Midnite's Global Journey of Spiritual Discovery* - Tiki Travel

M midnite Member 37? 47' N, 122? 26' W Joined: Mar 25, 2002 Posts: 1230	M midnite Posted posted on Wed, Dec 27, 2006 3:57 PM The year draws to a close and 'tis the season for family & friends, holiday gatherings, joy and good tidings. I'll pass. No, Virgina, it's travel time, midnite style. This trip, we're going home, as in the Fatherland. London: Ahh, home. The journey started out with a brief visit to that greatest city on earth: London. This stay in London was special for two reasons; one, Christmas in London is always a treat; two, and more importantly, we got to meet up with team Cheekytiki for a one-two punch of Trader Vic's and Mahiki. We took in the Power & Taboo show at the British. Superb. I only got one snappy of the display before I was tussled by security. You can take a picture of the Rosetta Stone but not of one of the three remaining original Ku tikis. Following a dinner at Marylebone's Golden Hinde, home of London's best fish 'n chips, we were off to Mahiki. Some last minute correspondence had set up an evening with Jamie and Anjy. However, when we arrived, just a bit tardy, at Mahiki we found the front door sporting a "closed for private party" sign. "Wow", I thought, "Jamie is going all out for us!" Actually it was more like, "Son of a bit..., one night in London and Mahiki is closed!" I fumbled with my camera, I was going to at least get a shot of the exterior, when I noticed a Hawaiian shirt-wearing fellow eying us with some curiosity. It was Jamie waiting patiently for us to show, listening in for American accents from random passers by (What? I got no accent!). Whew, we got lucky, Jamie whisked us into Mahiki for a special all access tour before the bankers hit Mahiki for their party. Above: Power&Taboo poster, fish n chips!, Anjy enjoying a Pina Colada at Mahiki (her hair is perfect!), the Moai at British Museum, Jamie "sips" from a Neptune's Bounty helmet, Mahiki mug, Trader Vic's money: legal tender? Mahiki is a bit of tiki paradise in Mayfair. Wow, simply...wow. The decor is fantastic, a certifiably classic look with proper lighting and just enough of everything without being too much of a good thing. Black bamboo, seashell lamps, hand painted walls, fine carved tikis from Cheekytiki, all make for a great space. I could spend many hours, and many many pounds, relaxing there. The private function was starting soon, so one drink, a quick tour of the lower lounge and we were off to Vic's. That one drink was Mahiki's Mai Tai, which is about the second best Mai Tai I have ever tasted. Get it, it's 9.50 quid, but it's worth it, dammit! Trader Vic's London was all dressed up in its holiday cheer and was its usual classy self. Seeing the ten-foot "Mai-Tai Canoe" was alone worth the price of admission. A few fine Vic's libations and much good conversation later it was time to get back to the hotel for the too early flight to Zurich. Above: The freakin' fantabulous Mahiki Ultimate Mai Tai, some of Cheekytiki's fine design & decor work at Mahiki. All I can say is Jamie and Anjy made us feel at home, welcome, and special. They treated us very, very well. Cheekytiki are the best, the best... and that's all I am going to say about that. Vienna: we walked in the cold air....freezing breath on the windowpane. This was Vienna, not Covent Garden circa 1981. It means nothing to you, but it does to me. Ha ha, heh. Vienna, the cultural center of Europe. Refined, formal, sophisticated and.....holy crap, it's cold here! Among many things the Austrians do right is Christmas, or Weihnachten. From the many extravagant public decorations to the numerous Christkindlmarkt spread throughout the city, Wien goes all-in for Christmas. Row upon row of Viennese sweets and hot orange punsch...that's a diet I can live with! I wandered around these markets and wondered: why are they all drinking that stuff? Then, I tried a special Advent punch of orange, cinnamon, cloves, and rum. It ain't exactly a tiki cocktail, but when it's 30 degrees outside, it's pure nectar. Oh, Vienna! Our stay in Vienna was not all pastries and hot rum punch, close though. We did check out those Hapsburg bastards' summer place in Schonbrunn along with many other usual suspects of Wien tourism: Parlament, Belvedre Palace, Opera House, St. Peter's, Rathausplatz. One special event was Midnight Mass (I'm a sucker for these) at St. Stephens Cathedral. Vienna has all the polished beauty of Paris but feels a bit more approachable, homelier. That may have been a product of the season, though. Nonetheless, Wien is a great city I would gladly go back to see at another time of year, but not if it meant no orange punsch! Bratislava:Going home, eh MacIntyre? This trip was quite special for me on a personal level. It meant a chance to go back, to go home, literally, to the Fatherland. Only a short train ride from Vienna is Slovakia, birthplace of the original midnite tiki fiend, my late Dad. The Ole Sarge was born in Czechoslovakia and his life was a blueprint for that which typifies the quintessential tiki enthusiast of the mid-20th Century. He's the reason I drifted toward this aesthetic, he was tiki old-school. His artillery punch remains a legend 'round some parts of the American Southwest. So, while Dad was not from Bratislava, this was a chance for me to go home, to see my people. Ok then, when's that train back to Vienna!?! Bratislava is still getting it's legs, free market economy and democracy-wise. The vestiges of decades-long Soviet command and control pervade the city, especially outside of the old town. The yoke of godless communism is being thrown off but it will take a long time before Bratislava competes for tourist dollars against its bigger and prettier sister, Prague. That said, it does provide one a curious glimpse into Iron Curtain life. Plus, it's full of handsome oily bohunks, just like the one dear old Mom fell for back in '47. Bratsilava Castle dominates, along with the alien-looking Novy most bridge, the landscape of the city. The Castle is a treat, if only to see the at times both sad and captivating Slovak National Museum inside. We had it, literally, to ourselves during our visit there two days before Christmas. A quick walk down from the Castle brought us to the old town and a nearly perfect cobblestoned Art Novueau trip back in time. Within the main square was a Slovakian Christmas market that was especially enjoyable. A one-man band, a guy riding a unicycle waving a flag welcoming Jesus, Slovakian food treats(?), and many families. It was authentic, familiar, without the polish and grandeur of Vienna's Christmas markets but still totally cool. I wandered the small alleys and lanes, seeing faces that could have been at my family reunion. I heard accents that took me back to my Dedo's house in Pittsburgh. I saw the plaque commemorating Bratislava's first witch-burning. The city was at the same time baroque period beauty and Soviet-era ugly. This was a world very far from my own, but still so close in many ways. I felt oddly at home, although only at times. More often I was just a passing observer, with an authentic Slav surname, nothing more. Still, it meant something to me: Bratislava! 2006 ends with one more club sandwich for the judge's consideration: The room service club sandwich at Vienna's Hotel Imperial was a worthy effort, but it fell considerably short of high marks. Great hotel, iffy sandwich. The European habit of including fried egg is understandable, but to exclude french fries? Oh, Vienna!

