Travel Archives

Japan, Pt. 3

Some of Japan's billions of amazing textured details, modern and traditional. Will be on my way home tomorrow.

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Japan, Pt. 2

Up and down hill through thousands of torii prayer gates to the Shinto god Inari in Inari, Japan. Below: people lounge at sunset at the Sky Garden on top of the JR Kyoto Station; part of the vast Osaka skyline from behind lined glass; visitors to the Floating Garden Observatory in the Umeda Sky Building in Osaka are reflected in circular windows; School children segregate by gender to take snapshots at the Kinkaku-ji (the Golden Pavilion) temple in Kyoto.

The second half of the trip and Kyoto has been fantastic. Our hotel, Hotel Granzia, located directly in Kyoto Station, is pretty much wicked awesome (if the means are available, Ferris would highly recommend it) - the public spaces are like Japan-cum-Star Wars (dozens of floors, escalators EVERYWHERE, sky bridges, public art, crazy lighting), the staff is incredibly helpful and gracious, and there is both a Cafe du Monde and Starbucks within 3 minutes from our door. Things are winding down though and I'm getting the itch to get back to my regularly scheduled life. Here are a few more...

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Japan

Sunday afternoon picnics at the Japanese garden section of the beautiful Shinjuku-Gyoen park; Afternoon showers bring out umbrellas in high end shopping district Ginza; Visions of the Rinnō-ji complex in Nikko.

After a morning spent with jaws dropped at the amazing Tsukiji fish market in Tokyo, we arrived to Kyoto this afternoon to begin the second half of our vacation in Japan. Not much to say except that its been great, except for the 13-hour time change which is still playing tricks on my body/mind. I'm looking forward to seeing Japan from a traditional standpoint down here in shrine/temple city, after becoming dizzy day after day in the hyper modern verticality of Tokyo. I'll be back in the office ready to work on June 20.

The fast and furious tuna auction at the Tsukiji central warehouse market in Tokyo; A foreman stands on a mountain of styrofoam containers during the morning rush at Tsukiji.

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Drunk

View from the top of Pride Mountain; Dad at left and Amy in the middle. Click on the image for a much larger version.

My sister put down her feet after last October's father and son romp through Napa Valley, and last week the three of us set out again and enjoyed a wonderful and ridiculously decadent tour of wine country. The trip was literally organized around a dinner at world acclaimed restaurant The French Laundry (after we secured reservations a couple of months ago), and that indulgent dozen-course dinner was basically a metaphor for our whole week.

In total we amassed 7 Michelin stars -- Laundry, La Toque, Bouchon, and Cyrus -- and many other corks, tours, and tastings at some of our favorite valley vineyards, including Schramsberg, V. Sattui, Joseph Phelps, Castello di Amorosa, Quintessa, Nickel & Nickel, and Pride Mountain. Amy, Dad, and I had a wonderful time, amazing wine, incredible food, saw and made friends, watched the sun set and rise, the mist roll in and evaporate, and many plates and glasses be filled and emptied. Here's hoping for next year!

Home to the oldest wine caves in Napa Valley, Schramberg's tour (their icon is the frog above) ends with a great tasting, below, of several of their sparklings. Another cave leads past new French oak barrels of Quintessa to a worker pressing the recent harvest. Far bottom, a Rutherford field lies below the morning fog after the harvest.

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Kentucky XO

Sketches from the Kentucky bourbon trail. View the full gallery of images in my archive.

The idea for the recent bourbon tour began after my return from an early summer trip to the UK this year, which left me wanting much more including 2 more weeks to do a proper scotch trip. Once I was back home I realized that we had our own native spirit in the U.S., and I could much more easily afford the time and cash to begin digging into what makes Kentucky bourbon country. And once I found out about the annual KY Bourbon Festival, the whole trip was settled upon, with a few dedicated (eg. freelance or student) friends to join me as well.

