shaunism

Sunday, 18 October 2015

[The Life of Shaun #516] The road to Pyongyang

Towards the beginning of this year, amidst the eMail chatter that Lottie, Simon, Kimb'uh and I engage in during the workweek, Lottie (who else?) asked if anyone would be interested in going to North Korea. I've been wanting to go for years, so chimed in immediately that I would; Simon and Kimb'uh were decidedly silent. So after planning an itinerary with Berlin-based Pyongyang Travel, securing North Korean and Chinese visas, and coordinating flights on SAS, Lottie and I headed off together to the Middle Kingdom.

We decided we wanted to enter North Korea by train, so our first stop was an overnight stay in Beijing. Lottie and I were both there in 2007 as part of a trip with Cass. I did not like Beijing then, and I do not like it now. There are many individual stunning architectural triumphs, but the city as a whole is thoroughly uninviting. It's sprawling, polluted, unfriendly, aggressive, malodorous and generally unpleasant. It's everything I do not like in a city.

Lottie found us a charming place in a hutong (classic low-rise neighbourhood, now mostly razed in central Beijing) just North of the Forbidden City, which was great, but this meant no concierge and negotiating with the city on our own, which was without fail unagreeable. If I ever end up in Beijing again I will do what I usually do not: I will stay in an upscale Western hotel and have a driver ferry me between the hotel and whichever architecture is on my itinerary. But I really hope it never comes to that.

Our home in Beijing.

The streets of our hutong.

Dancing fountains framing Chairman Mao in Tiananmen Square.

Looking through the pea-soup smog towards Mao's mausoleum.

Tasty treats on offer.

The next day we collected our train tickets at a hotel near the main railway station and battled our way through the security apparatus and crowds to the bar near our platform, before joining the other tourists, Chinese travellers, and few North Koreans transporting HDTVs and other goods on train K27. The route takes a full 24 hours through Manchuria and the Korean peninsula, so we were assigned a sleeper cabin, which we shared with two German girls. The majority of passengers depart in China, and most of the railway cars are detached at Dandong, the last stop in China - only two carriages carry on into North Korea.

It was a great way to start off into the unknown; all the Westerners were equally giddy with the prospect of the adventure in such an unknown country. This was to be an exceptionally busy tourist week, by North Korean standards. The government was set to celebrate the 70th anniversary of the founding of the Workers' Party of Korea on 10 October, and those of us inclined to visit a pariah state thought that would be an ideal time to visit. We spent a pleasant evening chatting on the train, first over wine in our cabin, and later in the dining cart all the way at the opposite end of the train.

When we awoke in the next morning we were at a standstill in Dandong, a "small" Chinese city of 2.5m on the Yalu River, separating China from North Korea. The train slowly shuffled around the station as they removed the cars that weren't continuing onward and they manoeuvred us onto the track heading to North Korea. We sat on the train for about two hours while Chinese officials came aboard and collected our passports and exit papers. Eventually our passports were returned and the train revved up, and we headed out of the station, across the Sino-Korean Friendship Bridge, and into the Hermit Kingdom.

Lottie at the bar in the station with our beer on the rocks.

Our chariot awaits!

Showcasing the luxurious digs for our journey.

Hanging out in the dining car.

Waiting in Dandong.

Midway across the Yalu River a second bridge comes to a stop; at its end, tourists congregate on a platform fit with telescopes to peer into North Korea.

The last sight before entering North Korea is the glimmering towers of Dandong.

Shaun H. Coley ~ Shadwell ~ Tower Hamlets ~ London E1 ~ UK ~ shaunism.blogspot.co.uk

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Monday, 21 September 2015

[The Life of Shaun #515] It's a date!

Sushil collected his relocation visa today!

It was a bit of a stressful weekend, as the office let us know last week that a decision had been taken, but we had to wait for it to be delivered from New Delhi to Mumbai to find out what the decision was. We weren't overly worried, but until it's in your hand, you can't help questioning if you sent in enough, or the right, documents. But it's sorted, and Sushil will be moving over on 15 October!

It's going to be a very busy month for me. This weekend, after a year in Kentish Town, Marco and I are moving back to Shadwell. Though there are some things I will miss about living here (namely the very unLondon impromptu visits proximity to Jan has engendered), the things I like about Kentish Town are occasional things, whereas the things I like about Shadwell are every day things: the view, the cheaper housing cost, the seven-minute commute - the dishwaser. And I can honestly say I miss Shadwell; Kentish Town is beautiful, bucolic and ever trendier, but I feel more at home in the urban grit of the East End.

A week after the move, I am off with my friend Lottie (who else?) to Beijing and North Korea. I get back on the 13th, and then two days later Sushil arrives. I just hope I will have managed to unpack by then...

