Zug

Suisse

Zurich this morning, which reminds me of Versoix, 1983-84, catching the 6:14AM train to Geneva where I was picked up by Tony Ulrich, the coach of Geneve Natation, who drove me to Piscine Vernets for morning practice. Standing on the platform in the freezing cold and complete darkness, I watched the overhead Rolex clock . tick.. tick.. .tick the second hand with round red-circle went. 6:12AM,  train arrives. At 6:14AM, train departs.

Zurich a good station, too : cavernous, covering an entire city block, empty in the middle allowing passengers to run for their train or loiter. The best thing the young people : it is not often that I see them in their natural habitat- smoking , laughing, hanging out. Packs of them. Some with dyed or spiked hair; others like 1950s preppies. Piercings. Peg legs and converse or army boots. Always flirting. All good. It reminds me of that time in my life which was never fleeting then but now : is. And gone.

Not far from Zurich is Davos where 47-global leaders and the Good and the Great having a Pow Wow.  David leading several sessions ; unfortunately I cannot join him for dinner.

VER - KURD

I am with VER, also known as the State Pension Fund of Finland - picture taken from a conference window (The pension located at Mikonkatu 15 and I can envision Soviet tanks filling the plaza ; Russia a stone's throw east ). VER is external to the state budget (ie, Govt has no control over their investment decisions) and established in 1990 ; their long-term liabilities are aprox. €90 B while the investment portfolio mkt value is €20B. In short: they need returns, and so have invested with my friends in Paris and why I am with them today.

My driver , Schwarmi, picks me up from Terminal 3 : Radio 4 announces that Salman Rushdie's address to the Indian people, which has become a battle for freedom of speech, cancelled as a small bunch of religious zealots threaten violence. I ask Schwarmi what he thinks : "I am ashamed to be Muslim" he tells me.

Schwarma from Northern Iraq and a Kurd; his father had an import-export business in the 1960s which brought the family to London; Schwarmi immigrated 18-years ago (he is middle-age).  I ask if England racist ? "Never. I have always felt safe here." And : "I will never go back to Iraq. I returned once and it is the end. It is the uneducated who wish violence. It is always them." I ask if Iraqis hate Americans ?  "No. Iraqis love Americans. Northern Iraq is booming, there is lots of businesses. It is because the Americans and the British are there. Some Iraqis want the Americans to leave our country but I say - why? We should let them come here and stay. They have helped us. They have invested in Iraq."

Madeleine , nonchalantly, tells us over dinner that David Cameron at Saturday's paint-ball birthday party (confirmed by Alex's mum). Turns out Cameron's oldest about paint-balling age.

Kamp

Helsinki, for work.  Mikko and I have drinks at Hotel Kämp and, I learn, he and his girlfriend have bought a house.  Usually, as in usually in the UK or the US, one might get married first but "it is perfectly normal" in Finland for couples to extend their relationship into financial obligations before they tie the knot.  It is one of the many things I love about here : despite being a tiny inter-linked community there are freedoms quite different from elsewhere. It is also impossible to get decaffeinated coffee.

Mikko and the city a-buzzing about the Guggenheim's recent decision to build a museum on the Helsinki waterfront (estimated cost: €140M).  The city chosen for its tradition in art and design and its plans to develop the harbour properties. Otherwise, surprisingly, Helsinki lacks a significant modern art collection. The architect has yet to be chosen but I vote for Renzo Piano. 

One From The Sidelines

Phil, pictured, is the father of Alphie, the Elm Grove goal-keeper.  I often hear him growling from the sidelines. When Phil suggests I don't have permission to take his picture, I tell him I will put the photo above my bed.

Sutton United

The boy has had a busy week-end , sitting his final entrance exam - this time for Kings College Wimbledon., a fine looking school with a big church tower in the middle of an immaculate grounds. Given the rake 15 out of 300 testers, the odds against us.

That was Saturday and today it is Elm Grove vs. Sutten, a speedy team in the county Surrey.  They defeat us, 1-nil, but the score secondary to the quality of football : excellent. Elm Grove works together and the play tight and efficient.  Every other action seems to be a long-break off a half-field pass. The ref misses an obvious Sutten foul in our penalty-box and that was probably the difference in the match.  Eitan gets pushed around by the kid , pictured in yellow, who takes a number of cheap shots when the focus elsewhere. Eitan tells me : "I wasn't intimidated or anything. But it made me kinda angry."  That's football.

