A tale of four breakfasts

IThe annual pilgrimage to the Eurovision Song Contest has begun. It all started on a Wednesday afternoon at the Jacksons International airport in Port Moresby. And such an auspicious start it was. No sooner had I checked in for the first of three flights did the dulcet tones of the fire evacuation alarm ring throughout the terminal. One aborted evacuation attempt was followed by a second round of alarms and assurances from security that there was no fire. So I was on my way.

Upon arrival in Brisneyland I was met with a four hour transit time. Nothing a little trip to the Emirates lounge could not fix. I spent those four hours undertaking a demographic analysis of the mid week European traveller (retiree - and not the under 40 'I took a VR' kind of retiree, more their parents, or even grandparents of those folk...) and try to convince my Dad on the phone that there were ten people in the Ten Tenors (apparently the name doesn't give that away). I saved some time to try the culinary offerings (the smoked salmon cakes got a gold star - I went back for seconds).

Soon, I was settled in on board for the 14 hour trek to Dubai.

My loyal readers would know that I have learnt the hard way previously that Emirates concept of mild spice and my idea of mild spice in food are worlds apart. Turns out I didn't really learn anything last time. See that red soup on my tray below? Liquid lava. I was breathing more fire than one of Daenerys' dragons whilst I waited for my flight attendant to come and take the devil soup away. 

After cooling off the inside of my mouth with barramundi, lemon tart, a movie (The Big Short), and a drink at the inflight bar with a fellow pilgrim, it was time for some sleep (after all, it was almost 2am in Moresby by this point). There was just one obstacle. 15F. After snoring through take off and meal service, he had chosen the point where every other passenger in the cabin wanted to sleep as his opportunity to complain loudly about the inflight entertainment system to his travelling companion over the aisle. 

At this point I recalled the wise pre-take off words of Sally-Anne. Sal had suggested I try out the Emirates sleep cycle radio channel (she described it as '...all weird tinkly bells and electronic whales. Like the cult MindHead from Bowfinger' - how could you not want to try that, even without 15F?). Well, it turns out electronic whales are no match for an Australian with an axe to grind about the inflight entertainment system. So I tried a more direct approach. I told him to shut up. Slept like a baby for five hours after that. 

Before I knew it they were waking us up for first breakfast (twice baked soufflé on an aeroplane, who knew it was possible!) and we were in Dubai. I hit the lounge all over again, and given it was only 6am, and I hadn't eaten for a whole two hours, I went for a second breakfast.

Soon, I was on my way again for flight number three. After a debacle of a boarding process (hell hath no fury like a first class passenger told to sit and wait whilst they load the economy class passengers on the bus to the plane first as it turns out) we drove to the far reaches of DBX to find our aircraft. We drove so far I swear we were halfway to Switzerland before we boarded. Surely this would cut flying time? Did I accidentally sign up for a bus transfer to Geneva? Can you see the terminal in a desert far, far away?

In a surprise twist, the flight was delayed almost an hour (who knew it would be Emirates and NOT Air Niugini making me late to get somewhere?) when the cargo got stuck being loaded. Yes, stuck. Part of me was entertained watching it from my window seat. We got it loaded eventually and before I knew it we were in the air and third breakfast was being served (seriously). The movie Spoltlight and about 5 episodes of iZombie later and we were in Geneva. The view as we flew into Geneva was amazing. A sea of snow peaked mountains poking through the clouds...

I got off the plane, headed to my hotel, and was excited about getting out and about and doing something. It was an amazing day - sunshine, clear skies. What should I do?!?! Nothing. Because NOTHING is what was open. Having spent the last 7 years worth of months of May in Europe you would think I'd have worked out there are a LOT of public holidays in Europe in May. And guess what? Arrival day was one in Switzerland. I decided to do what every man and his dog (literally) was doing. I went for a walk around the lake. It was gridlock.

I learnt two things on this walk. Firstly, everyone in Switzerland has a dog that looks like something Paris Hilton would have owned in 2002, and secondly, the young men of Geneva are modelling their hairstyles on Dolph Lundgen circa Rocky IV (the youngsters might need to google that).

I proudly recalled enough French to order a speccolous gelato and check out the Jet d'Eau. The latter being a fancy French name for what Canberrans would call the Captain Cook Jet.

Apparently no trip to Geneva is complete until you have seen the two main tourist attractions - the Jet and the flower clock, and I knocked them both off on day 1.

I had grand plans of just hanging out in my hotel room for a few hours waiting for a suitable dinner time. Rookie mistake though, I laid on the bed. That was 6:30pm. Next thing I knew it was 1am and there I was, fully clothed, all the lights on, CNN blaring and my phone clutched in my hand mid-candy crush level attempt. Jet lag -1, Belinda - 0. 

