The Parade of Eating Begins!

Clinton Avenue, Brooklyn: 6:35AM.

Walking quickly against a brisk, frigid wind, we pass the brownstones and mansions of Clinton Hill, heading towards the A Train. At Clinton-Washington Avenues, a man in a black, fur-lined jacket stammers out an awkward plea for help, just two dollars. We descend into the subway station, and Catherine has to buy a new Metrocard. The man follows, continues persistently in his quest for a buck. Catherine gives him some of her change, he responds with a "Happy valentines day," reminding us that it is Saturday, February 14th, 2009: V-Day. We realize after swiping her card that we are on the wrong side of the tracks, and crossing quickly over to the other side of the street, we miss the departing train, and the wait begins to drag, as the platform slowly fills with people bound not for the shining city, but for the outer parts of the outer borough. Finally, after twenty minutes, an A train pulls into the station. We take it to Lefferts Boulevard where we wait only a few moments for a Q10 Bus to JFK. It is now 7:45A. We make it to the airport, no issues, and our plane departs at 9:00AM. 

The fun really begins when we reach Detroit. As business-class passengers, we are entitled to access the NW Travelers club, where we drink (excellent) free espressos and eat (mediocre) free cookies. After what seems like no time at all, we are walking back to board our next plane, a Boeing 747 double-decker, bound from Detroit to KIX (Japan). Our seats are on the top level of the plane, in an oval room with oval walls sloping gently inward. It's like being in the top of an egg, and our chairs fit with this analogy. They are futuristic pods that cocoon the seated individual with all the luxuries that are available to the airplane age: Lumbar massagers, LED reading lights on flexible stalks (think HAL 9000) and flip-up flatscreen TVs with video on demand (such options as The Sandlot sharing spaces with new releases- I watch Toy Story and Cat watches Rachel Getting Married, we both cue up and watch The Sandlot). 

Upon entering the cabin, we are asked if we would like any champagne, a tradition that I believe should be extended (socialize!) to all sections of all flights everywhere in the world. We drink down our bubbly, cheers-ing to Valentines day in flight, and then we are proffered the menus for the evening's (morning, evening, night, whatever) meal. 

Thus began the parade of eating, which started with salads, hors d'oeurves of steak and salmon, and continued to liquors (amaretto) and gouda / havarti plates, to the dinner of steak and salmon, snack of yogurt parfait, and finally the "arrival meal". 

The flight took us on a path over lake Superior, the Wabakimi Wilderness area in Canada, the Cootenai National Forest and up to Alaska, where we crossed (in sort of a reverse path to that of our ancestral hominid brethren) the Bering Strait and descended into Russia. Opening the windows over Canada revealed chains of interconnected lakes, all frozen solid, and some of them with what appeared to be mile long roads carved across the frozen surfaces. 

In Russia, Brian happened to open the window and the sight was of unending, snowclad mountains as far as the eye could see. Japan, cloudy, no Fuji in sight. 

We typed some messages to folks at home from the airport in Japan, and uploaded some photos to Flickr (www.flickr.com/photos/brianblakely) and boarded the same plane, same seat, for the remainder of  the flight to Taiwan. This leg of the journey we slept as much as we could and didn't even finish our amarettos. Upon arriving in Taipei, we gathered our belongings, changed currency and walked outside. A pert man with a sign labeled "Catherine Nolet" smiled and waved us to the curb. 

The city of Taipei slipped past the windows quietly, blanketed in fog. Emerging from the night, towers of neon lights and glowing rows of red warning lights flashed from the sides of the modern highway. We slept, drifting in and out as the car passed what looked like industrial parks and hidden apartment buildings.

After two hours we awoke to the blaring neon lights and low motor hum of scooters. Taichung City was awake, at 11:30PM on a Saturday night, and the streets bustling with life. Tall, new buildings that look like shopping malls and high-rise apartments rise up from the streets with shining, reflective glass on the windows, and neon everywhere. 

The Nolet residence, however, is set off of the main drag a block, tastefully clad in blonde stone that looks like it was carved from the wailing wall. A large, well-appointed entryway leads onto a courtyard pond. Everything in the place exudes class, befitting of the name Cha-Teau. As we arrive, Teresa - Cat's mom, walks out the door with a book in her hands, "I just guessed!" she explains, "Mothers are psychic sometimes."  We follow her inside, up the elevator to the 6th floor, and into the beautiful and comfortable apartment of Cat's parents. Hints of home in Kentucky are hidden among the asian-themed art and architecture: A painting of horses standing in a pasture, a quilt laid across a modern sofa, all speak of home. We drink some tea, talk about the city, and now it's bedtime.

Temperatures are expected to be in the 80s tomorrow, and we look forward to wandering the city streets, exploring and drinking bubble tea, perhaps even testing out our new (although extremely limited) Mandarin vocabulary.