Madeleine, for her part, at Alex's all-day birthday party followed by a slumber party. Me: "How was the party?" Madeleine: "Fine." Me: "What did you guys do?" Madeleine: "Stuff."  24-hours in two words. And so it goes.

Swedish Connection

Bengt Baron (right) and Par Arvidsson , 1980

Baron a Swede who won the 100 m backstroke at the 1980 Moscow Olympics and a bronze in the 4×100 m freestyle relay in Los Angeles four years later. From 1979 to 1985 he won 33 Swedish titles. Like Arvidsson, he went to Cal to train with Nort Thorton and that is when I met him.

My senior year of high-school I swam with the Bears and, though Baron graduated a year or two before my time, he occasionally showed up for morning practise and we would huddle in the equipment shed dreading the shock of the outdoor pool at 6AM. Like most swimmers, he is tall - maybe 6'4'' and thin (Arvidsson, by contrast, a muscle-man so it takes all types).  Baron's arms hyper-extended at the elbow-joint which allowed him a better "grip" on the water. He was a formidable competitor.

After swimming Baron got an MBA from Berkeley in '88  then went to McKinsey & Co; from there, he joined a bunch of consumer companies including Coca-Cola and Kodak. In 2001, he was named CEO and President of Absolut Vodka.  Baron lived up to, and surpassed, his early promise. Neat guy.

Gastronomy

Sonnet in '93.

So today (or yesterday, anyway): we are to Paris to join David and Tabitha for a drink at the Bristol then dinner at Alain Passard's three-Michelin star gastronomic mecca : L'Aperge. Beforehand , David spends a few hours with Astorg talking about Europe. Of the many people I know who are invested in this part of the world, David understands it better than most. His access to top political leaders, economists and financiers allows him the complete picture: Wed night, for instance, he visits Francoise Hollande's economics team (Hollande, a socialist, may be the next President of France). Last week, it is Italy's Prime Minister Mario Monti. David makes me look like a million bucks with my French friends. And as for Europe's future : it is going to get darker before it gets brighter.

We begin dinner with an egg : de-capped and topped up with a lite foamy cream. Sublime. From there it is nine courses, including the cheeses , which cover langoustine from Loctudy, ormer from Brittany, sautéd soles, butter mousse, truffles, oignon doux gratin, parmigiano reggiano ... sarawak black pepper, beetroot with Guérande grey salt, aceto balsamico 25 years of age, mixed vegetables with herbs, a thousand flavours, Sautéd endive with nuts, bacon from Baden ... and on and on it goes, each plate accompanied by its own wine. Wow.

Madeleine comments on the egg: "Was it, like, rotten?"

Madeleine: "Why were you with David in Paris?"
Me: "He was talking to some friends about the European crisis . .."
Madeleine: "What?! There is a crisis?"
Me: "Yes, for some time now."
Eitan: "We have, like 100-billion pounds of debt. £200 billion, maybe."
Me: "A bit more than that."
Madeleine: "Why don't they just pay it back?"
Me: "It's a good idea but a  bit more complicated unfortunately."
Madeleine: "It's because it has been a failure."
Me:
Madeleine: "No offence to them."

Eitan: "Jay oon petty sur."
Me:
Eitan: Jay oon petty sur. Don't you know what that is?
Me: "No."
Eitan: "'I have a little sister.' "
Me: "Learning French in school I see."

Hell

John Martin's Arthur and Aegle in the Happy Valley based on an Arthurian legend of Aegle’s last night on earth. Pictured, from the Tate Britain collection.

Today is one of those collectives bummers shared by commuters. I am late from the house and it starts raining  (me, in suit, no umbrella). The train over-crowded and humid so I stand perspiring , jammed against a woman reading Farsi on her phone app, wishing the sweat down my back would go away. Wishing I was anywhere else. Each stop brings more people who implore us to "move in!" or "Move to the middle!" As, if.  I make eye contact with the blond and we are both equally uncomfortable when this happens for the fifth time. No pick-up scene, this. I have seen people yell at each other in similar circumstances.

