Midnite's Global Journey of Spiritual Discovery*

*Aka "One Man's Search for the World's Best Room Service Club Sandwich."

My personal travels throughout the globe take me to many interesting places, some of which serve a stellar club, but also I try to catch a bit of Tiki wherever I can. So, now that I have a digital camera that didn't come in a cereal box, I thought I would share some of my excursions with my TC pals. I had intended calling this topic "Midnite's Express" but considering I still intend to visit Istanbul some day, I thought better.

First up, my recent trip to England and this traveler's favorite city: London. I was only in London for a few days, and was unfortunately unable to meet up with any of the UK TC members, next time. I did grab the announcement card for the London Luau that Vic's was placing with all bills. Here is a shot of my, note the plural, visits to Vic's:

At the time of this trip London Vic's as still offering it's "Tiki" menu of discounted drinks, weekdays 5-7pm. At 5 pounds for a Zombie, Mai Tai, among others, it cannot beat. The drinks were well made, some Russian/Eastern Bloc bartenders there now. Not bad, not bad at all. The service is still sketchy, but London Vic's more than makes up for it with the eye candy...nudge nudge. The descent down the spiral staircase from the Hilton lobby into Vic's is the quintessential Tiki bar entrance.

What a nice stay, as if one can have a bad time in London. As some wise old dead guy said, "When one tires of London, one tires of life" Something like that, I don't recall it exactly, I had four Zombies in me.

Oh yeah, my trip to London was not strictly an excuse to drink at Vic's, close though. I also checked out the Imperial War Museum's special exhibit on T.E Lawrence. This is the actual Brough he was riding when he suffered the fatal crash:

Also checked out Stonehenge...it's not as big as it's supposed to be!...and was able to score some special early access which enabled me to capture some candid and isolated snaps:

So, Lawrence and Stonehenge are not strictly "Tiki" per se, but I am a complex and many-faceted being. Like the fine diamond that tops Her Majesty's crown I too am multi-faceted. I also like old German convertibles, club sandwiches, and bullfights.

Off to the navel of the Earth and the cradle of civilization, with a brief stop in gay Paris. Candid photos to come. Garcon, more club sandwich, por favor!

EDIT: ALL the photos from this page have gone missing. Replacing what I am able.

[ Edited by: midnite_tiki 2008-06-05 23:22 ]

On 2006-04-10 19:40, midnite_tiki wrote:
*Aka "One Man's Search for the World's Best Room Service Club Sandwich."

I was only in London for a few days, and was unfortunately unable to meet up with any of the UK TC members, next time.

Hey Midnite, We did try.
Armed with the secret password we sidled up to many customers in Vics on the Thursday night, whispered in their ear and were promptly told to F*!K off and leave them alone.

LIES!!! ALL lies! Midnite can't even travel a few blocks to go to the SF Trader Vics (even on free Mai_Tai night!) so I refuse to believe he actually FLEW somewhere! He is a FRAUD, an imposter and NO good at doing silly walks!!!!

PS-I LOVE you MAN! :)

That is a spectacular montage of Mai Tais!

Ok, where am I, and what time is it? I just got back late last night from places far and farther. I think I missed a big event yesterday, perfect timing, story of my life.

"Armed with the secret password we sidled up to many customers in Vics on the Thursday night, whispered in their ear and were promptly told to F!K off and leave them alone. "*

Thursday was a bad night for me, sorry I was rude, after so many working girls vying for my attention, ya know. I did not make it to Vic's that night, had to get up early for the 6am drive out to Stonehenge (not as big....). Next time, I promise, and I will also make it to Senor Pedro's place this time too (another free mai tai I lost out on). I will be back in London within the year!

*Midnite can't even travel a few blocks to go to the SF Trader Vics (even on free Mai_Tai night!) so I refuse to believe he actually FLEW somewhere! He is a FRAUD, an imposter and NO good at doing silly walks!!!! *

It was raining, and there was a scary looking guy at the bus stop. Plus, I think Matlock was on. I do too travel, but alas, I am a fraud.

That is a spectacular montage of Mai Tais

Thanks, wait 'til you see the next series of candid shots from this latest excursion. The Kona Kai in Athens is tres magnifique. For the life of me I cannot get anything across in Hellenic, other than Kalimera. Luckily most everyone understood, "Another Club Sandwich, please!"

Jet Lag Boy,
midnite

On 2006-04-21 09:08, midnite_tiki wrote:
had to get up early for the 6am drive out to Stonehenge (not as big

And that's with the hidden lenses & mirrors.... You should have seen it before the Yanks starting coming over, comparing it to the big plastic dinosaur of Utah. Ah, told you you should have gone to Avebury.

Glad you enjoyed the Kona Kai - an unspoilt gem among the dusty ruins. Can't wait to see the montage.

Trader Woody

Kalimera!

Our most recent stops in my "Quest for the World's Greatest Club Sandwich" were Athens, followed by a few days in Paris. Athens was a quite a sight, a very interesting city. Our hotel was at Syntagma Square, as we exited the Metro station we were greeted by bright blue sky and a cacophony of disagreeable sounds. We had the misfortune of arriving during, at that point, a 10-day garbage collection strike. It seems the garbage collectors were at that very moment marching in loud protest down the street fronting the Parliament building. Then, as we approached our hotel I saw two stray dogs literally attack an automobile. Not just run next to it and bark, I mean attack, with prejudice. What a first impression of Athens was all I could think. Note: do not mess with the stray dogs of Athens, especially if you're in a car.

Athens: Acropolis, ruins, history, Delphi, ruins, blah blah blah. Let's get to the Tiki! At the Ledra Marriott is Kona Kai and what a place it is. Kona Kai is a must....a must...if you are ever lucky enough to visit Athens. Now, getting there can be a trick. A veritable freeway fronts the place, it is not pedestrian friendly. This fact leads to the worst part of Athens: the taxi drivers. They're a wonderful bunch, ubiquitous and cheap, but also very dodgy in the business ethics department. Take a cab, but do keep an eye on the meter. Athens taxis are a problem.

Here's what greets you descend to the Kona Kai: the "waterfall" effect surrounding the logo Kona Kai tiki is uber-cool. Some of the pics are a bit blurry, I did not use a flash for many, as I tried to capture the true ambiance. Well, after a few Mai Tais the ambiance is inherently blurry anyway.

Here's a montage of some of the drinks we enjoyed. That's a Mai Tai in the lower right, a Zombie in the green tiki mug, a South Pacific next to it. The lower left pic shows another Mai Tai and a Polynesian Passion. Served with your drink is an assortment of nuts and these rice cake things...they look, and taste, like contraceptive sponges. They're pretty though, like big foamy mushrooms.

Here's a shot of Nikos, Hellenic mixologist extraordinaire. Notice the authentic Orchids of Hawaii mugs in the back bar.

Nikos makes, no, he creates like the true artisan he is, a superb Mai Tai. Close your ears Mr. Bergeron, you ain't going to like this part. The Kona Kai Mai Tai is the best I have ever tasted. Voila, I give you the Kona Kai Mai Tai (cue "Also Sprach Zarathustra"):

Good, no great, news: it is sublime, ideal, fantabulous, delicious in a way one feels guilty it's so good. I mean this drink is so tasty, it makes you want to go home and slap your Mother...especially if she's a bartender. Bad news, it's 11.50 Euros. The Zombie, not made by Nikos, was so-so. They like their grenadine in Athens, I don't. The Polynesian Passion was also excellent, also made by Nikos. There's' a little forbidden place in Alameda that should cop this recipe. It is a superior libation, indeed. Overall, the Kona Kai is difficult to find, the drinks are pricey, the food more so, but save them nickels and get yourself to Athens and visit the Kona Kai. Have a Mai Tai, come back and tell me, "midnite, you was right!"

Further research was completed on the "Quest", all entries were worthwhile efforts, special marks go the lobster club, a decadent treat in gay Paris:

And here's a nice montage of the sights in Athens/Delphi. Pretty cool. No Tiki, but without Hellenic civilization where would we be? Savages I say, utter savages:

Thumbs up to Athens, a wild in-your-face sprawling mass of humanity with friendly folks and great history...plus Nikos at the Kona Kai. Paris, as always, is too beautiful for words. I may wish to spend my last days in Venice, but I just might want to die in Paris. Say, a fatal sugar overdose, brought on by one too many visits to Laduree.

The traveling circus that is my life is set for a brief adventure east, to an exotic island steeped in mystery. The passport is ready, got my shots, the Consulate has been notified. Candid pics to follow!

Send Lawyers, Guns, and Money,
midnite

EDIT: Photos replaced!

[ Edited by: midnite_tiki 2008-06-05 23:26 ]

Great travelogue!

A brief, exciting, and delicious trip to Isle de Alameda.

Never one to shy away from a long trek to distant and foreign shores I packed up the necessary provisions, enough American Dollars to pay off unsavory government officials, and made sure my shots and will were up to date. Then, with the air of adventure surrounding our departure, we headed off to points unknown, a faraway land of rumored tropical delights. Our destinaton:

After several modes of transportation including, but not limited to, motor coaches, trains, and bus, through land and (under) sea we alighted our public carrier and set off on foot. Due to a small miscalculation on my part, perhaps my navigational aids did not work in this mysterious Isle de Alameda, we prematurely disembarked the #51. More likely, I saw the street sign for "Lincoln", got overly excited and bolted from the bus. Following several arduous blocks travelled on foot the target of our journey was in sight. There in the distance, it was hard to make out, but I could see it just a bit...Forbidden Island. Finally, we were there!

Pulling open the door to this tropical oasis I was immediately hit by...darkness! It was still pretty sunny out in Alameda, took me a few moments to adjust. As my eyes became more accustomed to the dim lighting I could immediately see the fantastic Tiki Lounge that surrounded us. I saw a couple of familiar faces and was welcomed by the staff in a way befitting my position in the Traveling Tiki fraternity:.

This was, foremost, a drinking establishment. However, we did have the coconut shrimp, they are recommended for someone desiring a snack during their cocktail experience at Forbidden Island. Perusing the extensive drink menu I found it hard to decide. The goal: try as much as possible. So, with the help of some fellow Tiki-philes, I would imbibe until I fell down, had to go, or got kicked out. Not bad for one night's efforts, and some cocktails I sampled are not pictured:

Clockwise from top left: Classic Mai Tai, Hawaii Kai Treasure, Painkiller & Forbdidden Island, Chamborlada, Island Mai Tai, Headhunter, and Leilani Volcano.

The drinks were well-made by Forbidden Island's mixologist non-pariel, Sonya. Some are very good, a few are very very....more please, "Oh Momma!" good. I especially enjoyed the Hawaii Kai Treasure and the Forbidden Island. The signature drink by Martin is worthy of any fine Polynesian Drink menu. It is intense, but can be enjoyed by all, in my opinion. If you have just one cocktail (a bad idea) I'd would suggest the Forbidden Island. Still, one cannot go wrong with a Sidewinder's Fang or Painkiller. Mai Tai-wise: I would have to say the Island Mai Tai is a better choice by far. The Chamborlada is a unique concoction, probably best suited for sharing. It is sweet and may not be for all palates, but it is an interesting take on the Pina Colada. Michelle appreciated the Leilani Volcano quite a bit. The Krakatoa and Banana Mamacow are not for me, but seem to be very popular. I could go on, but it's just going to make me thirsty...and Alameda is far!

It was a long and fun-filled night. The best part of Forbidden Island, after the drinks, is the fine group of people one can meet there. Here's a few shots of the new friends I made. I don't recall all the names but I think that one of them is Mrs. Miley? It was a blast, seeing the sights of the best small Tiki Bar I have ever visited, helping customers select a fine libation, and seeing old (and new) friends. It was good to meet Weird Uncle Tiki, who is by no means weird, but may be an uncle. Conversing with the infamous, but less mysterious, "HL"...always a treat.

