the sole of Seoul has soul

Going to and from Ulaanbaatar I prefer taking the Seoul route (UB-Seoul-Paris/London-Biarritz). The main South Korean hub of Incheon is a real gem amongst international airports. There are usually some five or six hours to kill between flights but rarely is a moment dull. Upon arrival I head straight for a massage. Not one of those European strokey-strokey efforts, a good old-fashioned Asian pummeling. If it doesn't hurt I want my money back. After 90 minutes of healing torture I'm famished. Reluctantly I have use of the business lounge and therein a fabulous range of savouries, muffins and French wine. By now I am properly chilled out. Time to go exploring.

The airport is huge, not T5 huge, but bigger than most. The terminal is shaped like a huge banana. Both sides of the fruit are adorned by a plethora of upmarket clothing shops, electrical accessories of allsorts, smashing eateries and other retail oriented ventures. As I passed by Prada I heard a group of girls screaming. I guessed it wasn't for me so went to explore. Four young lads stood on a small stage. They broke into some seemingly very popular pop song. It transpires they were the Asian equivalent of Take That, only younger.

In the middle of the banana another avenue leads off so it looks like the banana is on a stand. Down this route is the Korean Cultural Centre. I had seen various interesting processions start from here. First impressions tend towards naff. A second walk past still feels risible but a third begs entry. In the centre you can partake in any number of Korean cultural pursuits: writing ancient scroll, painting historic scenes, making fans etc. It's not (just) for kids and is a great example of a country marketing itself. I wonder what Heathrow would have passengers do at a Great British Cultural Centre...?

Korean of the day:- hello :: ahn-nyeong

life's a beach

Ten days back in the Basque country and every one of them has presented a reminder why St Jean de Luz is such a special place to be:

1) ridiculously good weather

2) wonderful beach

3) no Brits

4) beautiful people

5) quality restaurants

6) walking the mountains

7) real culture and history

8) promenading

9) aperitifs

10) friends

Ten more days before heading back to Mongolia. It's a difficult see-saw but somebody has to balance it.

Basque of the day:- life :: bizi

back to Basque

After a ten day round-about trip I am finally home in St Jean de Luz. After two months in Mongolia it is a pleasant shock to the system. Little has changed, the Basque country remains in my mind the most beautiful place on the planet. The boulangerie still smells divine, the sun stills shines brightly, the people still smile enthusiastically and we even managed to miss the invading Parisian hordes during July and August. A better timed trip I have never had.

Thinking about what we have experienced in Mongolia I can see several similarities with Basque culture. Both are matriarchal societies, which means things actually get done, and in relative peace. Both cultures resonate with music, song and dance. A slower more social pace of life is preferred. There have been inumerable battles over the ages yet both cultures remain strong and intact adopting practices dating to before Christ. Even the languages, both of which are alien to European ears, seem to have similarities in syntax, pronunciation and meaning. Mongolia has the edge in terms of wildlife but the Basque country wins on matters culinary. Off to enjoy my first croissant since June...

Basque of the day:- home :: etxe

people in and around Ulaanbaatar

Roughly 40% of the Mongolian population live in its capital Ulaanbaatar (some 1.2m people). About 20% live in the other various smaller towns dispersed around the vast country. The remainder are nomadic (over 1m people), that's a lot of nomads. It is a tough life that has changed little since the days of Chinggis Khaan in the 12th century. Almost all live in gers.

Gers are round thick canvas tents. They are designed to be resiliant yet transportable. Everything that needs to be done takes place inside the tent. Outdoors is often too daunting a prospect in Mongolia. Summer temperatures soar above 45C, in winter it plummets to -40C, a swing of some 80C!! The roof has a hole in its conical centre. A stove is lit in the tent for heating and cooking. Nomads sleep snuggled up together inside, take their meals together inside, undertake their ablutions and I suspect ensure the family line, all within sight and earshot of their extended family. The most important factor is warmth. Winter is the longest season and death needs to be avoided.

Despite the forced closeness family life in gers does contain its own more upbeat traditions and cultures. As is common worldwide alcohol plays an important part, generally vodka in Mongolia. Singing and playing musical instruments is surprisingly common and far more prevelant than in developed countries. It is a tough life. Herding horses and camels across the Gobi to market is not a life many can understand let alone choose. The nomads I have met remain resolutely upbeat. They know their way of life has outlived many others. They also know that the world is changing and that perhaps they are better suited than most to cope with some of the adversities that global warming will through at us.