Up until about a dozen years ago, there still wasn't much of a market for bourbon, and that lack of serious demand seems to have kept the original handful of distilleries as pretty much the sole producers (good bourbon takes at least 5-7 years to get to the bottling stage). In the last 5 years however, the market for ultra premium bourbon (think Makers, Knob Creek, Booker's, Baker's, Woodford, Pappy Van Winkle, etc.) has begun to take off in a big way. Personally, I started drinking bourbon having already fallen in love with its big brother scotch in early college. The reason was pretty simple math... my favorite scotches are $60+, compared to ~$32 for the bourbon.

The world's capital of bourbon is Bardstown, KY, which lies right smack in the middle of south central Kentucky and on top of a multiple county footprint of limestone bedrock, which offers clean spring water to all of the major distilleries. Coupled with the abundance of corn (bourbon is by definition American whiskey which is made with at least 51% corn -- the good stuff is usually upwards of 70%) and the region's location on the Western migration of two centuries ago, you get a picture of why Kentucky is the ground zero of bourbon. Bardstown celebrates all of this with a festival (this year's was the 16th), but you could also make the case that the real annual celebration is the Kentucky Derby (and its ubiquitous mint juleps).

Driving up from Orlando, via Atlanta, Eric and I began our tour by cutting up through Chattanooga and then staying north on small highways (its a bit quicker to head West to Nashville and then over) until we reached Loretto, KY, and our first stop: the Maker's Mark distillery (the south edge of the limestone region). What is shocking upon landing in the MM visitor's parking lot is that its a very, very small operation. If you have ever visited your local liquor store and were frustrated to find them out of Maker's, the reason may be that like the other small batch distilleries, they are truly S.O.S. (slow, old, and stubborn). Maker's offers a free tour through not only the property and a mini-museum, but also directly through the production, where you can literally poke your fingers into the bubbling yeast during the fermentation process to get a taste of the distiller's beer.

Starting off with Maker's was a great choice (which we only made because of its location -- be careful that you remember each distillery is at least 20-30+ miles away from the next one) because its such a small, classic operation that puts you in the right frame of reference. Though Maker's has never been my favorite bourbon, it was one of our highlights on the trip. And after eating a bit of lunch we moved on and North to Bardstown itself to check out what the festival was all about.

Ultimately, and somewhat unfortunately, the festival itself is best treated as a state fair that happens to have a bourbon theme. Bardstown is a cool little spot, but the festival doesn't have nearly enough of the very stuff that brought you there. It took us more than a full hour wandering around at the festival to even find the only place where you can actually drink bourbon, the "spirit tent," which was hidden behind the music stage. And even in the spirit tent, more than half of the people are drinking cheap bear. After getting ID'd, and then purchasing a badge and tickets (1 ticket=1 dollar, which makes you wonder why you needed to waste the paper in the first place), you can enjoy one of 20 or so bourbons (I was intimately familiar with almost all of the choices) while staying inside the confines of the tent area (which is set-up on a little league baseball field). There is no food in the spirit tent, but you can bring it in from outside, and not nearly enough seating. Nonetheless the bourbon was delicious and the weather was beautiful as the sun set.

Ultimately the festival is charming but incomplete for the real bourbon fan. The whole idea of a celebratory trip down the liquor trail is to discover new inspiration and kinds you have never tried or (hopefully) even heard of before. At most of the distilleries we visited there was nothing there that you didn't already know about. There is no special secret Maker's Mark blend that you can buy in their gift shop. Nope, just the same stuff in different bottles and on t-shirts and chocolates. As cool as it is to see the operation, I wanted to learn just how much more there was out there to try in the bourbon universe. It was disappointing to learn that except one giant exception, the bourbon you find at a good liquor store is pretty much the extent of things.