Forbidden Island is exactly what it attempts to be, a well-done Tiki Lounge established for the appreciation of fine tropical cocktails and good company. The decor is quite good, the mood right. Most of the jukebox is first-rate. It can be, good for them, crowded at times. There are enough top-notch drinks to satisfy even the most discriminatng tastes. One can search high and low, visiting much larger and more well-known establishemnts and still not be served a better cocktail than some of the Forbidden Island offerings. Drink prices are in-line with the costs of tropical cocktails at this level. Given the potency and quality of the product, a person will easily get their money's worth.

One will see a good assortment of clientele (a nice asset), and be able to easily hold a conversation. Music is loud enough to enjoy, but not distract. The setting is right, a nice mix of decor that does not overwhelm the senses. They could use some standing tables between the booths and bar, if practicable. The customers are, from what I could tell, there to truly enjoy the attributes Forbidden Island's operators have put together. People seemed happy to be there, and pleased such an environment exists. The vibe, the mood, the mix...whatever you call it, is what is bringing in the people.

I like it, and I will be back...in like eight or nine days.

midnite

EDIT: Trying to restore lost snappies.

[ Edited by: midnite_tiki 2008-06-05 23:07 ]

There have been many, many, inquiries (roughly one) into when the next installment of the Global Journey is forthcoming. Along the lines of, "What's next on the travel plate?" Why, a club sandwich, of course!

Voila, it was a quick trip to the Valley of the Sun, Phoenix and its greater environs. Not the most spectacular excursion, but I did get in some golf. Yes, there was another entrant in the club sandwich review:

From the Phoenix Airport Sheraton. A solid, ya get what a pay for (and cheap), honest to goodness club. A nice American effort, sort of a Ford Taurus of clubs. It'll get ya where ya going, nothing fancy.

I wanted to check out the new Trader Vic's in Scottsdale, alas the timing was off by about three weeks. The scheduled opening for Vic's is June 4. Crap! Anyhoo, I did swing by the Valley Ho a couple of times. Certainly is a lot of construction going on at the property. I think it's a several story tall condo building being put in on the Southeast corner. No candid pics of Vic's as it is not open yet and I think one should see it as it is intended to be. Plus, it was difficult to capture many shots as I was running for my life, chased by Valley Ho security. Suffice is to say, I will be getting back to the Valley Ho (perhaps disguised) very soon to take in the waters, so to speak, of the new Trader Vic's.

Phoenix was sort of a Tiki-bust. So, let's salvage this post with our latest trip to the exotic shores of the mysterious Isle de Alameda and its favorite new drinking establishment: the world-renowned "Forbidden Island". Another Saturday night at "FI" and once again it does not disappoint. Peruse the latest Forbidden Island montage, and do pay special attention to the latest tiki, front and center as one enters FI, carved by TC's own Benzart. It is a nice addition to an already fabulous decor.

Clockwise from top left Saturn, Sidewinder's Fang, Don's Daiquiri, Rebecca*, Scorpion Bowl, Coronado Luau Special. A new cocktail for me, the Coronado Luau Special is a spectacular festival of orange and rum delights. Yummy!

*The lovely Mrs. Forbidden Island enjoying a special "Grad Grog". That would be Dr. Forbidden Island, PhD. to me.

A super fun night out. Good times, indeed. Forbidden Island...put it on your travel docket today.

midnite

Somewhere between Santayana and Tom Wolfe(the good writer) comes this latest installment: "Those who forget the past will relive it at a family reunion" aka "I told ya but you wouldn't listen, you can't go home again". Yes, it was a trip back to midnite's birthplace: Cape Canaveral, Fl. Pack up your mullet and denim cut-offs, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.

I met up with my sister and her kids at WDW. Ya know, I hadn't ever visited Disney World, and honestly, I wondered why it took this long to figure out to never do it again. So, before any of you Disney lovers out there send me nasty emails here's some candid pics. Hey, at least I was able to get a cocktail, although not enough, in Walt's Happiest F*&#$ing! place on Earth. Ok, Polynesian Village is good, I admit it, a little.

A few shots of Polynesian Village, the closest I could get to Disney World, or whatever the drones make you call it now, without shaving my head, climbing a clocktower, or somesuch imagineering facsimile of true life, and taking as many overweight corn-fed Disney-ites with me. Plus the big rat, the big rat gets the first bullet, and the last, just in case.

This a nice shot of some OA pieces in the Ohana room, which is pretty cool considering it's in WDW and there was this big rat, did I tell ya about it?, walking around as people downed dozens of similarly rodent-shaped pancakes. Herds of hyped-on-syrup kids, oblivious or over-medicated parents, piles of rat head flapjacks, and several WDW characters sweating in those big rat suits. This was Dante's fourth, no fifth, level of hell. Die rat, die. Actually, the room was nice, and it was right next to the bar, which of course, wasn't open yet. Eff you, rodent, and your retarded canine pal.

Lunch, liquid lunch. Ok, some sane adult put a few alcoholic beverages on the menu. Thank you, Uncle Walt! I tried the Mai-Tai. It was satisfactory, anyplace else it would have been sub-par, but in this fevered dreamscape of screeching kids and poorly dressed Disney denizens, pure nectar. Earplugs, sunglasses, a seat at the bar or anywhere else they serve some adult beverages and I could just make it through, maybe, a day at this place. Half a day.

Alrighty, bye bye now! Yes, I will come back soon, see ya. Whew, finally out of Uncle Walt's paradise and off to Cocoa Beach for the ole family reunion. Reserved a room at Wakulla Suites. Ya get a good-sized two bedroom suite for a decent price, enough said. Loads of families, am seeing a trend here, but a big resin tiki that doubles as a shower. Could be worse, could be a 3-day weekend. What's that smell?

Wakulla Suites, in Cocoa Beach, town motto: "Hey, at least we're not that dump Cape Canaveral!" I could go on about the Cape, but Mom taught me not to speak ill of the dead. I was born here?

Several hours in Disney World, no club sandwich, seeing my old neighborhood (there are peacocks roaming the yards), some decent stuff at Polynesian Village, visiting with long lost family (ya know there is a reason for that)....hmmm, can I get an earlier flight out? Oh, and what is at SFO, in the international terminal? The Tiki exhibit.

More Disney, eek!, but at least there's a pic of Jack Lord.

I was born here, no really?
Uncle midnite

EDIT: More lost snappies!

[ Edited by: midnite_tiki 2008-06-05 23:16 ]

I love it! Welcome back to reality and San Francisco - the amusement park for adults!

Thanks for a great post, I can't wait to read it all through throughly

The next big travel adventure is more than a month away so we have to adlib a bit. Seeing that many TC'ers will be traveling to the Crawl this week, here's what awaits in one tropical corner of Alameda:

The new Forbidden Island mural

Finally, after several weeks away. A fine night of fine drinking. Clockwise, from the right: Navy Grog, good but with the Captain's Grog on the menu, always the "Avis" of Grogs; Spindrift, a mighty cocktail (for two) but very tasty, loads of vanilla and spice goodness, behind the glass is the always lovely Haleo'akamia; Macadamia Nut Chi-Chi, made with rum, sweet and nutty, Mango Daiquiri, yummy, maybe my favorite daiquiri.

That leaves five or six drinks remaining on the menu for yours truly. I will reach the summit soon, and I'll do it without oxygen. Everyone travel safely to the Crawl, looking forward to the fun.

The old guy at the end of the bar,
midnite

EDIT: A few more pictures salvaged.

[ Edited by: midnite_tiki 2008-06-05 23:31 ]

Great thread midnight! Truly enjoyed it and all the photos. Well... except for the Disney rants. But (most) everyone is entitled to an opinion. :)

Keep 'em coming.

The Disney rants were my favorite part!

Espana! Bright blue sky, citrus trees, beautiful dark-haired Flamenco dancers, Moorish architecture of Andalusia, arid landscape of Toledo, modern and bustling Madrid. A fascinating nation mixing the talents and tastes of many disparate cultures. Ole!

It's August '06 and that means eight days in sunny and ever exciting Spain. Least that what my tickets said, so, we're off:

Seville: Andalusian home of the flamenco and some of the most beautiful Moorish architecture, our hotel a prime example. The winding lanes of the Barrio Santa Cruz, the Cathedral, and the fantastic Alcazar all make for a wonderful amalgam of Arabic and Iberian. As if existing on two sides of the same country in different eras it was a fantastic entre to Spain. A highlight was the Flamenco show. I, the once skeptical midnite, was quickly transfixed by the speed of the guitarists and the joy of dancers. Plus, Spanish women are like the prettiest in the whole world. And I gets around.

The fortress city of Toledo is straight out of a book, say one like "Man of La Mancha", for instance. Perched high on the mesa it is a cobbled street maze of brick buildings, every alley seems to turn a corner and provide a stunning view across the plain or opens to a charming plaza. Along with Seville it is considered the most beautiful of Spanish cities, that I do not dispute. The cathedral was one of the best I've seen, and I gets around. It is a Spanish town of the ages and I would gladly go back for several days.

*Guys in Pretty Suits 6 Bulls 0. The score does not tell the story, though. Yes, it was death in the afternoon, blood and sand, Ole! and all things that make Spanish culture what it is...supposedly. I saw some amazing things, much of it captivated me, quite a bit disgusted me. At one point the nastiest motherf'n bull literally pile drived the huge horse used by the picador. It was seemingly apparent the horse was muerto and the crowd gasped in horror. I got real confused at that point, as in dead bull=good, dead horse=bad. Same bull, or another not sure, actually rammed the thick wooden plank of the protective banderillero barrera. Sent it, and the guys in pretty suits behind it, flying. I sensed that sort of thing did not happen often, I was soon rooting for the bulls. I dissed some sloppy torero and saluted a couple of the bulls that gave before they got. It was what it was. It's all been said before.

*The horse lived, but soon quit its current position for a safer job at the glue factory. Blindfolded, gagged, and continually ramrodded by a half-ton of pissed of Bos Taurus Ibericus is no way to make a living.

Spanish Tiki Bars. What is "What you write about at Tiki Central after you visit Spain?" Barcelona is really the epicenter of the Spanish Tiki culture, but Madrid did not disappoint with a couple of visits to Mauna Loa Hawaian (sic) Bar. Located on historic Plaza Santa Ana, Mauna Loa was a heady trip into the Spanish Tiki scene. The decor is first-rate: bamboo, tropical fauna, and many small aquariums. Plus, they got live birds upstairs offering their constant refrain. In the small bar area and the cavern like rooms downstairs is much faux lava rock, dark red-brown painted ceilings/walls, and rattan furniture. Service was fine, the Mauna Loa provides each table with several snack bowls (chips/olives/nuts) and a plain but still acceptable ham sandwich (on white!). The senoritas receive a plastic lei and a carnation. The music can get a bit loud, but is pretty fun, Spanish Pop-wise. The crowd is decidedly young, and loud as well, but us oldsters got there early and left before things got too Ibiza-ish. I'd go again, it's a fun place.

Drinks at the Mauna Loa, like so many Spanish/Portuguese Tiki bars are served in real Tiki type vessels. Yep, there's Tiki mugs in them thar bars! Mauna Loa does not have the best variety and they're not for sale, unless you have the suave charm of an International Taveler and Bon Vivant. Unfortunately, the mugs are the highlight of the drinks. One goes to Spain, one goes to Spanish Tiki bars, but not so much for the fine mixology. It is the Achilles heel of the Mauna Loa. For my taste they are not worthy of the fine decor and 6E. Then again, I am spoiled at the feet of Vic's and Forbidden Island. More about the drinks in my subsequent post about the Mauna Loa in "Locating".