Mongolian of the day:- cooking pot :: togoo

from St Jean de Luz to Ulaanbaatar

I am leaving St Jean de Luz to undertake a long adventure in Mongolia. My family and friends have been exceedingly supportive; in part I assume because it means they get a free holiday cat sitting in my absence. It says something about St Jean de Luz that within a week of mentioning my trip I now have guests staying every single day; so keen are people to experience the town. I hope they enjoy it as much as I do. In the meantime Basque Bylines in Mongolia will be taking up the mantle.

Basque of the day:- adventure :: abentura

things you learn in St Jean de Luz

My best lesson from 18 months in St Jean de Luz is that no matter how busy and stressed out you are, everything gets done a whole lot easier if you instead sit in the sunshine with a good friend and enjoy a cool, refreshing beer.

Basque of the day:- relax :: erlaxatu

covering your ears in St Jean de Luz

Sometimes in St Jean de Luz all you want is a bit of peace and quiet. I fully understand that the season has started and shopkeepers are eagerly rubbing their chubby little hands together in anticipation but the biscuit has been well and truly taken this weekend.

3 blokes with 3 instruments have installed themselves for 3 days in the little square beneath my front terrace. Their enthusiasm should be admired, their expertise should not. Castrating cats makes a more harmonious sound.

I have varied musical tastes but have no idea what the instruments they play are called. Nor do I care. The noise lies something between a silent movie piano-score and a drunken Bulgarian mother-in-law singing of her love for dumplings. It is with some trepidation that even the dreaded accordionist seems a better option than this. I can't hear myself think; a plan is needed.

Basque of the day:- war :: gerla

Fete de St Jean de Luz

This weekend St Jean de Luz enjoyed its wonderful annual festival. The normally brightly coloured town turns black and red for four days as people, houses and shops adorn the traditional Basque colours. Starting on Friday hundreds of children parade through the streets playing drums en route to see the mayor who officially welcomes them and proclaims the festival open. The music continues in many guises for four days. The streets are permanently filled with people enjoying themselves, moving from one group of friends to another, filling one anothers glasses with wine, cider and sangria (though not at the same time).

A myriad of events take place to ensure there are no dull moments: bull running, concerts, beach volleyball (a personal favourite), dancing, fireworks, boat racing. Everything is built around the traditions embedded within the culture and folklore of St Jean de Luz. For four days the sound of laughter fills the air and all is even more fantastical in St Jean de Luz. The weather favoured us with a radiant weekend ensuring that even more liquids were consumed than normal.

There is no doubting the festival is madness. It is a whirlwhind of a weekend with little sleep and a lot of socialising. Marking progress I was amazed at how many people I knew as I walked amongst friends over the weekend. Last year's festival was excellent but I had been an outsider. This year I most definitely felt a part of it.

The festival marks the end of the quieter period. It is the last chance before summer for all locals to enjoy themselves as a group. From next week until the start of September the main tourist season is upon us. St Jean de Luz remains wonderful, as does its ambience, but it has a different more party like feel. From next week onwards most people will be here with the sole purpose of enjoying themselves (god forbid) and the locals will largely be working hard to ensure that everybody does just that. They never fail.

Basque of the day:- party :: besta

the cost of living in St Jean de Luz

I had one task to do today in St Jean de Luz. I wanted to buy a nice lettuce for dinner tonight. After breakfast, around 1030, I set out for the market. By 1130 I was still only halfway there. It is all of 700 metres from my home but it being a sunny morning everybody was out and about catching up on local news and gossip (of which there tends to be lots). I had to do my bit. Around this time I received a message that a lovely new friend was taking coffee up the road so I was willingly obliged to go and meet her. Following this I remembered that my dance class was about to start which in turn made me hungry thus forcing me to take a late lunch. There were lots of locals in the cafe watching the football so I stuck around to enjoy the atmosphere. I got home 5 minutes ago. No lettuce. It's now raining and I have another coffee at 5 before drinks at 7. I have decided to stop work for the day and take an hour out of my hectic schedule to read a book.