The year draws to a close and 'tis the season for family & friends, holiday gatherings, joy and good tidings. I'll pass. No, Virgina, it's travel time, midnite style. This trip, we're going home, as in the Fatherland.

London: Ahh, home.

The journey started out with a brief visit to that greatest city on earth: London. This stay in London was special for two reasons; one, Christmas in London is always a treat; two, and more importantly, we got to meet up with team Cheekytiki for a one-two punch of Trader Vic's and Mahiki. We took in the Power & Taboo show at the British. Superb. I only got one snappy of the display before I was tussled by security. You can take a picture of the Rosetta Stone but not of one of the three remaining original Ku tikis.

Following a dinner at Marylebone's Golden Hinde, home of London's best fish 'n chips, we were off to Mahiki. Some last minute correspondence had set up an evening with Jamie and Anjy. However, when we arrived, just a bit tardy, at Mahiki we found the front door sporting a "closed for private party" sign. "Wow", I thought, "Jamie is going all out for us!" Actually it was more like, "Son of a bit..., one night in London and Mahiki is closed!" I fumbled with my camera, I was going to at least get a shot of the exterior, when I noticed a Hawaiian shirt-wearing fellow eying us with some curiosity. It was Jamie waiting patiently for us to show, listening in for American accents from random passers by (What? I got no accent!). Whew, we got lucky, Jamie whisked us into Mahiki for a special all access tour before the bankers hit Mahiki for their party.

Above: Power&Taboo poster, fish n chips!, Anjy enjoying a Pina Colada at Mahiki (her hair is perfect!), the Moai at British Museum, Jamie "sips" from a Neptune's Bounty helmet, Mahiki mug, Trader Vic's money: legal tender?

Mahiki is a bit of tiki paradise in Mayfair. Wow, simply...wow. The decor is fantastic, a certifiably classic look with proper lighting and just enough of everything without being too much of a good thing. Black bamboo, seashell lamps, hand painted walls, fine carved tikis from Cheekytiki, all make for a great space. I could spend many hours, and many many pounds, relaxing there. The private function was starting soon, so one drink, a quick tour of the lower lounge and we were off to Vic's. That one drink was Mahiki's Mai Tai, which is about the second best Mai Tai I have ever tasted. Get it, it's 9.50 quid, but it's worth it, dammit! Trader Vic's London was all dressed up in its holiday cheer and was its usual classy self. Seeing the ten-foot "Mai-Tai Canoe" was alone worth the price of admission. A few fine Vic's libations and much good conversation later it was time to get back to the hotel for the too early flight to Zurich.