Sure, Spain is fascinating, the people (especially the senoritas) are beautiful beyond words, the native cuisine is rustic and tasty (Iberico Jamon, yum!) and the culture an exciting mix of Arabic & European. Madrid possesses some of the world's finest art museums and urban planning. Yeah, it's a great place...but you wonder, yes, you must inquire: What about the club sandwiches?

Ehh, not bad. Passing, though nothing to write home to Mom about (the Paella is mucho better!). Now, did I mention the Spanish ladies? Tan muy hermosos, son.

Adios muchachos,
El midnite

One if by land, two if by sea, more like five (hours) by cramped flying Muni bus in the sky. Been home too long, let's pack a bag and hit the road...or trail, Freedom that is.

The quest continues and this time, to prove a great club can be found at home, we go domestic for a spot of Beantown fun. Yes, it's Boston, and her greater environs, for a quick trip this Fall, get it? The colors of Autumn, some fine food, a bit of tiki and a sneaky surprise visit to watch some football. All said, a neat-o excursion with a variety of bitchin' good times. This time yours truly was accompanied by a most tiki-loving nephew who also happens to be a Tiki Central member. Although, I am not sure of his TC alias. I think he keeps it secret so as not to be guilted by association with...uh, me.

Up first this time round was a couple of days in that one-time tiki and Revolutionary War hotspot: Boston. Most things Polynesian and Tiki are long gone from Boston but a fun time is easy to find. Now usually I simply wear a NY Yankees cap and order chowder Manhattan style for a few laughs. Alas, this time in Beantown it was the more pedestrian fare: Freedom Trail, the public parks, great dining. The food is so good in Boston I did not even try the Marriott room service club. Nope. I did catch the Cheesecake Factory for a getaway lunch and enjoyed their very commendable grilled shrimp club. Dang yummy, a State-side fave of this traveling Yank.

Boston is a great city, but it was time to move on. A short drive, even with the typical Boston traffic, to that paradise aside Route 1 in Saugus: Kowloon! It was time for the Tiki part of our trip and Kowloon did not disappoint. I've seen the pictures, read the reviews, talked to those who had set foot there before me. Nonetheless, I was not prepared for the sheer size of this, this...food factory. It's immense, it's so big I had to adjust my watch every time I went from one room to another. It's big, massive, large. There must have been 30 people lingering around the front entrance and hostess station. We checked with the hostess fearing, but not dreading 'cause it meant more cocktail time, a long wait. What would it be? Thirty minutes, closer to forty-five, probably? The hostess said "Party of two? about three to five minutes." Kowloon is a lot, but at its very base level it is a dining warehouse, a food factory serving Lord knows how many. Did I mention it's big? Plus, there's Keno!

The nephew and I adjourned to the rather un-Tiki main bar and perused the board of faire. The drinks were selected and we two pseudo-Shriner brothers were off to the cocktail races. After all was said and drunk: eight total cocktails.The Good: Mai-Tai and Zombie. The Not Bad: Planter's Punch, Fog Cutter, Pi Yi. The "Oops, that was a mistake!": Typhoon Marie, Coco Mist, Navy Grog.

After a few rounds it was off to the dining, uh, hangar, and an attempt to decipher the nine chapter, sixty page (it seemed) Kowloon dinner menu. I opted for a safe selection, the Hunan Shrimp. My nephew Richard, ever the adventurer and 23-yr old, tried the Flaming Ambrosia. Just how much syrupy pineapple and cherries can one eat with fried shrimp? Part entree, part dessert, part...ick, it's worth trying, especially if it ain't your dinner. I liked it, I had one fried shrimp. The Kowloon dining experience was loud, raucous, fun, but a bit disturbing. Sort of like a weird crazy Tiki-Oriental food-comedy-loving Aunt's house...that seats 600. I'd go back, but not if I had to travel that far.

The final portion of our trip was through the Revolutionary War battlefields and historical sites of Central Massachusetts. We hit the good parts of Lexington and Concord. I saw a pond, pretended it was Walden and got quietly desperate. A highlight was some of the changing colors of Fall and the North Bridge where we upstart Americans started to kick some British Imperialist ass...sort of. Concord was all very charming, in a corduroy and Ralph Waldo sort of way. I'm more of a bowling shirt and James Ellroy kind of dude so we blew that Volvo stand and headed West. The last, but most important, aspect of our journey was a top-secret surprise visit to watch Richard's brothers, two more of my nephews, the football studs of the family, play for the Fitchburg State Falcons! It was a tough day for the Falcons but I got to see my guys lace 'em up and make the other team earn their victory. Hoo-rah!

Awesome trip: fine food, pretty good tiki, a little football and a lot of family.

Wicked good!
midnite

My O my! A couple of months and there's been no traveling? Sort of.

Some of the places I've been had no Tiki involvement and some of the neat-o Tiki experiences took place while the digital camera stayed at home. Doh! not too sharp there, boy. Hey, all those years of schooling did not entirely "take", if you know what I mean and I think you do. Yeah yeah, sure sure, but were any good Clubs involved?

Short answer: "Uh, The Emancipation Proclamation?" Long answer: "Keep reading!"

Seeing I cannot stay too long in one place, the law is on my back ya know. Further, when that one place is the tiny Midnite casa en la calle esta no curvy de Lombard I got to roam. So, in November I did head out to the Sonora desert and a quick visit to the greatest spot in the Valley of the Sun: The Phoenician. Now, Phoenix for me is a lot of family and golf. Who wants to see that? Not me! Plus, I failed to swing by Trader Vic's, again stupid me. All is not lost, my Tiki amigos, I did fill in the time with a couple of killer-diller clubs, not the 7-iron type. Oh yeah.

Fore! It's the Chicken Club done 19th-Hole style at the Phoenician and it's a spicy concoction of love...the love of a good sandwich. Nothing unnatural about that, no matter what the Bible states. You can say what ya will about Phoenix: it's like yogurt, 'cept yogurt has some culture, something like that. Still, they do got lots to offer there. Someday, I'll even visit the new Vic's, and I'll bring the camera, nudge nudge.

Back home in 'Frisco, ya I call it that, there's been some good times but unfortunately most were photo-free episodes. A special highlight was Thanksgiving at Trader Vic's. They put on a good show Gobble Gobble-wise, but I bypassed the turkey and trimmings and went straight to the New York strip. A nice steak and a Trader Vic Stinker for dessert. Hmm, a good steak, some better cocktails, all dressed-up and in a swanky room. That sounds so vaguely familiar, but something about that isn't quite right, something or someone is missing. What, what would the Ja...? Nope! the Jab was there, the camera was missing. It was a Jab Family Thanksgiving, sort of. Let's just say I gave serious thanks Dean swung by to share a libation (or two) that night. He was like a suave and entertaining Indian to my stranded, in need of assistance, company-wise, Pilgrim.

The final event to chronicle again involved SF Vic's and the Great Quest. Another visit just last night to savor the finest burger on this side of the Bay (Emeryville Vic's is just a bit better). Trudging, in a partial downpour, through the Tenderloin, EEK!, for several blocks we made our way to that friendly destination. Trader Vic's awaited a pair of soggy, hungry, and reasonably cranky "sort of" travelers in need of a good cocktail. Put Lars in charge of the manger and we got a Christmas Story, sort of. A fan-fu%^&#-tabulous cheeseburger done Vic's way, a Stinker, and the night was back on track for the last part of our pseudo-journey. Hey, I know it's a hamburger and not a club sandwich, but Trader Vic's makes a burger that's so good...you know the rest.

Come on, let's go! It's mid-December in San Francisco and that means but one thing for this hombre. The greatest group of musicians in the land: just another band from East L.A. at the Fillmore. Two shows, baby! The ears are still ringing.

Find the midnites in the picture, win a tiki prize!

Peace,
el midnite

ps Christmas is coming, time to get packing.

Center of crowd, no hair, beige shirt.

Fabulous read....bring on the passport and jetlag. :D

Can't recognize the tops of your heads even with my glasses. How the hell am I supposed to recognize that? I've never seen the tops of your heads.

In this festive time of family and friends, many things touch us and cause us to ponder the really important questions of life:
How was the Mahiki?
Where are the drink photos?
What about the club sandwiches?

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!

It's 2007, where does the time fly?

I have no idea about time, but I fly...and too much. Still, it has been almost two full months since I've been any-where. Let's pack up the less than 3oz toiletries and get going. This time, it's Charm City, Hon. That's right, some Baltimore loving, mid-winter style.

One side, the respectable one, of the midnite lineage goes way back in Maryland. I mean way way back, Mr. Peabody. To the beginning, Republic of Maryland-wise. So, in essence, it is yet another venture for me to the fatherland. This was a serious trip, notes taken, questions asked: is this midnite territory, could one Bay Area be exchanged for another, what's the prosecutorial tempermant here regarding white-collar crime? Stay tuned.

Now, the trip as not all real estate analysis and cost of living matrices. Heck no, we got out and about and dug the scene, Hon. Well, as much as one likes to get out when it's 22 degrees with occasional snow flurries. Umm, is this white stuff on the ground a normal thing? 'Cause if it is, that's gonna be a problem.

We took in some sights: Camden Yards (a little quiet this time of year), the Inner Harbor, and my personal favorite, Fell's Point. It's a fine city, and in many ways similar to good ole San Fran. A nice waterfront, great food, good culture and fine architecture. Frisco's neato but Baltimore's got charm...or so they try and tell you every fifteen minutes. Hey, I do like it here...but this icy sidewalk, is that typical. And the slush, truly all together necessary?

If you have ever considered a visit to Baltimore, by all means do come. There's lots to offer. However, I would also counsel to forget the city almost entirely and show up for just one thing: the crab cakes at Faidley's. Mercy, these little mounds of sweet succulent lump meat are like....the best f%$!&# thing ever. Now, before anyone goes off and tries to get me blackballed from the CSASA (Club Sandwich Appreciation Society of America) I still live or the little triple-decker treats. However, midnite cannot live on clubs alone, I tried, and these cakes at Faidley's are so good I walked around slapping every Mother I could find.

Speaking of clubs...well, what else do I do? It's Baltimore, it's Fell's Point, it's a diner, it's a club sandwich at Jimmy's. Solid, American, traditional. Beautiful. Makes me wanna stand up, recite the Pledge of Allegiance and send Barry Levinson a bottle of single malt.

I know, I know. Cut the low-rent travelogue cack and get to the tiki. Sorry, no can do in a Baltimore state of mind. While the former number two city of the nation once had a vibrant tiki scene, the landscape is presently barren. So, what's a traveling tikiphile to do in a city without Polynesian treats of the alcoholic kind? One, cry. Two, seriously reconsider any relocation plans. I mean Forbidden Island is far, but the trek from Baltimore to Alameda is really far. I know.

So let's be like Miles and improvise. Considering I touched down in OAK not fifteen hours before the start of Don the Beachcomber's Centennial celebration at FI I figured I would "combine" the night's festivities into the Baltimore visit. Heck, I was wearing some of the clothes I packed for the trip! It was a low key evening at FI, with some familiar faces attending the festivities. A finely decorated Polynesian/Tiki lounge, some excellent cocktails, and good company. I think Ole Don would have approved.

Dr. Martin went all out preparing some of the ingredients for the evenings special Donn Beach cocktails. The pimento liquer was quite interesting. It was part of the very fine Nui Nui. The other drink special was a Plantation Punch, an equally impressive recipe. Vanilla, cinnamon, pineapple, lime, these were some fine libations. One experienced veteran FI'er proclaimed the Nui Nui the best drink ever at FI. Heady accolades indeed. Kudos to El Martin Abu Forbidden Island as he is quite competently maintaining the standards started by Don so long ago.