Later that first night of the festival my buddy Travis met up with Eric and I and we retreated back to our hotel in Elizabethtown (I tossed a coin and decided to stay west of Bardstown instead of east - staying in Bardstown itself requires a hell of a lot more preparation by way of advance booking - but next trip I'll be staying east and closer to the action). After a few beers and other libations we finished off the night, and got going to the Jim Beam distillery in nearby Shepherdsville the next morning.

On approach its obvious just how much larger of an operation that Jim Beam is, belying its role as one of the world's largest producers. JB is home to several of my all-time favorites including the world's best selling ultra premium, Knob Creek. Visitors to the distillery can check out a museum and tasting room, including a pretty nice video of the 200+ year old distillery, and then can step outside for a self-guided tour that is pretty limited to staring at the outside of their multiple giant bonded warehouses. A nice place to visit, but again there was nothing there for the ardent fan outside of dozens of expensive t-shirts.

After another content several hours spent tromping around Bardstown (lunch at a great old fashioned drug store lunch counter), we made possibly the smartest decision of the entire trip and joined friends of friends Simon and Jeremy up for a tasting they had heard about at the Chapeze House, a historic house in central Bardstown. It was immediately apparent that we had struck gold and finally found the uncommon road. We sat down to study a bourbon tasting menu separated into 3 flights possibilities: premium, ultra premium, and vintage. Uhh, yes please! Finally! Stuff I had never heard of, let alone tasted. We ordered 4 flights (2 ultra, 2 vintage) of 5 bourbons per flight, for a total of 20 different, including several bourbons that were 20+ years old (extremely rare).

The five of us were presented with trays of every bourbon sitting on a note card explaining what it was (many bourbons + drinking gets very confusing, trust me). And we diligently dug in, comparing and contrasting, matching ryes and ryes (one of the ingredients which adds a beautiful sweetness such as in Booker's) or 21 year old vintage vs. 23 year old (21 is much brighter and balanced). Things get better and better as we discussed the bourbon with Colonel Michael Masters who was on hand. And as we cleared the cups away I had a burning question for the Colonel: what in the hell is this "vintage" stuff?!

Turns out that "vintage" was not a category so much as an actual distillery located just a few miles from where we were sitting. And the heavens parted and the angels sang... a whole new distillery which we'd never heard of whose stuff was not only extremely rare and old, but it was the best bourbon I'd ever tasted, beating Booker's, Baker's, Pappy Van Winkle, and everything else hands down. Not only was it incredible stuff, but it was incredibly varied, ranging from their 25 year-old (and 125 proof) Willett Estate to the Pure Kentucky XO (think of a bigger, better balanced, beautiful Woodford Reserve). So why in the fuck haven't you heard of this heavenly stuff?! Well, to hear Colonel tell it they have such a limited distribution and tiny production that Bardstown, KY, is basically the only place on Earth that you can get it.

On the way out of Bardstown that night Jeremy and Simon had the smart idea of stopping by one of the local liquor stores and found some of the Vintage we had been drinking that night. I placed a phone order for 3 bottles (I would have done a lot more but you can only let friends buy so many bottles and carry them over state lines for you, ya know). The Chapeze House tasting was the bourbon highlight of the trip and its basically an absolutely required stop for anyone planning a trip. The Colonel will blow your mind.

Our final day in Kentucky was a Sunday which means that in Kentucky there isn't much you can do to appreciate bourbon unless you've thought ahead and pre-purchased. We made our way across the state to the beautiful horse country and the Labrot & Graham distillery near Versailles (pronounced in the most un-French way possible), home to Woodford Reserve (the official bourbon of the Derby). I've long since been a fan of this extremely under valued blend but even if I wasn't the distillery (a national historic landmark) was the best tour we went on during the trip. Though it costs $5, the tour begins with a short film and then takes you through the entire operation (another very, very small one). It was really a great way to end the trip, and I'd be surprised if Eric and I don't eventually end up buying our own barrel of Woodford Reserve (which is specially blended exclusively for you, for only $9000, equaling 190 1 liter bottles).