Above: The freakin' fantabulous Mahiki Ultimate Mai Tai, some of Cheekytiki's fine design & decor work at Mahiki.

All I can say is Jamie and Anjy made us feel at home, welcome, and special. They treated us very, very well. Cheekytiki are the best, the best... and that's all I am going to say about that.

Vienna: we walked in the cold air....freezing breath on the windowpane. This was Vienna, not Covent Garden circa 1981. It means nothing to you, but it does to me. Ha ha, heh.

Vienna, the cultural center of Europe. Refined, formal, sophisticated and.....holy crap, it's cold here! Among many things the Austrians do right is Christmas, or Weihnachten. From the many extravagant public decorations to the numerous Christkindlmarkt spread throughout the city, Wien goes all-in for Christmas. Row upon row of Viennese sweets and hot orange punsch...that's a diet I can live with! I wandered around these markets and wondered: why are they all drinking that stuff? Then, I tried a special Advent punch of orange, cinnamon, cloves, and rum. It ain't exactly a tiki cocktail, but when it's 30 degrees outside, it's pure nectar. Oh, Vienna!

Our stay in Vienna was not all pastries and hot rum punch, close though. We did check out those Hapsburg bastards' summer place in Schonbrunn along with many other usual suspects of Wien tourism: Parlament, Belvedre Palace, Opera House, St. Peter's, Rathausplatz. One special event was Midnight Mass (I'm a sucker for these) at St. Stephens Cathedral. Vienna has all the polished beauty of Paris but feels a bit more approachable, homelier. That may have been a product of the season, though. Nonetheless, Wien is a great city I would gladly go back to see at another time of year, but not if it meant no orange punsch!

Bratislava:Going home, eh MacIntyre?

This trip was quite special for me on a personal level. It meant a chance to go back, to go home, literally, to the Fatherland. Only a short train ride from Vienna is Slovakia, birthplace of the original midnite tiki fiend, my late Dad. The Ole Sarge was born in Czechoslovakia and his life was a blueprint for that which typifies the quintessential tiki enthusiast of the mid-20th Century. He's the reason I drifted toward this aesthetic, he was tiki old-school. His artillery punch remains a legend 'round some parts of the American Southwest. So, while Dad was not from Bratislava, this was a chance for me to go home, to see my people. Ok then, when's that train back to Vienna!?!

Bratislava is still getting it's legs, free market economy and democracy-wise. The vestiges of decades-long Soviet command and control pervade the city, especially outside of the old town. The yoke of godless communism is being thrown off but it will take a long time before Bratislava competes for tourist dollars against its bigger and prettier sister, Prague. That said, it does provide one a curious glimpse into Iron Curtain life. Plus, it's full of handsome oily bohunks, just like the one dear old Mom fell for back in '47.

Bratsilava Castle dominates, along with the alien-looking Novy most bridge, the landscape of the city. The Castle is a treat, if only to see the at times both sad and captivating Slovak National Museum inside. We had it, literally, to ourselves during our visit there two days before Christmas. A quick walk down from the Castle brought us to the old town and a nearly perfect cobblestoned Art Novueau trip back in time. Within the main square was a Slovakian Christmas market that was especially enjoyable. A one-man band, a guy riding a unicycle waving a flag welcoming Jesus, Slovakian food treats(?), and many families. It was authentic, familiar, without the polish and grandeur of Vienna's Christmas markets but still totally cool.

I wandered the small alleys and lanes, seeing faces that could have been at my family reunion. I heard accents that took me back to my Dedo's house in Pittsburgh. I saw the plaque commemorating Bratislava's first witch-burning. The city was at the same time baroque period beauty and Soviet-era ugly. This was a world very far from my own, but still so close in many ways. I felt oddly at home, although only at times. More often I was just a passing observer, with an authentic Slav surname, nothing more. Still, it meant something to me: Bratislava!

2006 ends with one more club sandwich for the judge's consideration: The room service club sandwich at Vienna's Hotel Imperial was a worthy effort, but it fell considerably short of high marks. Great hotel, iffy sandwich. The European habit of including fried egg is understandable, but to exclude french fries?

Oh, Vienna!

Post #275149 by midnite on Wed, Dec 27, 2006 3:57 PM