All posts by Stephen Darlington

New York, 2006

The company where I (currently) work is always trying to get people to transfer over to the New York office. There are a number of personal reasons why I didn’t want to do that, however the main reason was always that it — basically — just didn’t appeal. It really didn’t seem to be very much different from London, where I currently live, but, well, more. So when I visited New York in April I was not expecting to like it very much.

As this was my first time in New York, and only my second in the United States, I was immediately drawn to the things that the place is famous for. Yellow taxis. The Empire State Building. The Statue of Liberty. Central Park. I managed to “do” them all, but not always on the first attempt!

The first time I went to the Battery Park pier for the Liberty Island ferry I found a long, snaking line of people and no shade from the sun. Not feeling like turning lobster-red for my wedding photos, I decided to postpone.

Typically the weather turned the day after making this decision. It got to the point that you could barely see statue from Manhattan and I was starting to think the trip might have to wait until my next time in New York. But on my last day the clouds and rain lifted enough to consider it. Even the crowds had evaporated.

For the short trip out, the boat was accompanied by the coast-guard. The memory of September 11th lives on. I just walked around the statue rather than going inside. You can’t go all the way to the top like you could previously — security again. Liberty looks more impressive In Real Life than it does in the pictures. I’m not sure exactly what it is, but it has a poise and grace that doesn’t come across quite so well in photographs.

A ferry took me from Liberty to Ellis Island, which was home to US Immigration for many years. It was late so I only managed a quick look around. It was fascinating if only because my wife had been dealing with UK Immigration for most of the time I’ve known her!

I had a similar experience with the Empire State Building. I first got there and found a vast queue. I had to be at dinner in about ninety minutes. Unfortunately the staff said that there was a ninety minute wait just to get to the top!

The next week I came back and splashed out on an Express Pass. I felt like a celebrity walking past all the queues — sorry, since we’re in America, lines — to step into the lift.

The main difference between London and New York I found is that New York is much taller. I guess this is a fairly obvious observation, but the lack of sky was quite striking from ground level. From the top of the Empire State Building you can see it all laid out in front of you. Even nearly a century after it first opened there is little taller. Looking down, ‘little’ six or seven story buildings seem nearly as far away as the throngs of yellow taxis. South of here, the buildings are smaller — the ground-rock isn’t as solid — until near the tip of Manhattan where things get taller again, and where the twin towers used to stand. Facing north you realise just how big Central Park is.

I’m glad I did the Empire State near the end of my time in New York. It allowed me to make sense of the various bits of geography I’d come to vaguely know. Oh, so that’s next to that!

Not quite fitting in the theme of “failed visits,” I saw Times Square a few times at various times of day. On the way to my hotel I believe I passed through it without realising. I look back and wonder how that was possible. To be fair to myself, it does look very different at night. I had to wonder at the value of any particular company advertising there. There’s just so much neon that absolutely nothing stood out, although I was continually dazzled by the lights, the constant flow of pedestrians and traffic and the noise.

I’ve only really scratched the surface of what I saw on my first visit to New York, yet I only scratched the surface of what there is to see in New York. I liked the place much more than I thought I would. I’m sure I’ll be back.

Changes

This year has seen a lot of changes for me already and another one is in the process of happening right now. A few weeks ago I resigned from my job and in a few more weeks I will be starting a new one.

I don’t change jobs every year like some people I know, in fact this is the first time for exactly five years. There are a lot of parallels too. I resigned from SAIC on the 14th July 2001 and started at Anvil on the Tuesday after the August bank holiday. Similarly, I handed in my notice on the 14th July 2006 and will start at Aleri on the day after the bank holiday. They are also both small software companies that specialise in products for investment banks. I will even have pretty much the same job title.

But the reasons for moving are very different this time. I couldn’t wait to get out of SAIC. The hiring manager hadn’t been entirely honest about the role and then refused to do anything to rectify the situation once I pointed this out after I’d been hired. Two layers of management above him stuck their fingers in their ears and sang “La la la” when presented them with the problem, not the kind of behaviour you’d expect for a company with an ethical policy. Anvil was my escape and, in my mind at the time, was supposed to be just a short-term fix to that problem. I never imagined staying there for nearly five years. That’s a testament to the culture and people there.

Anvil is in a better shape now than it has been for as long as I’ve known about it, however for my own personal career advancement it became clear that I needed to move on. After looking for alternatives on and off for the best part of a year I came across Aleri, interviewed and ultimately accepted their offer.