We wound our way back down to Atlanta and some more fun, and then eventually home. It was a great trip and I can't wait to head back.

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UK

Pointing out landmarks from the London Eye, including Parliament and Big Ben, above, and the Snowdon Mountain Railway makes its way up to the top, below. (Click here for a full gallery).

As previously reported, my recent trip to the UK was a great time. Usually on 2-week trips I get sort of anxious near the end to get back to my life, my work, my bed, etc., but on the move I felt great and would happily have kept going deeper into Scotland for another 2 weeks instead of returning home. It was just the 3 of us (my sister Amy, brother Michael, and I) with a basic plan of getting from London to Edinburgh in a roundabout way, trying to act more as travelers than tourists.

First stop: London. Though I really wanted to see London, I was immediately excited to leave it behind as soon as we landed on our first day. We stuck around for 2 days (laughably not long enough for people who aren't on a mission) doing most of what you'd expect: Tower of London, London Eye, parks, British Museum, pubs, pints, Tate Modern, St. Paul's, bridges. Luckily my college friend Megan happened to send me a note just before we left on the trip, and it was great to meet up with her, colleagues, and hubby to do some quality drinking (thanks babe!).

The morning of our 3rd day we made our way to Heathrow to rent a car (thanks so much London Underground for closing the Piccadilly Line... yes, fine, the subway in England is much cleaner than NYC, but who really cares since it never works!) for the second leg of the journey. I was pretty nervous about driving, wrong-sided-ness and all of that, and so happily got the full coverage insurance and an automatic (I drive a manual normally)... but holy shit wasn't that an expensive idea. And yes, let me pause here to say... the UK is hilariously, laugh out loud, then sob in your hands like a baby expensive right now, comparative to the U.S. dollar. Right, well, anyway... we got a car, a very fancy one (the only automatic they had as it turns out, despite our reservation), and struck a past West.

Ah, yes, going West, as young men and women. So romantic... if only the entire country wasn't so small and filled with weekenders pouring out of the city. We made our way for Stonehenge as I got acclimated to British driving, and left the decision in Mikey's hands as whether or not we would actually stop. He wisely chose to peek from the road (because its RIGHT next to the highway, strangely) and so we sped off refreshed at moving on to our destination for the day: Bath.

A resort town for hundreds of years because of its natural hot springs, and thus its name, Bath is just about the most boring place imaginable for a 16-year old kid like my brother. You basically can check out the Roman Baths and Abbey, eat something, and then you are done, and even then the baths are actually pretty lame. For some reason I thought the baths would be really, really interesting, but no... lame. I can see where with a big group of friends interested in just hanging out and drinking, Bath would be really great. But for our purposes, after a few short hours we were ready to head on.

We woke up the next morning outside of Cardiff and started heading to Northern Wales, which would become our favorite place during the whole trip. A large road soon became a small one, and then my trusty Nuvi (invaluable on this adventure) guided us to road A4459 heading NW towards the water. Calling A4459 a road is really, really misguided. It is more of a very narrow horse-cart path winding incredibly and beautiful up through forests, down vast pastures, and around tiny, tiny hamlets and farms. It was probably greatest driving experience of my life, and this is from someone who loves to drive. Eventually A4459 moved us to the ocean and we stopped for the first time that day to look over the water and cliffs dotted with sheep and horses.

For the next 2 days we drove and climbed all over Northern Wales, stopping at incredible castles, heading to the summit of Snowdon, and stocking up on local ales at the Super Tesco near our hotel. Though Caernarfon Castle is cool and not to be missed, we actually preferred Harlech Castle, further down the coast, which was much smaller and way less tourist friendly (thus allowing you to imagine yourself back in time way more easily). The journey up Snowdonia in the rack and pinion railway cars was cool, but our best moment came the last night when we drove out to Holy Island and watched the sunset over the rocks of a beach park outside of Holyhead, drinking a large delicious bottle of Wychcraft as the sun finally sank into the water and Ireland and the Isle of Man on the horizon.