The evening was Fez optional, but really there's no option, ya dig? I brought my own out for the night. Forbidden Island and Fez go together like rum and simple syrup. Just look at these FI regulars, as if you needed proof.

Hon, did someone say Fez?
midnite

Morocco 2007

Hope and Crosby sang it in ‘42, “Like Webster’s dictionary...” Now, sixty some years later I was Morocco bound. While Bob and Bing had to deal with the jealous and swarthy Anthony Quinn, yours truly had more serious elements to face. This was Morocco Spring 2007 and the warmer weather meant bombing season was upon us. I’d be traveling solo into that special category of nation state: random police checkpoints and ubiquitous pictures of the Supreme Leader. The police were out in force for several reasons: the King was afoot, smuggling is rampant, and suicide bombing has become a new participation sport. This ought to be interesting.

I set down in Casablanca, the international port of intrigue and cinematic fame. In actuality Casa is more “Athens meets Nice” than Bogie loses Bergman. Yes, there’s gambling in Casablanca but not the typical “hit on sixteen” type. No, one gambles a bit more serious stakes nowadays. Casablanca is a bustling metropolis of several million, full of Art Deco architecture and the world’s third largest mosque. More European than African it has a sizable population of underprivileged, the very seriously poor. The violent counter elements to the ruling class of this society are fomenting in Casa and I fell right in the middle of it. There was a bit of nasty business in March which prompted the UK Foreign Office to issue some rather serious traveler warnings to the British subjects. There was much nasty business the day before I landed and more a few days after I departed. Luckily, I was temporarily confused by another more serious bombing in neighboring Algiers, my minimal French, and pure dumb luck. It was not until after several days in Fes did I put the info together in a coherent fashion and realize there had been several deadly bombings throughout Casablanca surrounding my brief time there.

There is not much to see touristo speaking in Casablanca. I did have sufficient time to take in the Hassan II Mosque. It is an impressive physical structure and is one of only a few Mosques worldwide open to non-believers...and baby, I am a non-believer of the first order. Still, when in Rome, ya dig? They spent a lot of Dirham on this place, if it gets them what they want, more power to them. The stay in Casa was not all glitzy mosques and suicide bombers. Nope, it was club sandwich time, North African style. The verdict? Hey, after traveling about 26 hours and enduring some rather intimidating security measures at the aeroport and hotel...this club was pure ambrosia. I give the Casablanca Sheraton staff high marks for their effort. A quick jaunt around downtown and I was off to the Casa Voyageurs station for a train ride to Fes. Oh, one last bit of Casa fun. My train was “retard” and the platform became rather crowded with passengers waiting for my train and the one arriving after it. I was about the only “Westerner” I could see at this point and was feeling a wee bit...uh...nervous. No worries mate, as the next thing I hear was a dude directly behind me yelling....YELLING.... “Allaahu Akbar!” This was it I thought, the last thing I shall hear before the boom. To my utter and complete relief, save a pair of jockeys that needed immediate discarding, it was one serious believer taking it upon himself to make the noon call to prayer. Hey, Mustafa, lighten up, you’re gonna give me a cardiac here.

After several hours journey on a Moroccan train I found myself in Fes. This would be my first exposure to the medina and its centuries old way of life. Chaotic, bustling, a heady amalgam of busy people, beggars, shops, animals, dust, dung, water, sights and sounds I had never experienced before. This was all in the first five minute walk from the taxi stand to my inn. I was told things were a bit more serious in Fes, the people more conservative, the traders quite aggressive. Whatever, as long the “boom boom” was far away I’d be happy. I stayed in a 600 year old restored home, a riad. I took the grand Kohba suite, enjoyed the design and decor elements, thoroughly reveling in the beauty that was my home for several days. The special Friday call to prayer from the famous mosque nearby was enchanting and mysterious, if a bit tedious after the first ten minutes or so. The medina was a labyrinth of alleys, small squares and mule carts. No motor vehicles can navigate the medina, everything is transported via animal cart. I was sideswiped several times by mules and their packs. One quickly learns that “Balak!” is Arabic for “Get the eff outta the way, hombre!”

My stay in Fes had several highlights: A trek up the hill to the ruins of the Merenid Tombs allowed me to spend a pleasant time talking to a Berber trader. These people are friendly and warm, or at least this chap was. He gave me some marital advice (don’t) and tips on trading in the medina (also don’t). On the way back I was given a ratty old flower by a precious little boy, and spoke to him with my one semester of high school French. His geature was purely a ploy for a few Dirham but he and his brother were adorable little guys, their picture a lasting memory of my stay...and it only cost me about a $1.25. The foul-smelling tanneries, the Medersas, the many many mosques, the non-stop sales efforts of the medina’s shopkeepers. Fes is a deeply fascinating place and I would happily return someday. Alas, it time to leave and take the most famous of trains: The Marrakech Express.

Ah yes, let’s take the train to Marrakech. The nitwit who thought that would be a good idea should be...oh wait, that was me. Well, you live, and you learn. If you live long enough you learn to never take the train for eight hours to Marrakech. Stupid smelly hippie song notwithstanding, it is hell on rails. Plus, this ain’t even the real Marrakech Express! That portable purgatory departs Tangier. Chalk one up to never ever again. Still, what was agony on the train soon turned to absurdity as I alighted in Marrakech to find the station empty, no driver from my riad to pick me up, no nothing. Again, the king was moving, security was extra tight and no cars were moving in my part of town. So, I got to walk around downtown Marrakech, dragging a large duffel bug, sweating like a pig in a rubber suit, and woefully presenting the biggest “Look at me, I’m a lost Westerner” countenance as possible. Someone wants me to die in Morocco, that’s all I could think. Eventually my driver met me at another hotel and I was driven in a large Mercedes taxi, through the narrow winding alleys of he medina, to my room. Alone in the back, sunglasses on, in my tan suit, I looked and felt like an attache to the consular general being transported through the teeming masses. I have expected the parting and not overly pleased throng to attack the car, remove my imperialistic behind from the Mercedes and drag me to an untimely death...without a watch.

After a relaxing evening in Marrakech I was up early the next morning for a trip to the coast and the beautiful seaside town of Essaouira. Bright blue ocean, whitewashed buildings, the ever present red and green of the Moroccan flag. Essaouira is cool and laid back compared to the hot and frenetic pace of Marrakech. This is a special place, I wished more time was available for me to enjoy it all. I ate a profoundly inexpensive lunch of “right of the boat fresh” seafood. Fish, calamari, shrimp, langoustine, lobster...all grilled a few feet away, messy and delicious. I strolled the ramparts and took it all in listening to Jimi Hendrix through my headphones. It felt good to breath in some fresh sea air, it was what I needed considering I faced a return trip to Marrakech. Along with suicide bombers the UK traveler warnings clearly point out the profound danger that is Moroccan road travel. Allah willing, I would survive. One quickly learns they do not exaggerate at the UK Foreign Office.

Marrakech, or Morocco City, is just about what one expects it to be. I was warned by fellow travelers while in Fes: Fes is tame, Marrakech is crazy. The mule carts and slow paced atmosphere of Fes were replaced by bicycles, mopeds, scooters, cars, even trucks in the Marrakech alleys and narrow streets (ha ha, hardly) of the medina. There is simply no way I can do the place justice, it is chaos on top of a frenzied melange of sights, smells, sounds and...look out!...manic moped riders. Just as you think you’ve seen it all, or enough to suffice for all, there’s more. More of everything to delight and disgust the senses. Marrakech has something for everybody and too much for all.

The maze that is the souks, the scents of grilling uh..meat?...and spices. Place Djemma el Fnaa which by day is all Henna tattoos, “Straight from the Castro District” wildly costumed water sellers, random monkey trainers, and snake charmers becomes at night all that and an outdoor café. From fresh orange juice to snail soup to grilled head of sheep. Hmm, cheeks! It’s an amazing sight but still a bit tame compared to what I read about and came to expect. Then again, I live in Frisco...ain’t too much that surprises me anymore. Marrakech was a city to just experience. The vibrant colors, the light in the souks, the smells...always the smells. They have no real treasures, no famous museums or sights, it’s not Florence or Paris. It’s Marrakech and you simply immerse yourself in the roiling stew that is their everyday life. Then, you take a long shower to remove the layers of dust, mud, dung, and assorted treats of the medina.

It was time to leave Maroc, and I was filled with conflicting thoughts. One, get me out of here and in one piece as the airport was in veritable lock-down, full of grim machine gun toting gendarmes and bomb-sniffing dogs. Two, what a fascinating and exotic place this was, how neat it is to while a way the hours taking it all in. One won...get me back to London! Au revoir Morocco, you haven’t seen the last of Monsieur midnite.

One night in London and my itinerary had been set months in advance. A visit to my favorite fish ‘n chips shop in the land and a few sublime cocktails at my favorite Trader Vic’s. I am easy to please. Just to show what a small world it can be, I was walking down Baker Street on my way to Golden Hinde for my supper when I spied in my periphery a woman rather wildly (“Hey, it’s Paul!”) greeting a man who was walking toward me. Friends randomly meeting on the street I thought...until the guy spoke and I could tell he did not know this woman but was rather graciously introducing himself and asking from where she came. It most certainly was Paul, Sir Paul McCartney. I saw Paul McCartney walking down Baker Street! I had my camera with me, was ready to say “Ahoy ahoy” to the ole Beatle, maybe catch a snappy of the two of us. But man, I was hungry and Golden Hinde and its fabulous fried treasures were still a good five minute walk away. Catch ya next time Macca!

That’s about it for now. Maybe some other time I can relate the story of the veiled woman who assaulted a crew member on my flight from Marrakech to Gatwick, the tree climbing goats near Essaouira, and the best way to remove mule poop from linen trousers.

The long and winding road indeed.

Mara Salama

Bravo! Thanks for sharing your tales so eloquently. Whew - What a ride!!

Jeez, I'm exhausted. Vicariously living through midnite's trip reports. A man I haven't met, yet I love your humor and look forward to your next adventure. Hmmmm... where to next? Do they even know what a club sandwich is in Kabul?

THE BAY AREA 2007

You never know what you have until you lose it. Believe me, becasue this is coming from someone who once had such a head of hair, in high school I was called "Rick Springfield". Accordingly, it took a visit from my tiki-loving nephew, Rick, to teach this ole traveler that one needn't go too far in order to find adventure and tiki treats, if not a classic club sandwich. As one never truly knows how long one has left, here, there...anywhere, it's about time we see what good old Frisco has to offer. The grass is not always greener, unless of course one goes to the exotic tropical environs of Fruitvale. Yes, this will all make sense, maybe.

Richard, whose participation in my journeys has already been documented in these pages, scored extra points by actually doing what few others in my family do (go figure)...he came to visit me! Along with his love, the lovely Kylie, the young tiki fiend flew on out from sunny Madison, WI to see the sites, San Francisco style. I had a spot of free time so I tagged along for a bit in order to see my fair hometown through the eyes of a traveler. Eeek, this place can be scary!

We took in the curvy part of Lombard. Now I know what those people are always asking me about my street! A visit to Fisherman's Wharf was also in order where I found a boat called "Menehune" but little else that warrants mentioning. There was a lot of other stuff that looked rather altogether too familiar. Enough touristy trash, let's hit SF's Trader Vic's. We took in the waters, and had dinner, too. Sadly, a certain favorite bar manager has moved on to (Lone Star) places unknown, thereby taking with him the most glorious of Vic's cocktails: the Stinker a la favorite bar manager. We all shared several fine cocktails, and one other called a "Molokai Mike".