It’s inevitable that after so long in one job that I’m a little nervous, however I think there’s a lot of potential there and I’m excited about the possibilities.

Vietnam, 2005

It’s easy to get the wrong impression of Vietnam. Switch on the TV and you find films showing vast areas of land being napalmed. Switch on the radio and you hear Paul Hardcastle. Even in books you see self-immolating monks.

Ho Chi Minh's Mausoleum, Hanoi, Vietnam

But the place is not all about the Vietnam War (or the American war as they call it). In fact there was little sign of it in the parts that I saw. Insead you see a beautiful, enthusiastic country that’s full of contradictions. You see successful small businesses, you learn that health-care and education is paid-for yet you know the government is officially Communist.

Modern Vietnam really started with Ho Chi Minh. His mausileam was near the top of the list of places to visit on our first full day on the tour. Perhaps as you’d expect, it’s not very much like the rest of Hanoi. While the other streets are busy, crowded and chaotic — I was reminded of Kathmandu — with motor-bikes zipping in and out of pedestrians and other traffic in a suicidal manner, Ho Chi Minh’s resting place is expansive, clean and quiet.

At the centre of Hanoi is Hoan Kiem Lake which is a tranquil contrast to the buzzing mopeds heard through the rest of the city. Both locals and tourists hang out around here, and only a few locals try to sell you things! Why, when they see you writing post-cards or reading the Lonely Planet guide, do they try to sell you exactly the same thing? Is one copy of a travel guide not sufficient?

Trip in Ha Long Bay, Vietnam

Our time in Hanoi quickly comes to an end. We leave on a (delayed) train to Ha Long City, the disembarkation point for many trips around Ha Long Bay.

Our hotel overlooks the bay, so we are distressed the next morning when we open the curtains and can’t see anything past the road that separates us from the water. The fog is amazingly dense and I nearly decide not to head down for breakfast. What’s the point?

The fog lifts slightly over breakfast but I’m still not keen to set off.

Boys navigate down the Perfumed River, Hué, Vietnam

We board the boat almost in silence. Not only is the fog deadening the sound from the nearby town, but we’re all subdued imagining a tragically disappointing day. We were, however, wrong. While the boat sets off, the sun rises and starts to burn away the fog.

The first few glances of the limestone pillars that make up the UN-designated Heritage Site are atmospherically partially shrowded in mist. As the day progresses, the sky gets clearer and we see the bay in its full glory. We’re all glad we got up at the crack of dawn.

It’s mainly a day of travelling next as we first head back to Hanoi and them take the night train down to Hué. Hué is one of the highlights of the trip, featuring a lazy trip down the Perfume River (piloted somewhat worryingly by these boys!) and the Old Citadel. You can find plenty more about these famous sighs in guide-books so I won’t go into any detail here.

Sleeping Market trader, Hué, Vietnam

Local markets are always fascinating places, and the one in Hué is no exception. It’s possible to buy almost anything, but we mostly get offered T-shirts and baseball caps all, no doubt, at bargain prices. I am drawn to the fruit stalls. As a photographer I like the bright colours, shapes and textures. But this time I see a person, a sleeping stall-holder. I think it’s an amusing scene and decide to take a picture. Our sleeper dozes away but a nearby trader notices, smiles at me and laughs so loudly that my model stirs from sleep. She first glances at the source of the noise and then, following the now pointing finger, at me. Unconcerned, her hat returns over her face and she falls back asleep.

It’s seemingly a rushed trip as we quickly head further south to Hoi An, perhaps the most charming and pretty of the towns we stayed in on the whole trip.

My Son, Vietnam

The next day the tour group splits into two. An optional exchursion to see My Lai, the site of a war attrocity, is very popular and sees everyone but me head there and ignore My Son. My Son is a temple complex built by the same people who constructed Ankor Wat. It’s much smaller and less intact but since I wasn’t heading out to Cambodia after the Vietnam section of the tour I didn’t want to miss it.

The one thing I wish I could have missed was the rain. Everyone got drenched. While it was quite amusing to see the contrast between the anchient temples and the bright, modern umbrella’s, I would have preferred dry conditions. And so did my camera which stopped working for a worryingly long time shortly after leaving.

Continuing our journey south we stop in Nha Trang. From here we head up into the hills. Our destination is a crocodile farm and an impressive waterfall. Luckily we find something even more interesting en route.