By Clapham Jnct I consider ditching my first meeting. Vauxhall, where I finally exit , finds a 50-foot line to enter the Underground.  I see not one smiling face. Buying an umbrella at Victoria, I am told that I must spend ten-pounds to use my debit card. The purchase price : $9.75.  We actually discuss this. I add some shoelaces to my purchase. It is not 9AM.

Madeleine: "Did you know that it takes seven red ants to kill a butterfly?"
Me: "That's nice, Dear."

Little Red Box

The ubiquitous red booth. How soothing. How British. It is amazing to consider, then, that the first phone kiosks introduced by the Post Office in 1920 made of concrete.  The red telephone booth the result of a 1924 design-competition won by Giles Gilbert Scott , who originally suggested silver, with a "greeny-blue" interior.  By 1925, there were 1,000 red booths in the UK.  At the peak, in the mid-1990s, there were 95,000 red phone boxes.

Today, thanks to mobile phones, there are only 15,000 red kiosks left, of which 946 are in London. 2,400 of the phones are listed as heritage sites and therefore legally protected from removal. BT is the sole company that can provide the Scott phones from an agreement in 1996.

This friendly fellow snapped on Millbank Rd, bordering the north side of the Thames near Vauxhall Bridge.

"Middle age is when you're sitting at home on a Saturday night and the telephone rings and you hope it isn't for you."
--Ogden Nash

John Martin

We meet James and Emily for a late lunch then the Tate Britain to see the 'John Martin: Apocalypse" exhibition. Here is what the brochure says:

"Visionary, eccentric, populist and epic, John Martin was a controversial but key figure in nineteenth century art. Like his canvases, this wildly dramatic artist with his visions of heaven and hell, was larger than life.

"Organised in partnership with the Laing gallery, Newcastle, this is the first major exhibition dedicated to Martin's work in over 30 years. It brings together his most famous paintings of apocalyptic destruction and biblical disaster from collections around the world, as well as previously unseen and newly-restored works.

"Hugely popular in his time, Martin was derided by the Victorian Art establishment as a 'people's painter', for although he excited mass audiences with his astounding scenes of judgement and damnation, to critics it was distasteful. In a sense ahead of this time, his paintings - full of rugged landscapes and grandiose theatrical spectacle - have an enduring influence on today's cinematic and digital fantasy landscapes.

"This exhibition presents a spectacular vision, capturing the full drama and impact of John Martin's paintings as they were originally displayed. Just as in the nineteenth century, these epic and often astounding works must be seen to be believed."
--Tate Britain

Annabel's And Tramps

It is cold morning and the pitches frozen so the Elm Grove v. Suten United cancelled and we get a needed lie-in following a late-night of dining and dancing with Natalie and Justin at Annabel's : think long legs , tarty dresses and hedge fund money.  All good.

Annabel's founded in 1963, when Brit entrepreneur John Birley decided he needed somewhere to party after an evening's gambling. As a result, he turned the basement of Aspinall's casino, the Clermont Club, into a nightclub, and named it after his then wife, Annabel. It was the first of its kind: a member-only nightclub that catered to an exclusive clientele, including The Prince of Wales, Camilla Parker-Bowles, The Princess Anne, Richard Nixon, Aristotle Onassis and Frank Sinatra. Entertainers who have played there include Tina Turner, Ray Charles, Ella Fitzgerald, Diana Ross and Lady Gaga. The sumptuous interior was originally designed by Birley and since updated by Birley's daughter India Jane (source: wiki).  Don Draper would be right at home.

Me: "How does it feel to be in the front seat?"
Madeleine: "Ok, I guess. But what if I get killed?"
Me: "Let's hope not."
Madeleine: "I mean by the air bag. Aren't kids supposed to sit in the back so they don't get killed by the air bag ?"
Me: "Your big enough now so I don't think we have to worry."
Madeleine:
Me: "Here, help me unload this junk from the back."
Madeleine: "This would be a good place for a tramp."
Me: "Oh?"
Madeleine: "Lots of used mattresses and stuff."
Me: "I suppose you're right."
Madeleine: "Are there lots of tramps ?"
Me: "I don't know. What makes you think of that?"
Madeleine: "I was just thinking it would be lonely to be a tramp and not having a home to go to."
Me: "Probably so."

