You know it’s going to be a great evening when you walk into a room that’s glittering with more glassware than a Waterford Crystal showroom. This was the scene this week at Hispania, an elegant, two-story Spanish bar and restaurant just a short stumble from Bank tube station in London’s financial district.
Large round linen-draped tables were topped by a continuous ring of wineglasses—at least five per place-setting—as if the hosts expected a tangle of parched octopuses to rock up, eagerly grasping a glass with each tentacle. In fact, the group that actually filtered through Hispania’s doors–a gaggle of guzzling journos, me among them–would prove a far graver threat to the wine stocks before the night was done.
But a liberal appreciation of the libations was only to be expected, as this was a celebration, a christening for a very special new arrival. Tonight, the just-launched 2015 Vina Pomal Compromiso classic Rioja would be feted alongside a host of its brethren wines at a five-course feast prepared by Michelin starred chefs Mario Sandoval and Marcos Moran. (more…)
With a warm headwind whipping at my pigtails and my legs pumping furiously upon a pair of bike pedals, I’m ten years old again, experiencing the exhilarating thrill of freedom that only a set of wheels can bestow. But instead of cycling around the civilized suburbs as I did in those bygone days of innocence, I’m winding through the wilds of Southern Catalunya in Spain.
Miles of olive groves, green valleys sculpted by terraced fields, and narrow passes gouged from red rock canyons sweep by beneath a blazing blue sky. Mind adrift, I lose myself in the Zen of forward momentum, serenaded by the sound of…well, nothing, save the smooth “whoosh” of tire spokes—and, if I’m honest, my increasingly labored breathing as I embark on a slow uphill ascent.
At least I can be reassured that I’m burning some of the thousands of calories I’ve been consuming on my cycling tour of this resolutely resilient region of Spain, which maintains its own language, culture and cuisine.
With its silky beaches, chic shops, luxury marinas, and eclectic dining scene, Calvia is a favourite European escape. Discover the top ten attractions of this sun-soaked municipality on the southwestern coast of Mallorca, one of the hottest hideaways in Spain’s Balearic Islands.
Talk about star power. World-renowned theoretical physicist Stephen Hawking and Brian May of Queen, who holds the rare distinction of being both a rocker and an astrophysicist, are among the celebrities throwing their weight behind Starmus III, a unique Tenerife-based festival devoted to science, art and music.
The pair appeared at London’s Royal Astronomical Society, alongside the Tenerife Island Government’s President Carlos Alonso and festival founder, astrophysicist Garik Israelian, to promote the next Starmus. It will be held on June 27-July 2, 2016, encompassing a stargazing party at Tenerife’s Teide National Park, a round-table discussion at the GTC Roque de los Muchachos Observatory Dome on La Palma, an astrophotography competition and a live concert.
I’m sitting beside a pool in the Bay of Biscay, sipping a gin and tonic as a Thai band plays a vigorous rendition of Van Halen’s “Jump.” A life-sized Barbie in a black-fringed thong bikini has just lowered herself into the water, no doubt inducing heart palpitations and several cases of whiplash among the men relaxing on the Lido Deck loungers around me.
That might seem like sufficient excitement for one afternoon, but all eyes are directed upwards when a crimson-coloured helicopter appears overhead, dangling two black-clad men from cables. For a moment, I wonder whether our ship—Crystal Cruises’ Crystal Serenity—is being commandeered by airborne pirates. But no, these two naval ninjas are deposited aboard the bridge to navigate our vessel up-river to Bordeaux.
If anyone feared that our days at sea might be, well, a bit too serene, we’ve just discovered that shipboard life is full of the unexpected. Perhaps they should consider rechristening the boat the Crystal Surprise. (more…)
Barcelona – Gripping a pair of long, lethal-looking tweezers, chef Tristan Lopez is hunched over a plate of pale anchovies, painstakingly applying tiny silver-powder-coated potato paper “scales” to each slender sliver. Beside him, waiter Manel Vehi Mena dispenses “liquid olives”—just one at a time, presented on its own plate. He serves them with such reverence that I sense, even before tasting star chef Albert Adria’s invention, that they aren’t snacks to be absent-mindedly gobbled, but miraculously soft, melt-in-the-mouth bursts of flavour that deserve to be savoured.
Watching the action at prep stations around the restaurant is all part of the “show” at Tickets. One of Barcelona’s most revolutionary tapas bars, it’s the brainchild of Adria’s brother Ferran, head chef at Spain’s legendary El Bulli. With that three-Michelin-starred establishment having closed in 2011, tastemakers turned their attention to the brothers’ Barcelona venture, where reservations are among the hottest tickets in town.
In one of my earlier posts, I wrote about a few “essentials” I never travel without, but there was one very personal item (yes, even more personal than the nose hair trimmer) that I didn’t mention—a delicate sliver of a silver charm.
On one side, it bears my name. (“Amy,” that is. “Laughinghouse,” as you might imagine, would be a bit unwieldy). The other side is embossed with three hieroglyphics which supposedly signify my name’s meaning. It’s elegant, unusual, and most importantly to me, a gift from my sister, Kimberly.
Kim passed away on June 10, 2009, but wearing that pendant, hooked around my neck on a slender chain, I felt that she was there, seeing the world with me.
I could imagine her wicked cackle of a laugh, the expressive arc of her eyebrows, which communicated her thoughts like semaphores, and the hilarious stories that she could have woven from even the most commonplace event.
So when I happened to notice the chain dangling, unhooked and bereft of its charm while wandering around the tangled maze of Barcelona’s Barri Gotic quarter one day, I felt the weight of a loss much greater than the actual mass of that feather-light talisman. (more…)