To the uninitiated this might sound like a workshy sort of day. Let me assure you that I feel suitably fatigued for a Friday. More importantly, this is the way things get down here. It's who you know that matters, and more importantly, what gossip you know. Life in St Jean de Luz is exhausting.

Basque of the day:- busy :: lanpetu

spa day in St Jean de Luz

Overnight St Jean de Luz picked up the weather that has wreaked havoc on the Cote d'Azur. It has lost little of its gusto as it traversed the Pyrenees. The sea is boiling, the sky is sinking and there is only one thing for it, a day of thalassotherapy.

The Helianthal in St Jean de Luz offers a fabulous spa experience. It is located right on the beach; you can literally walk into the sea from the swimming pool. The spa has a very strangely shaped waist deep pool filled with warm sea water. Around one side are arranged a series of jets positioned to pummel various parts of the body. Another part of the pool is a jacuzzi, another offers a strong current to swim against. There are semi-submberged beds to lie on that are tickled with fizzing bubbles. An excellent hammam offers an opportunity to sweat out impurity, as does the sauna. Finally there is my favourite, the 'cascades ecossais' - Scottish waterfall - a downpour of icy water. It sure beats the weather outside, my poor plants.

Basque of the day:- storm :: ekaitz

keeping slim in St Jean de Luz

People in St Jean de Luz eat and drink more than I think fair given how slim and healthy the majority are. Meals often contain fattier foods (such as hams, fois gras or duck), rarely include much by way of vegetable or salad and are always washed down with wine.

Baffled by how they manage to retain their happy, svelte glow I have uncovered a secret. This secret also serves to explain something that has annoyed and confused us Anglo Saxons for decades. Lunch is the main meal and is enjoyed slowly over several hours. This gives the body plenty of time before bedtime to fully digest the meal and detoxify the alcohol. It also serves to relax the mind and provoke social behaviour. Supper is often little more than a small morsel.

Breakfast like a king; lunch like a prince; supper like a pauper. Perhaps the adage should read: 'missing' lunch is for wimps.

Basque of the day:- food :: jaki

Louis XIV returns to St Jean de Luz

On this day 350 years ago St Jean de Luz was waking up with its biggest ever hangover. Yesterday in 1660 Louis XIV married Marie Theresa Infanta of Spain (daughter of Philip IV). This concluded the Treaty of the Pyrenees and finally brought peace between France and Spain.

The wedding took place in Eglise Saint-Jean-Baptiste and being who he was Louis XIV insisted that the door he and his wife exited by was immediately bricked up so that noone else could have a marriage like his; so pedantic.

To celebrate the anniversary St Jean de Luz has held events all week culminating in a ceremonial mass at church followed by a re-enactment of the wedding festivities. Baroque music filled the air as revellers in large hats danced around merrily. Macarons also had their first airing for the wedding 350 years ago and as such the town's principal macaron maker, Maison Adam, was offering its delicious fare to hungry onlookers.

St Jean de Luz was chosen for the wedding not simply because the weather here is so good. Louis XIV was also known as the Sun King but had more political motivation behind his choice of venue. St Jean de Luz is the exact midpoint between Paris and Madrid.

Basque of the day:- wedding :: ezkontza

global events in St Jean de Luz

For the next few weeks there will be little escape from the football world cup, not even in St Jean de Luz. I am not the greatest football fan but cannot ignore how good it is that this event is taking place in Africa. In the midst of so much depressing news coming out of Korea, Palestine et al it is reassuring that a country less than a generation ago deemed amongst the worst has come so far. There is little chance of South Africa winning the tournament, but that is really not the point. Harmonious geographical and cultural collectiveness is more important to the world cup than winning; for once taking part whether in person or in absentia is what is important. It showcases the modern role and opportunity sport has locally and on the global stage in tearing down divisions and unifying peoples.

Basque of the day:- unity :: batasun

Backhanded compliments in St Jean de Luz

This week has as ever been a social one in St Jean de Luz. I started singing and dancing in order to meet people. Little did I realise that doing such things as an 'outsider' (etranger) would seemingly endear me so readily with the Basque people. I can never quite tell whether they think it is lovely or hilarious that I am throwing myself into things. Regardless it is nigh on impossible to walk down the street without having to stop for a chat. Given the many places I have had the pleasure of living this is the first time that I feel cradled by a real sense of community.