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Votes

( I was unable to source this photograph ).

Richmond Morning

The moon sets over 'two storm forrest' in Richmond Park near the Sheen Gate entrance. Shot with a Canon 7D, 1:2.8 77m lens.

Madeleine: "Dad can I have some of those Doritos?"
Me: "For breakfast?"
Madeleine: "Yeah, so?"
Me: "What kind of a parent would I be if I let you eat Doritos for breakfast?"
Madeleine: "A good one."

Team Madeleine

Madeleine sits the 10+ exam for the Emmanuel school.  Sonnet drops her off on the way to work.  Madeleine has been working hard and, as I tell her, the results don't matter : it is the preparation that we are proud of (Ps: the results matter).

The Night Of Long Knives

I am with Astorg last night, treated to a cooking lesson by Alain Ducasse at his culinary master home, Le Parc, in the 16th arrondisment.  Ducasse the first chef to have a Michelin three-star restaurant in three cities : Paris, London and New York .  His restaurant at the Dorchestor the ultimate power play, if you can get a reservation , and willing to pay a couple hundred quid for a meal. We separate into groups with our razor sharpened blades and  slice onions, peel and gut crustaceans, chop onions and prepare a boulibase; the other group responsible for the meats and sauces. We dine on our making with excellent wines, coffees and petit four.

This is my second three-Michelin stars with Astorg in the last ten months : the other being the wonderful "Le Petie Nice" by Gerald Passedat.  How delicatessen.

"The best way to execute French cooking is to get good and loaded and whack the hell out of a chicken. Bon appétit."
--Julia Child

Early Days, My Love

Sonnet in 1993 at Lake Alpine - we had been dating maybe three months.  How lucky I am to to see her face every day.

Here is what we get on BBC 3 prime time television: "How Sex Works - The First Time.  This episode seeks to understand what's going on in our minds and bodies on the road to losing our virginity and to find out just what happens when we fall in love."  As, if.

Italian near-term bonds at 7.13% when I checked today - above the 7% considered unsustainable leading pundits to squawk : "downward death spiral" !  Compare this to Germany, which sold six-month notes with a yield of minus 0.0122%, the first time a national money-market instrument offered a negative yield.  Think about that one for a moment.

Skype, Dude

Welcome to the 21st Century, about five years late, but hey , here we are, video con-fer-enc-ing. Katie gets us going and takes this photograph.

Sunday Catch Up

Madeleine hides behind the coach. Eitan fixates on Manchester United vs. Manchester City. Sonnet tidies up the kitchen and I blog. Yep, Sunday evening.

It follows a busy day, too : Eitan's Elm Grove draw 1-1 against Kingstonian Youth then we drive madly across Southwest London to join Sonnet and Madeleine at the Surrey swimming championships qualifier.  Eitan picks up the 200m freestyle (2:32) and 50m freestyle (32.36) and Madeleine competes the 200m freestyle in 3:46 and competes in 50m backstroke, 50m breast stroke, 50m freestyle (times to come). Even the dog gets a run in, I am happy to oblige. 

Thursday night sees us at The River Cafe, with Jim and Peri then Bath for Tabitha and David's 12th night party which is a well-oiled machine from the excellent wine to Swedish meatballs. The guests are always entertaining and Sonnet and I stay at Claridges, a local B&B where we have been before.

Man U > Man City, 3-2

Frank Horwill, MBE, 1927-2012

Frank Horwill, who I met on the Battersea track in 1998 preparing for the '98 London Marathon, passed away from stomach cancer on January 1st.   He was a gentle man and remarkable coach - our paths crossed again in '03 and '05 when I was training for various half-marathons. He always had a friendly smile, a few words of advice and a stop watch around his neck.

The Times remarks :  "Horwill played a vital role in the world dominance of British middle-distance running in the 1980s.  In that decade, British athletes held world records from the 800 through to the 5,000 meters and, at one point, claimed every leading global 1,500 metre title.  Sebastian Coe was the Olympic champion, Steve Cram was world champion, Steve Ovett held the European crown and Dave Moorcroft the Commonwealth title.  All were  members of the British Milers' Club, which Horwill founded in 1963 when British middle-distance was in the doldrums."

"We've only just begun to work."
--Frank Horwill