The next day started out at the wonderfully restored Ferry Building, a boat ride around the Bay, and a few hours in charming nearby Sausalito. I pulled a bit of rank and deep-sixed the idea of going to the Oakland A's game...I mean it's Oakland, what's there? So, to make it up to the baseball-loving Kylie & Michelle we walked not an insignificant distance to see Giants park or whatever they're calling the place this week. Next stop would be the mysterious Isle de Alameda and my favorite bar on Lincoln Ave: Susie Q's...whoops, Forbidden Island!

Richard Jr. has read and heard much about the great times and expertly crafted cocktails found at F.I. Now he could take it all in and the only thing in our way was the typically uneventful ride on the AC Transit "O" bus to Alameda. There's some famous quote about the best laid plans of men and heavy drinkers, but I am not sure about the exact wording as my knowledge of architectural drafting is limited.

It's a long story, and considering we bailed mid-plot I don't know how it ends although I can hazard a guess. Let's put it this way: A woman on a nearby bench died while waiting for our same "O" bus. She later came back to life, resurrected if you ask me, through the minimally enthusiastic life-saving efforts of her husband. Local EMT's appeared after said dead, now living, woman boarded our bus. She refused any medical assistance in San Francisco, preferring to travel to Alameda. Shit woman, Martin makes a good Mai Tai, but really, in a fix the Tonga Room will do! The living, dead, Lord knows, gal was barely sporting a diastolic of around 60. She was, minutes earlier, non-responsive and well...let's simply say effed up real bad. Now, all she wanted to do was see Alameda. Dead or Alive? In the face of very stern and repetitive protestations from trained emergency medical technicians she demurred the painfully obvious need for immediate hospitalization. She did not face minimally stern nor even multiple efforts from her husband and friend (?) to seek professional medical help. It all seemed rather curiously suspicious, if you ask me. A legal waiver form was finally signed and we were all on our way to Alameda. Dead or alive.

We made it to Santa Clara/Sherman St, uncomfortably passive hubbie was back to his unique life sustaining method of rubbing her head in a rather distracted fashion. At this point about 90% of the remaining passengers (including us) "Geronimo-ed!" the heck off this "O". I felt bad for the bus driver, and the old woman, but mostly the bus driver. We headed in search of strong drink. Next time, BART!

Forbidden Island was its usual fun self. So many fine drinks were enjoyed, none of which was a Molokai Mike. Richard, a burgeoning cocktail aficionado, declared the signature Forbidden Island and China Clipper as favorites. A Club Sandwich you say, what of the quest? Well, the plan was to visit one of the fine diners on Alameda and take in a Club Sandwich done Alameda-style, but given the events (see above) a few chicken tenders at F.I. would have to suffice. Many thanks to Richard and Kylie for visiting Uncle Midnite and showing him that Frisco can be a wonderful, if quite strange, place. As if I'd forgot that for five minutes.

This past weekend a less eventful journey across the Bay took us to the friendly and tropical environs of the Fruitvale District of Alameda. It was TikiBocce II at Lund Manor. Dig the scene: fabulous cocktails from the Hinky Dinks bar, bocce and the warm hospitality of Lund Manor's host & hostess, Scott and Thayer. I was eager to attend as my expertise in all things bocce is widely unrecognized. Alas, it would mean facing one of my greater fears. No, not social interaction or rabbits, the bamboo craziness! If you know what I am talking about I don't need to go on, and if you don't...you don't want me to go on. I got near it, I even touched it, but I did not sit on it.

The afternoon at Lund Manor was one of the best times I've had in a long while. No Club Sandwiches, but hey...fine cocktails, finer company, and a malice-filled games of bocce. That spells "Good Times" in any language, Kid Dyn-o-mite. I had my eyes on that Grand Prize trophy, but it wasn't meant to be...even with a fortuitous substitution into the finals with McButter Pants himself. There was dancing, many familiar faces, tropical foliage, and a water feature. The Mai Kai Gents supplied their fantastic talents. Did I mention the cocktails? (Maria was stellar mixing those Mai Tais. Martin, hire her if you can) Plus, Mig had a birthday, with a cake!

TikiBocce II was good clean fun. Bocce is a pretty cool game, although I believe my skills may lay in officiating and not participating. Tofu Joe and Haole'akamai's skills are definitely entertaining. Lessons learned: One, there's a lot fun things to see and do right in your own backyard. Two, there's a lot more fun things to do in Lund Manor's backyard. Three, when the paramedic says go to the hospital don't listen to the apathetic spouse: go!

Red Rolls!
Captain Midnite, Mr. Mahalo

I noticed this page became rather cumbersome, heavy on the snappies. So, I moved Germany v England to the next page. Gotta keep things orderly and such, they dig that in Germany.

Meanwhile, it looks like Vic wins, as no one else bothered to play. Wasn't that hard, there we are, right there, plain as day.

Tiki prize for JT!

el midnite

[ Edited by: midnite_tiki 2007-06-20 12:59 ]

Darned you Captain Midnite! You've ignited the travel bug in me AGAIN. Now I'm jonesin for European jaunt...ah light yucky domestic beer budget at the moment and all...

Wow, great pics. Looks like another wonderful trip. Hey, did ya find your club sandwich this time? Welcome back oh dark one. :wink:

Oh, Midnite, you are such the gladfly....

On 2007-06-18 11:50, midnite_tiki wrote:
Yes, that makes six consecutive nights at a Trader Vic's. No, I don't have a problem. Heck, upon my return I was tempted to have the driver stop at SF Vic's on my home from the airport, but Lars is gone to the Big D and I thought seven would be excessive. Six nights in a row? A man about town, solo world traveler, sophisticated drinking veteran of Polynesian cocktails the globe over. Seven? Sad and pathetic drinking alone and bothering the help.

Seven's the key number here. Think about it.
Seven Elevens. Seven Dwarves. Seven, man, that's the number!
Seven chipmunks twirlin' on a branch,
Eatin' lots of sunflowers on my Uncle's ranch.
You know that old children's tale from the sea?!

ENGLAND v. GERMANY 2007

Well, this ought to be fun. No history there, eh?

Who's better, who's best? The Who, that's who! The first stop in this two week multi-country excursion was Southampton...England's famous port city. I'm all for port cities but I came down South for one reason: The Who 2007. The band of my formative years, I'd last seen them on their first/last "Farewell Tour" in 1982. Now, twenty-five (shit!) years later I'm standing out on a sports field (cricket) watching what's left of my favorite band. I was a wee midnite of 16 when I last saw these geezers live and now I am older than they were back in '82. Some seriously significant aspects to such a set of circumstances, but hey, this is me we're talking about. Did I tell you who I stood next to during the Magic Numbers' opening set?

Southampton rocks...met up with some friends from the UK, saw Pete & Roger, ate at TGI Friday's. Ok, two out of three ain't bad Southampton.

BERLIN

One more capital of Europe for the list and this was a special one: Berlin. The visit too brief, the weather a bit gloomy. Nonetheless, Berlin is a great place, I'm going to get back there soon. So much history, so much to see. Let's go to Vic's! I keed, pretty much. Along with London, Berlin was one of those places wherein I'd stop and think "Whoa, there's _____" and gaze upon some landmark or vista from history. Brandenburg, Reichstag, Checkpoint Charlie, the Wall. Interesting place, and even after 14 years or so of unification the stark differences between West-East are thought provoking. Thoughts like, "The Iron Curtain was a bummer, let's go to Vic's." Two nights in a row, Hans!

So, Vic's it is. Boy howdy, and a nice Vic's it is. One large room, dining and bar areas clearly defined. I liked the decor, more traditional than I expected. The blue mood lighting in the bar was uber cool. Damn it Janet, I like this Vic's...and not just because they have a great Happy Hour: five signature Vic's cocktails at 6E each and free food! Good news, business was pretty light, so I had plenty of time to chat up the bartenders/waiters. The bad news: business was light. One side note of interest to maybe one person: Like SF Giants color commentator Mike Krukow, my ably skilled bartender from Turkey, Szabo, enjoys his Bonnie Tyler tunes. Want a heavy-handed pour in your Zombie? Throw in an aside about the deep and resonant pipes of that Welsh girl singer.

Big, bustling, cosmopolitan, and exciting. Berlin is a great city. Superb cocktails at Vic's. No club sandwiches, but I sampled the Curry Wurst.

MUNCHEN

When one thinks of Germany I am guessing this is what comes to mind. Bavaria's finest, the jewel that is Munich. It truly is a beautiful city, and it is a favorite place to live for Germans. I can see why: fabulous parks, wonderful architecture, people friendly city planning. I took in the sites via Mike's Bike Tours of Munchen, a great time and highly recommended. I even went off to the Bavarian Alps with them and took in the famous castle and surrounding areas of Neuschwanstein. Hiked up the long way along the waterfall gorge, took some pretty snappies, had a myocardial infarction...or two. Also got to enjoy the world's WORST club sandwich at the small and usurious cafe connected to Mike's tour. Yes, the quest is over, at least for its negative definitional aspect. God Almighty, if I ever have a poorer excuse for a club I'll know I have died and gone to.....whew, I could use some ice water.

Munich is ok, I'd doubt I'd feel the desire to return but for what is arguably the finest Trader Vic's one will ever encounter...apart from London. I have been eager to visit the Munich Vic's since I first saw pictures of the place. Mr Kirsten's expert opinion held some weight as well. This is it, Vic's as it was and should always be: a lone stairway to the subterranean space, numerous small dark rooms to explore, decor from exotic locales. Sublime. Glorious. Fukkin' Ayy! If, like yours truly, you like Trader Vic's then get a packing and get to Munich 'cause this is it. The place, the Vic's...the best. Along with London, that is.

I spent three straight nights at Munich's Vic's. The manager and staff were welcoming and accepting to my enthusiastic photo-taking and fervent proclamations of love for their place of work. I spent a goodly amount of time talking cocktails with Joe, the thirty-year veteran of mixology at this Vic's. The man is an artist and I was honored to get completely rat-arsed from his productions. After I imbibed in the Munich Sour and Rum Cosmo I left it up to him. Joe was my cocktail navigator on this leg of the journey. He set a course for Scorpion and then, as he put it, "This will will make you happy" Tiki Puka Puka. Oh yes, happy indeed! Joe was a highlight of my travels and worth the price of a trip to Munich alone.

Hanging at the bar in Munich's Vic's, enjoying a finely crafted cocktail, and then discussing drinks with the very expert who made it for you. If you're an old rummy like me, it does not get much better.

LONDON LUAU 007

Ahhh-Hoooo, back in London. Oh, and not for just any rum-soaked stop at Vic's either. This was special, like special Luau 007, The London Luau! Yes, that makes six consecutive nights at a Trader Vic's. No, I don't have a problem. Heck, upon my return I was tempted to have the driver stop at SF Vic's on my home from the airport, but Lars is gone to the Big D and I thought seven would be excessive. Six nights in a row? A man about town, solo world traveler, sophisticated drinking veteran of Polynesian cocktails the globe over. Seven? Sad and pathetic drinking alone and bothering the help.

The longest damn tiki trip of the year ended up at the superbly hosted London Luau. London, tiki, cocktails, Trader Vic's, drinks, art, fun entertainment, rum yummys. Hey, how come I didn't attend these before!?! I got there for the festivities Saturday at Vic's and was able to meet, via my seating at the "Tiki International" table, many new/old/special tiki mates. I know them, I love them, just never met them in person! Good times, good time indeed, Jimmy Walker. I dug the art show and market at the Truman Brewery. Bo and his orchestra, from Sweden no less, were fantastic. Sunday at Trailer Happiness was a highlight, once I could find the place, that is. This was my kind of Tiki Event, Anjy! Plus, I was able to enjoy two of the finer Clubs one will score in the UK. At the Park Tower, 86 the fried egg, dig the grilled chicken and chips, enjoy the view over the West End...oh yeas, midnite likes!