Our last car trip took us back into England and over to York, which was another town not that interesting to my brother. Especially annoying is the beautifully gothic York Minster, whose trip to the top was expensive, exhausting, and totally worthless (the entire top of the tower is covered in chicken wire that is barely tall enough for me to stand up straight under). For most people over the age of 16, though, York is pretty charming with its narrow streets of shopping and pretty scenics on the river. We spent most of the night in a pub near our hotel playing monopoly (I won) and drinking pints of beer and coke (despite REPEATED efforts, Mikey did not taste a single drop of beer or whiskey on the trip... I guess there are worse things).

We hopped on the train the next morning heading for 3 days at our final destination: Edinburgh. Amy and I planned the trip so that we'd end up in a place that we thought would be really cool, and we were exactly right. Edinburgh is a great city, old and new, with tons to do and climb, and an energy in the air. The first day we climbed up to Arthur's Seat at Holyrood Park (have you picked up on the theme of climbing to the top of things?) and looked out over the entire region, seeing for dozens of miles. The descent had an unfortunate casualty, though, and my brand new flask safely tucked in my back pocket (with a lovely thistle right on the front) will never be the same for my short fall down a stupidly steep path. Luckily the Dalwhinnie I had filled it with was safe and sound.

The other two days passed in a similar happy way... trips to the castle (surprisingly lame), museums (the Whiskey museum was actually really cool), shops (finally some thinking about what to bring home as gifts). We climbed to the top of Carlton Hill, we ate some really wonderful food (Edinburgh is having a huge resurgence of dining apparently) that was all the better for the incredible amount of pub food we'd eaten previously (try Stac Polly (modern Scottish) on St. Mary's St). And on the last day we took a train out to North Berwick (a small coastal village) where Ross (a very cool friend of a friend) had welcomed us to show us around some of where he grew up. After the sites we set up for a lot more pints, many hands of cards, and a lesson in how to understand cricket, we took the last train home to Edinburgh. The next morning our trip ended with the long flight home, complete with delays in Atlanta. Ah, home, sweet home.

A foggy view of the North Sea coast, below, from a window in Tantallon Castle near North Berwick, Scotland.

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San Francisco

Sunrise over the Bay Bridge from the Embarcadero, above, and as seen from Vista Point.

A quick trip to San Francisco featuring a lot of wine and some great food is damn near heaven. Now hopefully I can just take the word "quick" out of that last sentence sometime soon! It was great to be in California with my dad, and also very cool to see my friend and mentor Kim Komenich while in town. I didn't shoot much while I was there, but here is a small look at the mini-vacation.

In the very short time I've been gone, my little blog experiment has been outed so I guess there are a few more people watching. Hopefully that won't impact the honesty that Martin was kind enough to mention. In a comment on his recent post, a reader asked why it was so hard to find the RSS of Drinking with a Dead Man... that made me laugh. There is no RSS. This ain't web 2.0, or some shit like that. However, if someone with some tech skills wants to volunteer to polish things up I'd be very grateful... if I had the time or talent to convert over to movable type, everything would be much better. Please e-mail me if interested. Really. [problem solved!]

Lastly, Wayne has posted the second installment of his interview with me. This is the part where John plays it all cool and "cagey"...

Tourists click, record, and gape at the views around Pier 39 along Fisherman's Wharf, with Alcatraz, the site of the former notorious prison, in the background. 39 is famous for the dozens of seals that have been allowed to make camp on the pier's slips.

Chris Teachworth sips wine from one of the towers of Castello di Amorosa, a replica Italian castle still under construction in Napa Valley created by wine magnate Daryl Sattui. The castle began with plans for 8,000 sq. ft., but has now ballooned into over 100,000 sq. ft., including giant vaults of wine and underground caves, below, in the dozen years of development.

Headlights streak at twilight returning over the Golden Gate Bridge to San Francisco.

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