The next morning I decided to try out the Swiss interpretation of an Eggs Benny. Something must have been lost in translation because this was an Eggs Booby.

Time to head out from the hotel in search of more coffee. Now for the record, I am staying at a very nice hotel in a good part of town. Yet I walked past three strip clubs between my hotel and the nearest coffee place. Guess we know what those UN types do with their travel allowance. On second thought, the Eggs Booby makes more sense in context...

Google told me to go check out a church tower, which when climbed gave you the best view of Geneva. They left out the fact that the tiny spiral staircase was terrifying, but I made it to the top and the view was close to worth it.

Once back at the bottom I discovered there was an archaeological site under the church, showing the excavations of the previous incarnations of the church from the 3rd century to the 12th. 

There was lots of interesting commentary about the way that construction evolved (the work got shoddier over time), the creation of the earliest heating systems in Geneva, and the evolution of baptism facilities over the centuries (surprisingly interesting). They had also built a number of wells, which tourists were filling with coins and drinking straws. Anyone with any insight on the latter, let me know.

Because it it Europe you have to go IN the church (no trip to Europe is complete without a church or 73). This is what it looks like in its current incarnation.

The other must do in any European city is to find the food hall at the cities fanciest department store. I discovered some inspiration to change my preferred champagne...something about the bottle.

I headed off to the marathon village in the afternoon to collect my bib for Sunday.

Before you ask, no, I am not crazy enough to run a full marathon immediately before Eurovision week. I am merely doing the semi marathon (the cute French term for a half marathon). Having said that I still may not be able to walk come Monday. What was I thinking? 

The finish line is already up. Fingers cross the weather on Sunday morning is as lovely as it was today.

Post apocolyptic Australian fine dining

The good folks from Noma in Denmark decided to move the (former) number 1 restaurant in the world to Sydney for a few months this year. We in Australia could feel special about this - but in reality, I suspect this was just an elaborate ruse for a whole group of Danish chefs to avoid a Copenhagen winter and learn to surf. The limited time (10 week) restaurant sold out it's entire run in just a measly four minutes.

Thanks to a willing co-worker (okay, I'm his boss, he didn't have a choice) we hit up the website on a number of phones to try to get a booking (after the office internet chose that moment to die) and managed to get one phone through on the booking system in that elusive four minute window. That was October. Five months later, I got to have lunch.

The menu was quite different to the previous two meals I've had in Denmark in 2013 and again in 2014 . Not a surprise given their penchant for foraging ingredients in the local area. 

Even the wines were local - and for us very local. We were particularly intrigued by the sparkling wine made in Belconnen. Cook to be exact. Who in Cook is whipping up sparkling wine in their backyard?

The decor in the restaurant was similar to Copenhagen, with an Aussie twist. The animal skins over the backs of the chairs were wallaby, and the centerpieces were distinctly Australia. At least we were not asked to eat the centerpiece this time (though Jason tried...).

After the aptly named "snakebite" aperitif, it was time to get into the food. The first dish was unripe macadamia nuts with spanner crab. Turns out Tracey is NOT allergic to macadamias and the epipen was a (thankfully) superfluous guest at our table.

Next up was wild seasonal berries flavored with gubinge.

This was followed by desert oak wattleseed with saltbrush. Or to quote Riin - "I feel like a posh koala (eating this)".

Next up was a seafood platter - complete with crocodile fat. There may have been some issues with identifying what type of animal a croc is. Okay, so I may have accidentally called them a mammal, and then corrected myself and said amphibian. REPTILE BELINDA. They are a reptile...

Someone apparently got to forage snow crab from half a kilometer depths on the WA coast, and these were served up with cured egg yolk and fermented kangaroo. Yes, fermented kangaroo.

Next up they decided to give us some quintessential Australian fare. A pie. A pie made from dried scallops and nasturtium flowers and a seaweed pastry. The fudge like pie filling was frozen. And yes, we ate the flowers too. Rather peppery.

The next course was essentially a bush tucker taco. The ingredient list included burnt milk and magpie goose. The filling was a form of lobster.

We then moved on to sea urchin with dried tomatoes and pepper berries. Sea urchin looks like a tongue up close. Do you have any idea how hard it is to eat something that looks like a tongue?

In yet another homage to their Australian surroundings, the next course was an abalone schnitzel with bush condiments. Or an "abby schnitty" as we informed our waiter. Some of the seaweed acted like popping candy in your mouth. Riin took a disturbing level of interest in the knife that came with this dish.

This. Was. Amazing.