Cheers, for the last time from North London,

Shaun

Shaun H. Coley ~ Kentish Town ~ Camden ~ London NW5 ~ UK ~ shaunism.blogspot.co.uk

Saturday, 18 July 2015

[The Life of Shaun #514] The Big Day

Wow, what an amazing day! In my mind, I had pictured a little bureaucratic necessity followed by a party, but it turned out to be so much more than that.

The wedding festivities started two weeks before, when Sushil came over for our pre-wedding-moon, and to finish getting everything sorted for the fourth. We had a quick two-night trip up to Edinburgh, to see a new UK city, and to visit my friend Tomek, who kept us well fed and wined.

Then it was back down to London to buy suits (Sushil's first!) and take care of the last bits and bobs. The first guest to arrive was my cousin Jodi, who came from Florida on Wednesday for her first trip outside North America. Thursday the New Yorkers started to make their presence known, then family and the continentals arrived on Friday, and finally Saturday, Fern, my friend from fifth grade, who left her husband and son in Texas for her first extra-North American adventure.

The ceremony was very intimate, just my family, plus best woman Mary and groom of honour Marco, at Camden Town Hall. The ceremony was brief, about 15 minutes in all, but very lovely. We chose from a set of texts the one that best captured our spirit, and it sat just right with all we were feeling that day. We didn't want a big ceremony, but it was perfect having my family, Mary and Marco there to share it with us.

Sushil pinning on my boutonnière

Sushil with his about-to-be-family-in-law, outside Camden Town Hall

Finally! My name in lights!

The wedding party

I will.

First a ring...

...then the signing...

...and it's done!

Then it was off in the searing London heat (no, seriously) to the Prospect of Whitby, a classic English pub from 1520 on the banks of the Thames in Wapping. It's one of my favourite spots in London, and the first place I ever took Sushil in London. Jan, Kimb'uh and Garrett had kindly arrived early to make sure everything was set up and to take the worry of any last-minute snags or questions off our shoulders, so we arrived into a budding party and white wine waiting for us. As the day went on, more and more people arrived and we were swept up in a whirlwind of well wishes and joy. The last of us stayed until closing time for the terrace level, when Sushil and I were whisked off to our surprise honeymoon suite at a luxury hotel in the City.

In retrospect it sounds silly, but I was really taken back by how much the day meant to me. Of course I was excited about starting a life with Sushil, but the ceremony and the reception, surrounded by so many friends and family, with so much goodwill and love all around us, it really was an amazing start to matrimony; it just felt like starting off on the right foot, if that makes any sense.

On the way to the reception at the Prospect of Whitby, with an icepack on my neck

The Coley kids

The Coley men

In a rainbow of amazinators

And a sea of Cassians

Mary really outdid herself as best woman with a surprise toast by her and my sister, Lara...

...and even Russ (and Rachel and Aunt Judy) made an appearance by telecast.

Cutting the wedding cakes (black forest for Sushil, Nutella cheesecake for me), handmade by my friend Ian. Basically what people have said about the day has been "I had a great time at your reception, oh my god that cheesecake was amazing!"

A half-Greek, an Indian, a Spaniard and an American walk into a bar...

Now Sushil has returned to Mumbai, and we're back to WhatsApp and Skype dates. We're pretty much done amalgamating all the materials for his settlement visa application, so we'll be filing that this week. It can take as short as three weeks to process, or as long as many months, but we're hoping Sushil will be back for Autumn. We'll be alright - we've done this many times before. But I'm very glad this will be the last time.

Cheers,

Shaun & Sushil

The happy couple :-)

Shaun H. Coley ~ Kentish Town ~ Camden ~ London NW5 ~ UK ~ shaunism.blogspot.co.uk

Saturday, 20 June 2015

[The Life of Shaun #513] Stagcastle

In the UK, "stag" and "hen" dos are hugely popular. The dos are weekends away with your best mates a couple of weeks before your Big Day, where you drink, wear fancy dress, go out and...actually, that's about it. The British are loathed in many popular stag/hen locations across the continent, as their town centres have become overrun with hordes of drunk men in tutus and women carrying around giant inflatable penises. Having fully embraced British culture, I was not about to miss out on this right of passage. So my best (wo)man, Mary Keany, packed up a few bags of accoutrements, eleven sashes, and put us on a train headed North.

No city has embraced the stag/hen do like Newcastle. Always known as a destination for a party, Newcastle, having lost all its other industry, has made a cottage industry out of them. When you leave the train station, enterprising Geordies are waiting outside to make sure you are sorted for party spots and stripper shows. Most every bar has signage promoting its stag/hen drink specials, and by night the city centre streets are filled with merry men and women decked out in their fancy dress finest, laughing, dancing, singing, vomiting, and getting the most out of their last hurrahs - it's the British at their finest!

There is a lot more story to Newcastle, of course, but that's for another visit. This was about all about the three Bs: booze, boys and bars.

Almost recovered,

Shaun