Ya know, these UK tiki brethren of ours, they do a bang up job. Cheekytiki, and Patrick from London Vic's, put on a great show. The tiki folk over there may not have the numerous tiki assets we have here in the States, but they do a lot with what they got. There are some serious tiki artists, fans, connesoiurs over there. Heck, a couple of these fellows even made it to Hukilau just four days after the London Luau. Talk about dedication, they got it, in spades. Pound for pound, the weight not the Sterling, the Britiki contingent are tough to beat, tiki-wise. They know their stuff, enjoy it deeply, and are doing great things to keep the theme and aesthetic alive. Doing tiki in Florida or Southern Cal is easy, try it in foggy old London town. Well, they do, and they do it well.

Look out, guv'nor! Ya shalln't keep this roaming yank (sounds like fun) from London Luau '08. Ahh-hoooo!

FINAL SCORE

Germany: Berlin, wow. Munich Trader Vic's, double secret wow.
England: My tiki mates in the UK. London Vic's. Club Sandwich at Sheraton Park Tower.

Let's call it a draw and all get along. There's enough tiki love to spread around! London or Munich Trader Vic's...you cannot make me pick between the two. I'll see ya back at both. I'll be sitting at the bar, the hairy-handed gent, looking at a map, wondering where I am.

Heh, draw blood!
midnite

Hey midnite... absolutely agree... London and Munich TV are both fab. I couldn't choose either.

Pittsburgh 2007

Sweet Home Pennsylvania....(turn it up)

Going home to see some kin, yes. That's right, I may be a Florida-born cracker like many members of a certain Southern Rock band, but the rest of my familia: all Steel Town Natives. Heck, even my Dad, the ole Sarge, although born in Czechoslovakia, actually spent most of his formative years in Pittsburgh. So, I'm coming home to you, Pennsylvania.

Last time I was in Pittsburgh was exactly thirty years ago and a lot has changed. Then again, a lot has not. New generations have come and older ones have gone. The city has transformed from steel & factories to medicine & universities. The purpose of this particular trek? See some family, see if this midnite can return to the Mother, and sort of Father...land, as a resident. Can the hills of Frisco be swapped for the hills of the 'burgh? I guess, I don't know, sure? Now, where's the sandwiches, Hon?

Sandwiches, you say? Lordy, the ole steel town is a mecca for thrilling works in the bread & cold cuts arts. Leading the pack is, while not a conventional club, an exciting and adventurous treat: the Primanti Brothers signature, uh, sand... sandwic...meal! It's big, messy, and an experience on many sensory fronts. Blue collar, rough, not for the feint of heart...it says "Pitts-burgh" and says it loudly. I enjoyed it, but my palate leans toward the traditional, the classic, the club. More on that, later.

Considering a sandwich is but one part of a balanced diet and can account for only two, perhaps four, of the day's meals, there's got to be more to see and consider before moving to a new city. See and consider we did: The incline (shit, that's steep!), the dramatic skyline, the many diverse neighborhoods. Saw my late Uncle's name on a WWII memorial. Crossed the Clemente Bridge (my baseball hero) and made a wonderful discovery in the Strip District: Klavon's. If I felt about ice cream sundaes like I do about club sandwiches I would've submitted my job application on the spot, have them pay me in desserts, and instruct them to bury me out back when the Grim Reaper strikes me down. The place is a heaven on Penn Ave for ice cream/soda shop devotees. Plus, they sell candy cigarettes! Good sandwiches, a real vintage era soda shop...this town is looking a-ok, and I'm stay-n-cool.

We took in some cultural sites as well. The Pittsburgh Museum (stellar, even if connected to the Heinz klan) and that little museum dedicated to the work of my Dad's old neighbor: Andrew Warhola. Got lucky and caught a Buc's game at PNC Park, which is an incredible baseball park, that hosts a really bad team...hmm, no change from Frisco! Ya know, Pittsburgh's a cool city, not too big, lots of character, loads of "my people" (Oily Bo-Hunks)....and affordable real estate. Traffic's a problem, as are the taxes, and I don't think the weather stays sunny, around 74 degrees, with low humidity, all year long. Nonetheless, it's definitely a keeper for the "Where's Midnite?" game in early '08.

Tiki? Why yes, sort of, I think. Pittsburgh is home to a newish tiki bar, named, logically, "Tiki Lounge." The fates did not work in my favor and the closest I got to the place was out front a few hours before they would open. That was a disappointment as this watering hole has received some favorable reviews and a decent spot to score a well-made cocktail is a bit important to this old rummy. Here's a collage of exterior shots. I suppose I have another reason to return to Pittsburgh. See ya next time, Tiki Lounge!

Overall, it was a one heck of a trip. I saw some family I had not seen in decades. Won two out of three arm wrestling with my 85 year-old Aunt Mary. Spent some time with my even older Uncle hearing about the town in Slovakia where he and my Dad were born, watching him draw a crude map as he spoke. The pencil jumped from one spot to another on the page as he recalled this field, that building. It's almost eighty years since he's been there, but I could see on his face he was reliving it all as he put pencil to paper. Those enchanting few moments listening to my Uncle John describe that little town will be a memory which stays with me for a long long time.

Club Sandwich? Oh yeah, one more item in Pitt's favor. As pictured above from the Westin, more of a turkey BLT than traditional Club. Still, we're really only talking about an extra slice of bread. It's a fine club, substantial, well made....tasty. That's a sandwich that could pick me up when I'm feeling blue.

I liked that club. I liked Pittsburgh. I'd better, as it is, in many ways, home.

Tell the truth,
cyptyn mydnyt

But who will be my TikiBocce partner in '08? :(

Ray,
Alameda is calling you, with open arms. Have you guys ever considered coming to The Island? Even though it is a long and arduous journey from the curvy enclaves of San Francisco, you will probably find it more affordable than said Sinewy Street. Or, perish the thought, check out some of the surrounding areas in Oaktown? Even when lockouts cause the garbage to pile up in the heat of the summer, the stench only adds to the atmosphere. And the aroma only helps to cover up the fact that the murder rate is down, and potentially undervalued property values will rise in the future. I'm sure that a crack house in the 'hood would be quite affordable, and think how grateful the neighborhood will be when you fix it up. Also, a few formerly rough areas are now up and coming, especially the Fruitvale district, which is right across the bridge from Alameda.

Speaking of Alameda, have you tried the club sandwich at Jim's Coffee Shop? It's magically delicious! Maybe one of the best eateries on The Island, or in the Bay Area. Jim's is down the street from Forbidden Island, on Lincoln Ave at Park St. Yet another great thing in Alameda that you may have overlooked in your hasty quest to look for greener pastures, or club sandwiches.

Besides, where else but in Alameda can you get a cocktail from arguably the best new Tiki Bar on this planet, mixed up by your favorite bartender, brought to you by your favorite waitress and Tiki Bocce Tournament Hostess, and served to you in your favorite Surf Green Fugu Mug? A mug which arguably belongs to me. But I'll be nice and share.

"It's Mai Tai. It's out of this world." - Victor Jules Bergeron Jr.

[ Edited by: Mai Tai 2007-07-14 18:44 ]

Arizona 2007

Hey, did somebody step on a duck?

At one point in my addled existence I rather proficiently chased a wee ball around the verdant fairways of Southern California and Arizona. However, those were the old days when I used to could. Now, I chase club sandwiches with a tropical beverage chaser. Still, I hate to have a year go by with no golf. So, I winged it down Phoenix way to play, or at least fake my way through, a few holes. Word to the wise: If you break a window with a solidly hit but otherwise errant shot the homeowner must witness you doing the deed to assert your liability. Who, me?

Lordy, it's hot down here! Too hot. Anywho, my game is mucho grande rusty so let's grab some lunch at the 19th hole (the only one I parred). Lunch at the Phoenician is the aforementioned chicken club...seasoned poultry & spicy bacon deliciousness. Very good, and when you dine outside the food stays nice and warm. While in Phoenix I was able to score, with the help of my connected sister, some sweet seats to the Diamondbacks game. Great stadium, one more off that list, too. It was trucker hat give-away night...my luck is truly boundless.

Golf, hot, club sandwich, Phoenician, super hot...blah blah. We’ve heard it all before. Alrighty, how 'bout some tiki with my first ever visit to Scottsdale's Trader Vic's? Yessir, that's one more off the list toward the goal of visiting every Trader Vic's on the planet. Must say I was a bit trepidatious before my visit. I'd heard some conflicting reports on the place. But hey, can it be worse than Frisco? Well, from the huge Marquesan tiki standing as a lone sentinel out front to the glass enclosed room of Chinese ovens I liked this Vic's. No, I really dug it, Moondoggy. I've been to my share of Vic's and this is what I'd like to see for the more modern variations on the Vic's theme. It works and quite well at that.

As I bounded about the place in my snappy golfwear taking copious snappies and oggling the digs, my sister chatted up the bar staff. She urgently explained to them why the goofball she was with was acting like such a...goofball. Hey, not goof...it's "golf" ball. Ok, I was a bit goofy, goofy from the ungodly heat. A delicious and quick, maybe too quick, Tiki Puka Puka and all was much better. The Tortuga, not a drink for the feint of palate, was so-so. My sis enjoyed her Mai Tai and seemed to like Vic's as well, notwithstanding her drinking company.

Great decor. I dig the brown, tan, and reddish stonework throughout. The bar "drum" tables are a sleek yet fun detail. The outside areas looked inviting, but not when it is 109 in the shade for crissakes. Loads of bamboo and my favorite PNG masks. Some cool tikis, especially my trio of faves inside the reception area. It's Trader Vic's meets 1950's modern with a taste of 21st Century aesthetic. I would not complain if this were my local Trader Vic's. The staff was friendly and competent. Our bartender knew what he was doing along with enough about the menu/history to hold a good conversation. That may seem a perfunctory, if not requisite, trait for Vic's bartenders but sometimes it is absent.

This part of Arizona is not new to me, but the new Vic's surely makes the place more attractive. Seeing Vic’s back in the Valley of the Sun is great as it was one of the few locations I had any history with before the great purge of the 90's. To shockingly bad golf (nowadays) and decent club sandwiches one can add a fine Trader Vic's as reasons to make Phoenix a travel destination for me. Just travel though? Come on, they have a nice Vic’s, good sandwiches, a decent baseball team. I do know the area, hmm? Maybe, perhaps, wait a sec...nahhhh! No way. The heat, it is dry but it’s still 112!

Be the ball,
cpt.midnite

Great photos. I love Arizona. I love arizona golf tours. I can relax at the Chaparral Suites, located minutes from Old Town Scottsdale and play many rounds of Foothills Golf Club, Stonecreek Golf Club, and Rancho Manana Golf Club. They are the best.

BOSTON '07

As the season turns from Summer's sweat on the melon to Autumn's frost on the pumpkin, travel plans take a backseat to other priorities. Still, a ramblin' man has to ramble just a wee bit. So, with that in mind let's head back to New England in search of good sandwiches and a taste of tiki. Like my days up North clubbing baby Harp Seals the trip was a bit hit and miss.

First off it was a brief stay in Boston, a city dear to my heart, but totally big diggin' to my stomach. Why? Well, Boston, in my addled mind, has some of the best food in the land. After too many hours on a red-eye to Logan the first thing I do is head to Hook...James Hook. Home of the best retail/wholesale lobster trade in town and makers of a very respectable Lobster Roll. Yes, some tasty Hook fare was on the menu for breakfast. It ain't a club, but it is a lobster roll. Not to be outdone in the "you must eat here" genre, Turner Fisheries clam chowder was a pre-lunch treat. My cholesterol level was nearing "pudding" so I opted against the cheesecake trifecta for dessert. Next time I'll do a couple of Jumping Jacks and will be good to go.