We then moved on to dessert. First up was a fruit course - including whiskey soaked pineapple and the most Queensland mangoes ever - covered in green ants (it is not a trip to Noma unless they make you eat ants).

A few other fruits were added. We were warned that the "toothpicks" would numb your mouth if chewed, but despite Jason and Riin's best efforts there was no evidence that dentists could use this in lieu of anesthetic.

The next round of dessert was my fav of the sweet dishes. The Noma version of a lammington. Aerated rum ice cream. It was unbelievably light and easy to eat. Riin described this as "the best air I have ever eaten".

The second dessert was the "Baytime" - an ice cream made from peanut milk and freekah (no, that is not chocolate on the outside - but roasted freekah). The stick was lemon myrtle.

There was even a surprise filling (which Jason mistook for hummus...though in his defense he had had a few alcoholic beverages at this point).

Last, but not least, was their specialty coffee (or tea if you are Tracey) and bonbons.

A quote from Jason aptly summarises the experience - "this is what fine dining would look like in a post apocalyptic Australia".

The Great Eggs Benny-a-thon

So, today I was checking out the blog with a view to refreshing it a little before this year's Eurovision extravaganza, only to find that I never bothered to finish the report from the last trip. I never did get around to telling you about Miami, Anaheim or Vegas. In my defence I was more concerned in Miami with not melting to death, and in Anaheim and Vegas I was too tired to operate the iPad (you'll see) so it is no surprise that it never happened.

My mid week sojourn to Miami was spent at South Beach.

This place is essentially the Gold Coast, but with Maseratis. No idea how all these amazing cars are in such good condition, people drive CRAZY in Miami. I even got to see some serious road rage - a guy actually jumped out of his car, got a crow bar from the boot and went to attack another driver - thankfully he got back in his car and sped off without hurting the other guy when all of us on the medium strip started screaming at him that we had already called 911 and police sirens could be heard. I seriously thought my afternoon was going to involve filling in police reports.

The variety of cars along the beach strip was fairly diverse.

 I was about the only person wearing an actual top (apparently you just stroll around in a bikini top and short shorts) and one of the few that were still sober at noon on a Tuesday. Everywhere you went people were sitting at beach side cafes drinking cocktails bigger than your head (even at breakfast). Whilst the level of bikinis in Sephora was a shock to the system, there were some parts of town where it was more acceptable to go shirtless. Like Muscle Beach.

Whilst South Beach was very much for the blue rinse set right until the grand days of Miami Vice, today it is party central. SoBe (as the cool kids call it) is these days a heritage listed area, with all of the Art Deco buildings of the 1920s beautifully preserved. Even Senor Frog's comes with a classier building than it deserves.

Turns out SoBe is home to the third most photographed home in the USA. For those playing along at home, first place goes to the White House and second to Graceland. Third goes to this house.

This was the home of Gianni Versace. The only man to defy the heritage listings. There was a lovely art deco hotel to the left of this house, but Gianni wanted a pool. Mysteriously after he made a very large donation to the preservation society the house where he wanted his pool to go seemed to have it's heritage listing removed and could be demolished. How lucky was that? It was on the front steps of this house in 1997 where Gianno was murdered by a stalker who had reportedly been following his morning routine of getting an espresso and Italian newspaper at a local cafe for weeks. Today it is the most expensive hotel in SoBe (upwards of US$3,000 a night) and a pricey restaurant.

One of the highlights of my trip to SoBe was a culinary walking tour. The Cuban and Colombian influences in Miami make it an amazingly tasty destination. We were treated to churros as a starter.

This was followed by a tasty array of empanadas from a variety of South American countries along with some lessons in how to identify one from Argentina from one from Colombia. For me the Colombian variety was a winner. We even got to try it with a drink that I can only describe as the Colombian equivalent of the shandy - creaming soda and beer.

We stopped off at Gloria Estefan's restaurant on SoBe, where the food is all traditional Cuban fare. This dish may not look the prettiest, but it may be one of the tastiest things I have ever eaten.

Inside the restaurant there was even a chandelier that was made from actual instruments played by Latin music stars. Every one of these items has been played on stage - including by the likes of Ricky Martin, Shakira and Gloria herself (cheese grater I get, but who plays a pineapple?).

 We continued walking and made it to one of the most famous streets in SoBe.

This street played a major role in Mami Vice. The buildings are pink because the producers begged everyone to let them paint them - and nobody ever bothered to change it back to it's original all white facade. This street also happens to be home to Miami's best gelato. The gelato is displayed in the store in a rotating ice cream spaceship. That makes it tastier I'm sure.

I headed into town one night (against my brother's wishes) to watch the Heat play the Lakers. The game included much fanfare to celebrate Veterans Day.