Hilltribe Children, Vietnam

We stop near a “Hilltribe” village where a number of local kids are congregating. They obviously don’t see too many tourists around these parts as they are both curious and nervous of us. In this remote area they even speak their own language, making the (very) little Vietnamese I’ve learned no use here.

The tour finished in Ho Chi Minh City, or Saigon as it is still called by many people. (One explaination I heard was that the central part was still officially called Saigon but not everyone agreed.) Arguably this would have been an easier start to the trip than Hanoi. It has a much more Western feel to it and even has a few familiar franchised fast-food outlets, which I only then realised I’d not seen anywhere else.

Inside Notre Dame Cathedral, Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City), Vietnam

With the Western sheen it also takes an undesirable trait that you find in many new cities such as Abu Dhabi and Charlotte: no character. There’s nothing wrong with the place as such but, compared with the rest of Vietnam, it’s pretty dull. I did, however, like some of the decorations in Notre Dame Cathedral. The pictured neon-lit Mary statues left me speechless.

One other place of note is the War Museum. It is one of the few places that we saw that has any reference to the American War. Back home in Britain we normally see the US side of the story so it was fascinating to see it from another perspective.

It’s a shame I that I wasn’t so keen on Saigon as it gave a weak ending to an otherwise fascinating trip to South East Asia.

The mince pie and the ewok

What does a two year old mince pie and an ewok have in common? The answer, it turns out, is “wedding cake.”

Huh?

Let me explain.

Wedding cakes have a bit of a history for us. Americans tend not to be very keen on the traditional British fruit cake, which was a bit of a problem since I got married to a Californian in New York! Even the hotel concierge could only track down a fruit flan which is not what I’d call traditional. In the end we had to make do with less conventional but still delicious “normal” deserts.

We didn’t think much more about it until a month later when we were in California for B’s best friends wedding. She had a big wedding, including nearly two hundred guests. I’m not sure if this is normal, but they had two cakes. One, from the groomsmen I think, was shaped like a burger. The other was more like what most people would imagine at the suggestion of a wedding cake. Except for one small detail. Hiding underneath the top layer, behind some marzipan foliage, was a tiny ewok. The groom is a serious Star Wars fan, and the theme music at the end of the ceremony was not enough to keep him happy!

But back to the fruit cake saga. For our party, my sister-in-law wanted to make one for us but, unfortunately, started getting together the ingredients a bit too late. If you’ve every tried to make one you’ll realise that it takes at least a few days. Kudos for the attempt, though!

My father-in-law wasn’t going to allow the short time-frame to thwart his attempt. The cunning use of long forgotten boxes in dark cupboards was to (nearly) save the day.

Iced mince pieA couple of years ago B brought a Harrods Mince Pie back home for Christmas. It had been placed in a cupboard, then in storage while the kitchen was remodelled and then back in a dusty corner. Now was its time. He unboxed it and, using tinned frosting (icing), transformed it into… well — let’s be honest here — an iced mince pie. Most people refused even to try it, but the few brave souls who did said that it wasn’t as bad as it looked. A valient effort.

Fast-forward a couple more months. It’s now two weeks before our UK wedding reception, a cruise down the Thames, and we’ve just started thinking about cakes. I wonder if my mum would make one for us. I don’t like to ask. It’s quite hard work to make one and then she’d have to carry it two hundred miles south on the day.

Eventually I decide to call and ask.

After some small talk I edge up to the subject. “Would you mind… um… you know…” Well, it was something like that. In fact, she wasn’t going to say anything, wanted it to be a surprise, but she had put one in the oven only thirty minutes previously!

So on the day we finally got a proper, British wedding cake. Everyone was very appreciative. A few people asked if my mum had really made it as it looked so professional!

Thanks mum!

Thames Cruise

This last weekend we hosted our wedding reception. Actually, it’s probably our second or third depending on how you count it. But we’re not keeping track as we fully intend to celebrate for as long as we can get away with it…

Rather than book a hall and get people to sit next to almost total strangers for a couple of hours, we decided to hire a boat and cruise down the Thames for a few hours. In the end thirty-two guests turned up in the rain to help us celebrate. We sailed west towards Westminster, then east as far as Greenwhich and back to Temple.

I think a good time was had by all. This was certainly helped by my mums great wedding cake.

One of the disadvantages of hosting an event is that it’s difficult to get behind a camera. I only have a few photographs and none are as good as those you’ll find on B’s blog. Check out the pictures of our cruise.

Thanks again to all the people that came along. It was a special day for both of us.