The too brief stop in Bean Town was followed by a few days out in Central Mass for some good old American pigskin fun. My boys were playing ball, and this time (one time ever, actually) they were on opposing sides. I couldn't lose, it was a special uncle midnite day to see a two of my nephews lace 'em up and battle it out. Massachusetts was beautiful this time of year and I was quite fortunate to catch the Fall colors in all their splendor. Unfortunately, a side trip to Kowloon was not in the offing and since nearby Worcester's tiki landscape is now barren it looked pretty grim tiki-wise for this trip. My tiki cocktail-loving nephew Richard took it upon himself to mix up some homemade Mai-Tais. The effort was commendable but when working with fewer than the recommended ingredients the results can be a mixed bag.

With that in mind how about some recent Bay Area tiki fun with a twist on the usual travel theme? Team midnite, after a too long absence, made a happy return to Forbidden Island in order to welcome a UK TC'er for his first-time visit to the mysterious Isle de Alameda. Yes, Tikiracer made it all the way from the UK (via So Cal) to take in some Bay Area tiki fun. It was all hands on deck to make sure he was given the full treatment. No, those are not all Steve's cocktails either, the water was mine. This would be a memorable, and firey, Wednesday at Forbidden Island. A fine, mixed by Martiki himself, Ohana Hut mystery bowl (warm, too) was presented and good times were had by all. It was great to see Steve on this side of the world, his cheerful presence was enjoyed by all (and that's not just because he came bearing gifts).

It was good clean fun, until Mai Tai broke out the straws.

As a bit of historical reference examine the photo of Red Buttons, award-winning comedic actor and early participant/proponent of long-distance straw drinking:

While not a fully sanctioned sport, it does have its committed followers (some would say groupies even) and one of its stars is our own Mai "NAFTA McButterpants" Tai. Bill wowed us all with a stunning display of sucking acumen. Do peruse the collage of his suctioning skill. Mai Tai put on a show. The straw tally increased, two...four...more!...ending in an other-wordly eight straw suck-tacular that had many gasping in horror. Or awe, not sure really. It was messy, and a bit disturbing, but it was nothing if not captivating. So much so that many joined in on the fun, even Tikiracer himself had to show what the British Empire could still offer, sucking-wise.

Good times, good times...and it was only the pre-Crawl warm up night. The year is coming to a close and the holidays beckon. Soon, we'll be following the bright star to seek out what could be the greatest "midnite" tiki/club sandwich experience of all.

Quicksand!
midnite

VENICE: CHRISTMAS 2007

We close the year with a Christmas visit to La Serenissima, one week in the pearl that is Venice, Italy. This would be our second trip to Venice. I could easily visit once a year, at least. Few spots on the planet have had this much impact on me. It is, in my reasonably travelled opinion, the most beautiful city on Earth. Sigh, if they only had a Trader Vic's. Although, in a pinch some fine tropical long drinks can be had...more on those later.

Yes, Venice. I'll simply let my photographs tell the tale. I find it difficult to adequately describe the beauty, the emotions, the sense of grandeur and history one feels walking it's seemingly endless alleys and foot bridges. I get all weepy just thinking of the place. Plus, they got some primo club sandwiches...more on that later.

Ahh, what a trip. Venice does not burst at the seams with Christmas spirit like Vienna did. This is Venice, it simply doesn't need to. Still, a special highlight was Midnight Mass at St. Mark's. Ethereal and evocative, the Basilica provided a timeless stage for the proceedings. As a plus, the Cardinal gave me the ole nod and blessing as he walked by me on his way to the altar. So, I got that going for me.

As we wrap up 2007, and what a year it was, we look forward to many safe and sound adventures in 2008. Let's take the opportunity to recap the general theme herein. Yes, it is a quest for the greatest cub sandwich but it is much more as I hope my posts have communicated. There's cocktails, too! Also, while the sandwiches are individually judged it is not in essence a competition. No, this is about pure enjoyment, not winners and losers per se. That said, my initial visit to Venice in 2005 presented with it the, at that time, best club sandwich I have ever had. From room service at the Hotel Danieli came the most exquisite and mind-blowing fantabulous sandwich. It was, in a word, heaven. I loved that sandwich, so perfect in every way. One can imagine then my wild anticipation for this return visit to Venice. The eternal beauty that is Venice and the finest club sandwich I've ever enjoyed. Oh la la!

Alas, all does not glitters that is aluminum and all things must pass...Go. It seems the Danieli has hired some new cooks for in-room dining and they took it upon themselves to change the vaunted club. First, they served it with...gasp...potato chips! Ok, upon ordering the second time round that faux pas was rectified. Still, what was mana from heaven is now simply a fine, and expensive, sandwich from room service. It is good, perhaps great, but it is not what it once was. Garbo ages, glory fades, things change. Damn it!

Yes, the sandwich disappoints, but the cocktails await. During our visit in 2005 I strolled over to the Bar Dandolo and spied their extensive cocktail menu. Lord have mercy, they serve a Mai Tai, in Venice no less! I did not partake in the waters during that stay, but I knew on this trip I must try it. Yes, damn the Euros, full imbibing ahead! So, it's the most expensive Mai Tai I have seen, what am I going to do, order a Bellini? No, that is not a typo, nineteen...don't do the conversion or look at my Amex bill if you have a heart condition. It was fair, somewhat a bit below good, enjoyable nonetheless.

The club sandwich let down of the Danieli had a silver lining, or so it seemed, as we were changing hotels in mid-visit and thus would have a another bite at the apple, so to speak. Off to ole the Doge's place for round two. Oh Jesus weeps, it got no better, and much more expensive. No fries, not even potato chips...and cough...wheeze...hack...they used chicken salad. Shudder. Weeping, I quickly assumed the fetal position and questioned my place in the universe. Luckily, fair Michelle had ordered a cheeseburger. We swapped plates, my spirits, while down, were not broken.

No, because like dear old Mom would say, "Pull up your socks and get drinking!" We adjourned to the Gritti's jewel of a drinking hole, Bar Longhi. This place is without a doubt one of the greatest cocktail bars the world over. I recall few times I've enjoyed more than our visits to this bar. Spent one of my best Christmas Nights ever enjoying the decor, the drinks, the old tunes. No Mai Tai, but I did try the Planter's Punch. It was quite good, actually. However, Michelle was convinced to try the Corto Maltese and what a treat it is, a new favorite. So good in fact I had two more the following night. I ended Christmas 2007 with an Old Fashioned, toasting to good times, good company, and good drinks. Mom would have been so proud.

Ciao, Venice. The quest shall continue. In the end all that matters is you enjoy the journey. Here's to 2007, from North Africa to Steel Town USA and everywhere in between it was quite a ride.

Cheers!
midnite

Great pics, Ray! Ah, Venice calls to me - it's been a while. Oh, and don't forget, your 2007 journeys aren't over with, yet! You still have to make that long odyssey today, on numerous public transit systems, including the train that goes underwater. See you at the best tiki bar on earth, to ring in the New Year!

Oh, and what, no critiquing of the club sandwich at Jim's Coffee Shop in Alameda? What is that, like chopped liver? :wink:

CENTRAL VALLEY ROAD TRIP

San Francisco days, San Francisco nights.

Sure, the City is nice and all, but one seeks something more. Someplace exotic, interesting, full of intrigue and exciting times. Someplace flat.

The Central Valley is calling. So, come out of the cupboard team midnite did, boys and girls. It was a rippin' good time, full of fine cocktails and finer company. No zombies, of death or otherwise, but there were several Hurricanes and at least one Jerk.

Team midnite drove east to experience the best the Central Valley had to offer tiki-wise. A special, and surprisingly expensive, treat of a weekend out Ripon way. Why did I not think of this before? That thought certainly dominated after the fine hosting by the proprietors of the Dark Marq. Mixologist extraordinaire The Drunken Hat and the always winsome Tikicleen provided us with warm hospitality of the highest order. Scott made some exceedingly fine beverages, including but not limited to, my most favorite tiki drink of all: Puka Punch! Expertly mixed, adroitly presented. Plus, he sings!

After one excellent "Blackbeard's Ghost" at the Dark Marq we motored over to Modesto's gem: Minnie's. I had never been there as it is far. Minnies Modesto was an experience, nonpareil. I don't think there is any single category for Minnie's, it's sort of a one-off. A classic for sure. One can actually feel the history of the place. Accompanied by Scott and Colleen we were lucky to get the royal treatment, including place mats! The drinks were a bit of a let down, especially after tasting The Hat's work, but they were enjoyed nonetheless. I knew better than to order a Jerk, but Ms. Cleen is entirely too persuasive. We did eat half our weight in Minnie's fare while sitting under some of the best Burke Tyree velvets I have ever seen. No club sandwiches, but who can complain when dining with fine company, in such a storied room, surrounded by beautiful art?

Yes, I have a soft spot, in my wallet, for that artwork. I was lucky, having Cleen and Hat helped immeasurably, to acquire one of the best Tyree oils at Minnnie's. Purchasing the piece from Stuart was easy, the difficult part was getting Ms. Cleen to relinquish the painting. She has a real greedy streak for those things, like some character from that famous children's book "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory". Veruca Salt? No, sorry, Charlie.

We bid farewell to Minnie's and headed down the no-cruising zone to The Tiki and its fine lodging neighbor (The Tropics) Rodeway Inn. Well, THAT was pretty interesting. On one hand, a stroll through the Rodeway Inn parking area at 10pm. On the other, a stroll through The Tiki. Hobbesian? No shit. Although, The Tiki was warmly comfortable for some reason. My curiosity piqued, we headed back to much more inviting environs in Ripon.

Ripon calling, yeah, I was there, too. Tiki, cocktails, art, great company. The best! It will forever be a special memory for yours truly, and the fine Tyree oil now in the collection will be a reminder of the good times. The Central Valley can be a real hoot, or hoopt for that matter.

After all this won't you give me a smile?
Le midnite

...the club sandwich at Jim's Coffee Shop in Alameda? What is that, like chopped liver?

Ahoy, William. Jim's is a decent club, quite tasty and fully capable of satisfying a late night sandwich craving. Say, after a night of imbibing at Forbidden Island. You're familiar that bar, right? However, I'm a Tillie's man, even if I'm just a young'n there demographic-wise.

On 2008-01-15 00:59, midnite_tiki wrote:

After all this won't you give me a smile?
Le midnite

Does that mean that London's Calling, Midnite?? Are we going to see you soon this side of the pond?

Alameda, Richmond, Los Gatos, Emeryville, San Pablo, Oakland '08

I have got to get a better travel agent.

To show not all great travel must be long distance, and that not all short trips are lower-priced, let's review the last month or so midnite out-and-about-wise. I've lived up here in the Bay Area for over 15 years now and I saw things this week I had never seen before. I am not just talking about Jelly Bean Roulette, either. One shot. That's what it's all about. One shot.

Some time back, oh, I cannot recall exactly when, it began with a fine evening of libations in Alameda. It was a dark and stormy night, plus the weather was sort of bad, too. Other than some vision problems it all went well, indeed. The weekend came and it was time to visit Richmond (where?) and experience the sale of a lifetime. How better to top of a day of spending than an afternoon of eating a fine club sandwich and a night of high times atop a mountain down South, Los Gatos way. Tikitastic's place is almost beyond description, it is tikifabulous!