Before long it was time to leave the half dressed beautiful people and rappers (not that I knew any of the rappers they kept putting on the big screen at the Heat/Laker game) and head back west. Turns out in America one can get airport eggs benny. I'm not convinced on having it with crispy chicken or steak... (I opted for the Veggie).

Before too long I was back in California with the Mouse. This time to run the runDisney Avengers Super Heroes weekend. First up on Friday morning was the Super Hero 5k. I wore a cape. Does it getting any cooler than running through Disneyland wearing a cape? This was taken in the new Radiator Springs area in Cars Land. I made it to corral A! Which meant no crowds for the run.

Next up on Saturday was the Captain America 10K. Never in my life have I seen so many people dressed as Captain America. You kinda had to join in. The one thing everyone that runs a runDisney race wants is the "castle photo". I got mine on the Saturday morning.

I decided to celebrate the end of this race with some more eggs benny. Just because. This is eggs benny Disneyland style. I still don't understand the grapes...

Sunday was a big day. I was up (for the third day in a row) at 4am and freezing my butt off at the start line area. The day before had sadly been the Paris terrorist attacks, so we were all instructed to arrive super early as the level of security was increased. It was cold, and with a half marathon ahead of me (and then some) I opted to turf the costume and run in something comfy instead. The race took us through the streets of Anaheim - including around the diamond at Angels stadium. Was a little uncomfortable at being one of 15,000 people traipsing through the home of a large number of homeless Californians at one point. This was taken of me just meters from the finish line. That look on my face can be translated as "what the f&!$ was I thinking, I still have another race to run today!".

The medal haul from the Avengers weekend was awesome. I got an added medal for completing the Infinity Gauntlet Challenge - which was running the 10K and the Half back to back.

Yeah, you read that right, I still had ANOTHER race that day. Once over the finish line, and clutching all the food goodies Disney give you, it was back to the hotel for a shower and to grab my stuff and head to the airport for my flight to Vegas. I'm told the unofficial name for this was "Avenge the Strip". You run the Avengers half marathon that morning in California, then you catch the lunchtime flight to Vegas and that afternoon you run one of the Rock n Roll Las Vegas races down the Strip.

Almost everyone on the flight was wearing a race shirt from the Avengers weekend and those that were not were very confused about our invasion. We were boarded, and ready to go when the pilot announced that bad weather had hit Veags and we were not allowed to take off. So, we spent an hour sitting on the tarmac, listening to the comic styling of the rather amusing cabin crew and trying not to look too nervous at missing the starters horn. Eventually we were cleared for take off and made it to Vegas around 3pm (over an hour late). The roads had all been closed by the time we landed, so it was another race against time to get to the hotel to drop bags, get changed and get to the start. I ended up having to RUN to the start line (whats another mile and a bit at this point?) but got there with minutes to spare and was still pinning my bib on when the race started. I hadn't had a chance to find the lovely Melissa who was somewhere in the crowd - but thankfully fate united us at the first drink station.

We were all so busy on the plane worrying about getting to Vegas, none of us thought through what the bad weather meant for the race itself. The first half was okay, but when we turned back down the Strip to run into the wind was when the real challenge began. Add to that it had started to rain and I think the only thing that stopped me from walking my second race of the day was the desire to get to the finish line and a hot shower as quickly as I could. Having Melissa there to chat to and take my mind off the horrid weather was also a relief.

Post race we limped our way to dinner to celebrate still being alive and hit up Buddy Valestro's Italian restaurant. Back in Orlando Buddy had told me to order his grandmother's lasagna. This was possibly the largest single serving of lasagna I have ever clapped eyes on. Even with Melissa's help I didn't even get close to finishing this.

Come morning I was starving, though surprisingly mobile for someone who ran in excess of 32kms the day before. What better way to start the day than to have the tasting platter of eggs benny at the hotel. There was pork belly eggs benny, and even an eggs benny served on a crab cake!

I made a valiant attempt to go shopping, but it was pretty clear I was not yet limber enough to try on clothes at the mall, so the credit car got a day off. I worked out that in the space of 9 days I ran 57kms (not counting the extra mile run to the start line in Vegas). It was of course supposed to be higher, but for the issues we had the weekend before in Orlando with the race being cut short. I even got to take home 7 new medals for my trouble.

There was just one more morning left at this point. Also known as one more chance to have some eggs benny. This time I opted for room service style so that I could enjoy the view from my room a little longer.

By nightfall I had started the three flight marathon from Las Vegas back to Port Moresby. All flights to Vegas should be after dark - how else do you get to enjoy this amazing view.