up outside Ft William and drive to Maillaig, a fishing town founded in the 1840s, where we catch a ferry to The Isle of Muck.

Sonnet, Eitan and I have visited Maillaig before - for a day-trip in October, 2001 - or shortly after Eitan turned one-year old. We were visiting Fort William so I could climb Ben Nevis, the highest mountain in Britain at 1,344 meters located on the western end of the Grampian Mountains in The Highlands. The summit can be reached with a vigorous day hike up. So I and Eitan (dutiful strapped in a backpack) set out for the base in the pouring rain and spring snow. The taxi driver suggests it might not be an optimal day for a climb and Eitan's howls convince me the reasonable - safe! - thing to do is to not do it. Probably the right call.

So Maillaig. along with being the busiest Herring port in Europe during the 1960s, is famous for its scallops and the family restaurant where we dined in 2001 still there and we enjoy a meal while I ask myself the inevitable question : where did the time go ?

Dad's factoid: The Mallaig railway - Hogwarts Express - used during the filming of the Harry Potter

Loch Hourn

Self Portrait XXXXVII

Sonnet finds a charming hiking station at Loch Hourn where we hole up for the night following a day trekking along a section of the 200 mile Cape Wraith Trail.

Loch Hourn runs inland from the Sound of Sleat (about right) opposite the island of Skye for 14 miles to the head of the loch at Kinloch Hourn. At the entrance, it is 3 miles wide, becoming less than 1.5 mile wide for much of its length, with successive narrows in the upper reaches and reducing to a 300-metre-wide basin at the head, where we start our walk.

The Loch is fjord-like and mostly steep-sided, with Beinn Sgritheall to the north and Ladhar Bheinn rising from the southern shore. The sea floor has been shaped by glaciation into five progressively deeper basins with relatively shallow sills; combined with the narrow and sheltered aspect of the loch and the high local rainfall, these result in an unusually wide variation of salinity and sea habitats over the length of the loch.

The Highlands

The kids shipped off to Scotland and Outward Bound for a week of outdoor activities including hiking, camping, canoing and surviving [Dad's note: Outward Bound founded in the UK, now more popular in the US, and aims to foster the personal growth and social skills of participants by using challenging expeditions in the outdoors. Bill is on the Board]. Madeleine: "Do I have to go?"

Sonnet and I drive to The Highlands for some hiking before picking up the Shakespeares. Despite the population density of Britain (64m people in an area half the size of California), most of Scotland is remote, beautiful .. . and wet. Our rainy days punctuated by brilliant sunshine that warms one to the bones.  Unusually for so far North (56.8 degree latitude) the fauna is tropical thanks to the jetstream, which dumps warm damp weather across the British Isles.

The Berkeley Way

This dude a fixture in my and many friends' memories from years ago. Every morning, rain or shine, Jeremy stood on the corner of Martin Luther King Jr Way (formerly Grove Street until 1984) and Russell Street waving to motorists and encouraging us to have a good day. This was the 1970s and not everything hunky-dory btw. He made the corner a better place. Where have guys like this gone ? (photo from Laurel, 3rd grade friend)

Madeleine and I go to the local pool. A cartoon poster of an overweight balding sunburned middle age man exhorts us to "get in shape this summer."
Me: "Does that guy look like me?"
Madeleine: "No."
Me: "Well, phew."
Madeleine: "You don't have a sunburn". 

Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?
Our nation turns its lonely eyes to you.
What's that you say, Mrs. Robinson?
Jotting Joe has left and gone away.

--Simon & Garfunkel, Bookends

Still Crazy After All These Years

Park and 57th

I am in New York for a few meetings, travelling with JL from Astorg. JL a founder of the firm and charismatic like few people I know: he draws a room's attention without saying a word. He could easily be in the movies, playing an enforcer or ruthless assassin. I mean this as the highest complement.

A joy of visiting Manhattan is seeing Katie which works out to a bunch of times a year. I always make sure to plan my trips around at least one dinner with her, solo. She is doing the most interesting things and the only little sister I have. One of those things that makes life worth living and I cherish all the more with age.

In college Katie and I spent a night dancing at the Palladium (1986!) then hanging out in an all-night  diner, me smoking, waiting for the first morning train from Grand Central Station to Bronxville. Pretty cool, youth.

Manhattan Sunrise

OK, seriously catching up on my blog. I am feeling the loss of momentum - whereas until recently I pounced on each missive, I now find myself resisting, a drag - like running in water. So why the inertia ? Partly, perhaps, there is less to blog about : not that the daily humour of life and kids diminished (my main subject matter of course) but rather I find a greater need to filter what the Shakespeares say and do. No teenager wants their Dad writing over their shoulder.

Also this is a crunch period : kids becoming adults, parents aging - I'm aging - and work requiring full-on attention.

So, that aside, here is a Manhattan morning taken from the southside of Sheep's Meadow. Like nowhere else, a new day in New York City can change one's life.

Cultural Experience

Tuileries fair (Eitan far right)

Eitan in Paris. Sonnet: "Are you kidding me?"

I refuse to join.

Eitan works on an algorithm for his Rubik's cube. After 24 hours straight, he is moving: "Well, it's really complicated because first, you have to know your Rubik's cube, and you have to understand the relationship between each piece. There are certain steps to cracking it. Gradually, over time, it gets closer. Pretty much it all involves understanding where to put each colour in relationship with all colours."

And, he adds, "there are 43 quintillion combinations."

Madeleine: "Math just ruins everything."

8e

Place de la Concorde

Eitan and I finish our time in Paris visiting Petit Palais off the Champs for coffee/ hot chocolate and croissants and some art followed by the Germaine Krull photography exhibition at the Jeu de Paume. We then stroll across Tuileries before heading back to the hotel along rue du Faoubourg St Honoré. It is nice to see Paris through his eyes.

In Eitan's eyes, it's a Rubiks cube and we look for the toy in le marais.

Eitan finishes "The Great Gatsby" and now reads Joyce' "Dubliners".

Me: "Give me one sentence on the Gatsby for my blog."

Eitan says: "Um, it sums up how being so close to something you desperately want can drive you mad."

Me: "Pretty good."

Paris Express

Etan joins me in Paris.

I give the boy €100 and tell him to explore Paris while I go into Astorg. He does a good job, too, visiting Madeleine Cathedral, St Augustine Church and the Tuileries garden, where he spends the afternoon basking in the sunshine, reading "The Great Gatsby."  We have dinner together.

Me: "Are you looking forward to summer?"
Eitan: "It's almost half-way over."
Me: "I suppose you're right. I guess we have different perspectives on it."
Eitan:
Me: "Don't grow up kid."