Round two, I'm really a lightweight and this is starting to affect me, finds us back in Richmond. How much of a Trader Vic's fan boy am I? I'll tell you how much. Exhibit A: me walking back to BART lugging a goodly portion of the wall covering from San Francisco Trader Vic's men's room that I just had to have. Sure, I could have taken a cab, but that would have prevented my making many new "friends" along the way. "Why no, this did not come off your truck and 'double no' to discussing the matter any further. Also, I live in an apartment, not a homes. Good day to you, sir."

My new bathroom decor safely back in Frisco I of course had to accompany Mai Tai back to Richmond several hours later. Why? Why not! Plus, we ended a few hours spent in Trader Vic's warehouse with a visit to Emeryville Trader Vic's for cocktails and dinner. That's what we call a consistency of commitment, in fan boy circles. The DSM of Mental Disorders, 4th ed., has a differing notation, but I digress. Truly, where else would I go if I wanted my picture taken next to the Moai that sat out front of the Palmer House Hilton, home to the former Chicago's Trader Vic's? Sheese, as if!

What day is it, where am I? Simply guess Richmond, it's a safe bet this week. Oh, and back on the Isle de Alameda to learn more about rum with Ed Hamilton. Why do I need to learn more? I know I like it, I know where to buy it, and where to put it. There's a club sandwich involved? I am so there. The week ends (sort of) with the new Tiki Moving Lines operated by three strapping lads with too much time on their hands. Chicks dig heavy lifters, or so I am told. As the Trader Vic's sale ended we Tres Amigos headed out to deliver tiki goodies to several well-known locations. As many will leave a snack of cookies and milk for Santa on Christmas Eve, an even better treat was awaiting us back at tiki base camp: Forbidden Island. Perhaps the best, at least the second best, Mai Tai one will ever imbibe, made by none other than Mai Tai Jim. That figures, eh? The old Trader would be very proud. Plus, I now know what I am ordering from the warden right before they walk me that lonely mile to pay for my various crimes against humanity...and fashion.

It has been a week, no, month, for the tiki/travel/collecting highlight reel and I haven't even covered it all. I am not sure I could repeat it nor even if I'd wish to. All I know is while I did not travel great distances I sure as heck spent enough to travel someplace far far away. Say, like China for instance. Why go to the Far East, though? All the Chinese Trader Vic's have closed and the East Bay has much better people. Although, when at all possible do not drive (lost) around Richmond in an open convertible with Wham! blasting on the stereo while wearing loud Hawaiian shirts, discussing whose "pole" is better. That'd be mine. As if!

Oh, and Jim's in Alameda is winning the best club sandwich on the island sweepstakes.

I need a nap, just a wee break. I'll will be ready to go out soon, just wake me up before you go-go...
midnite

Ahoy hoy, anyone home?

One would, ostensibly, hope to see some actual travel reportage round here. I mean, really now, isn't it about time to get out and about? Fucking ay! Therefore, I present the month of tiki travel, May 15-June 16th, a four-part travelogue brought to you by your intrepid sandwich fan boy.

Installment One: A Nephew Grads in Fitchburg

We start the month of tiki traveling with a warm send-off at Alameda's finest, your favorite and mine: Forbidden Island. It's going to be a long month and one needs to charge the batteries, prepare for the daunting journeys that await, imbibe. Full speed ahead, damn the Missionary's Downfall, Mai Tais and a blindfold at sunset! That sort of thing. Hey, dig the new F.I. coasters, full of cardboardy goodness. Drink up, for tomorrow we may die....or fly coach.

So, where were we? Yes, one more college graduate in the family. Off to see the festivities Central Massachusetts way, with a brief stop over in Bean town. Wicked good times in store, for sure. Cue the requisite sandwich scene as lunch is served in Copley Square. A glorious lobster roll at Turner Fisheries. Happy, but not yet fully sated as my cholesterol level remained within the "survivable" range I got all Kenny Loggins on myself and headed to the danger zone. Yes, some cheesecake should send me into some form of medical extremis. Further, it has been about fourteen hours since my last cocktail...why not try that Mai Tai at the Cheesecake Factory? Why not, indeed. Traditional? No. Well-made? Somewhat. Tasty? Surprisingly so, in an island/Hawaiian Mai Tai sensibility. Any port in a storm, Magumbo.

Boston rocks, even if I hate them Sawx.

Congratulations and presents are in order as my nephew John does good becoming a member of the Class of 2008. This uncle is so proud. Ahh, it was but twenty years or so ago I made that same walk up to the podium to receive my B.S. Degree. Crikey, someone is getting old, but no wiser. Any-who, it was a beautiful day out Fitchburg way as the family, or a good approximation of the best parts thereof, assembled to witness the ceremony. A weekend of good times ensued as I mixed many a Mai Tai and partook in some serious, if not entirely sanctioned, bocce. This was a brief, yet quite significant, start to the tiki travel month.

The runway's foamed, the wheels are greased, I'm back in the saddle and ready to start the serious stuff. Yes, this was just a wee taste, a gateway trip to the hard stuff.

Chalks out, flaps up!
midnite

Next up, installment two: a super secret solid gold (toy) story.

Installment Two: HUKI NOW*

My personal "Tiki Mecca" is, of course, Alameda's Forbidden Island. She has served me well, been there for me faithfully, religiously quenched the thirst, so to speak. While it is far from my humble abode in Frisco to the exotic Isle de Alameda I have never shied away from making that arduous trek. Yet, as much as I like to think I am one of the faithful, a true believer if you, I have not taken in the waters, made the pilgrimage. I have not drunk from the one true well all tikiphiles should taste at least once in their lifetime. It is time, as I am able-bodied and can afford to do so, to journey to the Mai Kai.

That's right, I've spent countless days roaming the capitals of Europe, luckily missed some suicide boom booms in Casablanca, even survived an afternoon at Walt Disney World, but I never made it to the Mai Kai. "Check his (tiki) papers!", I am sure you're thinking, but I assure you it was purely oversight on my part and not an intentional slight to the Mai Kai. I'd always get there I thought, "next trip" or "real soon." Well, it was time, time...time for Huki Now*!

It was a brief conversation I had with our illustrious proprietor during a sunny Saturday afternoon of Giants baseball that laid the foundation for this one-time-only wild tiki event. Mai Kai next week you say? I have no airline tickets, no room reserved. Hmmm, no problem, see you Wednesday, HL. The fair Michelle and I landed at Lauderdale International at 17:25 and I was sipping a Mai Tai in the Molokai Bar by 18:30.

We walked from the local inn that would be our lodging for the evening and spotted the Mai Kai after but a few minutes out in the humid South Florida air. There it was, just at the bend, barely visible in the tropical greenery, light blue and beckoning...."Mai Kai". I was there, in the middle of a packed Molokai Bar, in the back at that well-known table. The alluring Mai Kai girl brought our Derby Daiquiri and Mai Tai and I sat there, a bit unsettled from the harried nature of a day's cross-country travels, with one thought clear in my mind (paraphrasing another well-known TC member):

"I am STUPID for not coming here before!"

We had two nights, and as much of the cocktail menu as possible to get through. A daunting task, but I'll try....because it is there. We ordered the Pu Pu Platter, the Shanghai Chicken (hat tip to Martin for that call) and a shrimp cocktail. The place was exceeding all my expectations, it was simply put, a tiki palace with no peer. Sometime 'round our second cocktail we were joined by that mysterious man about town, HL. Thus, Huki Now* could begin in earnest.

We drank, and drank some more. The cocktails were being checked off the list like so many non-paying phone company customers: 151 Swizzle? "Disconnect", Jet Pilot? "Disconnect", Mutiny? "Disconnect!" We toured the property, took countless snappies, reveled in the glorious surroundings. We took in the gift shop, drank some more, told tall tiki tales, opened a new tab after losing our first Mai Kai girl to shift change, toured the property again finding yet more treasures. Oh, we drank some more, too. Mara Amu? "Dis-connect"!...We closed the Molokai Bar.

That was fun. No, that was a blast, an evening for the ages. It was Double Isaacs all around! The evening was not yet complete; we had to walk back to the motel. That's another story altogether (Toy or otherwise) and it shall be left for some other time. Things were getting a bit hazey by then (Mai Kai Swizzle? "Dis...Dis-co...Solid Gold!"), and we still had the following evening at the Mai Kai. Suffice is to say, "Hey HL, look at all the pretty purple neon!"

Rather surprisingly, we awoke clear-headed and made it over to our next night's lodging: The Yankee Clipper. I mean, I said it was Huki Now*, right? I wanted to see the Wreck Bar and touch the sand. Simple goals before our final evening at Mai Kai. The Wreck Bar was, putting this carefully, laid out well and appointed nicely (half of it) but was otherwise a disappointment. One cannot win them all. In another time I am sure it was superb. Now? Hardly.

While the fair Michelle and I had planned to take in the Mai Kai floor show the available early seating would have cut into Happy Hour in the Molokai Bar. I had seen quite a bit of the show the night before, so priorities and all...more drinking time in the Molokai it was! We did enjoy a later dinner in one of the back dining rooms, overlooking the gardens, serenaded by a gent playing guitar. He covered many of the classics, all superbly sung, and I think he was better than the typical Mai Kai floor show. The whole dining experience was fantastic. The food's a bit overpriced, but who cares, this is Huki Now*. Another Derby Daiquiri, please!

With our dinner completed it was all engines full ahead for the Molokai Bar. I mean, really, that Mai Kai cocktail menu is lengthy. The dominoes fell, one by one, as I knocked off many of the "Strong" drinks and my first mate Michelle selected the weaker libations. K.O. Cooler? "Disconnect", Shrunken Head? "My cat's name is 'Mittens'!" All in all, seventeen...eighteen?...cocktails enjoyed (roughly half the menu), a notable accomplishment. My thoughts on Mai Kai mixology? Overall, about as good as I have had in any one tiki bar. There were some very good cocktails, a few I'd never revisit. Presentation could be improved and a few were rather(too?) similar in taste, but those were the exceptions. My faves: the Cobra's Kiss and the Shark Bite, with the Bora Bora a strong contender.

We closed the Molokai Bar again. Before we left there was a photo op with the fair Michelle in front of her least favorite and somewhat scary tiki, along the requisite snappie of goofy Tiki dude with bewildered Mai Kai girl. Alas, with that we bid farewell to the Mai Kai. I hope I can see her again, the Mai Kai...not Thuy, our Mai Kai girl. Although, she was a lot of fun as well as quite helpful with the drink selections. The taxi pulled up to the front door, we rolled over the creaky Mai Kai bridge. The taxi driver inquired about the noise (Huh, you never been here before, Cabbie?), and the most spectacular tiki palace the world over was in the rear view mirror.

"What was that, Michelle? Yeah, we're STUPID for never coming here before."

Oh, I took in the club sandwich at The Florida Restaurant aka "Flo's", and it was fine. A-ok in my book, but after one has tasted Shanghai Chicken. Sigh.

Huki Now* was the best of times. Oh sure, a bit expensive, slightly deranged, yet way overdue. Truly, how many times can one travel 1200 miles (sic) on a whim to meet a good friend in the greatest tiki establishment around? Special thanks to HL for getting my lazy butt out there and paricipating in the greatest Huki Now* ever known.

Supplicatingly yours,
cpt. midnite (Florida Native, Mai Kai Pilgrim)

*aka "How I learned to stop worrying and enjoy the Mai Kai Toy Story"

Installment Three: To Luau or not to Luau? has been postponed due to illness. Look for the final installment of the tiki travel month: Farm Fresh and Tiki-fied coming soon!

Edited: Cause I am a perfectshunist!

[ Edited by: midnite_tiki 2008-06-03 01:33 ]