However, this does not come without certain drawbacks. Yesterday a local friend commented:
"Chris, you really do seem to be enjoying yourself"
"Thank you" I replied, "living here it is difficult not to."
"You really seem to enjoy the food here."

That was quite enough of that. I didn't need to hear anymore. Two weeks before the big town festival and beach season proper. Two weeks to avoid such statements being repeated. It's odd, in the UK I am of average shape; here I am seen as rather large. That says something.

Basque of the day:- diet :: jan-edanak

stage debut in St Jean de Luz

I am still not sure how it actually happened but I allegedly danced Flamenco on stage in St Jean de Luz last Saturday. The ever-lovely Fabienne organised an end of dance season concert at the jai alai (normally the home of pelota). From 0900 on Saturday and for 18 hours thereafter I was at her beck and call.

The day began with a full rehearsal. Over 100 people were involved ranging in age from 4 to 84. I was one of 7 men and would mostly be the only chap on stage at any one time albeit surrounded by a bevvy of brightly attired alluring ladies. Rehearsal good, waiting bad.

The last time I had been on stage I was seven years old and had just won the Edinburgh Schools Robert Burns Poetry Recital Award; I forgot every word and vowed I would never again take to the boards. As the start time neared and the hall filled my nerves began to get the better of me. There would be nearly 500 people watching, including a large group of my friends who promised they would make large amounts of noise in support - how much I looked forward to that.

I had two Sevillanas and one Tangos allegedly committed to memory. The first routine was some twenty minutes into the programme. The longest twenty minutes I can remember. Thankfully my obvious nervousness was greeted by much reassuring hugging by the ladies present - there is always a silver lining.

I heard the first strains of our first song and stepped trepidously into the overpowering limelight. The moment we began to move all sense of trepidation dissipated (footage here). What followed was one of the most enjoyable evenings I have ever had.

Two hours flew past and I regained sense around midnight sitting at a table with forty other revellers and clasping a large pitcher of sangria. As I staggered home around 0300 I decided that it had indeed been a resounding success. Three years ago I was working in the City; now I sing Basque, drink sangria and spend weekends dancing Flamenco with hundreds of women. How times change.

Basque of the day:- change :: aldaketa

a constant in St Jean de Luz

Today I have mostly been sitting in my house in St Jean de Luz. I am getting a new front door. The builders turned up as promised at 0800 (a surprise). They worked dilligently for several hours before asking for water. Once watered they said they would take lunch. This was around 1100. They had done well thus far so I couldn't say anything. Therein lies the schoolboy error that has so often been manipulated by builders worldwide. Lunch lasted until 1800. During this time my home was open to anyone who fancied a nosey. I was a prisoner. Normally not a problem but today was the perfect beach day and I was forced to work instead. My door has finally been installed. It's horrid and I hate it.

Basque of the day:- lazy :: alfer

the things you do in St Jean de Luz

There's never a dull day in St Jean de Luz, let alone a dull week or month. Following on from the Festival Andalou (three days of raging sunshine, sangria, dancing, tapas, socialising and general festivalness) people around town have been on a high. The festival season is upon us.

I followed up my dancing exploits with a quick spot of Basque choralling at Musee Basque in Bayonne and a good deal of dance practice with the ladies. This weekend presents the end of year Flamenco spectacle - the fruits of Fabienne's labour. All has gone swimmingly until I pulled a muscle in my back yesterday - no honestly I did...

Every morning at 0730, lunchtime at 1200 and evening at 2000 the eglise St Jean Baptiste is eager to let us know that we should be eating. Rather than the simple peeling; we are offered three peels by three different bells each increasing in pitch. This is followed by 30 peels of the main bell. My bedroom faces the church and at this time of year the French windows are open overnight. There is no chance of my having a long lie in the morning.

Basque of the day:- regular :: ohizko

time for fiesta in St Jean de Luz

Here we go, three hours until the fiesta begins in St Jean de Luz. This weekend sees the Festival Andalou which translates as much dancing, drinking and eating. It is based largely on the promenade with several restaurants opening their doors to revellers for bespoke parties. On the promenade the 'casetas' (small tents serving sangria and tapas) are open pretty much all night long. The camp is centred around a stage on which more able flamenco dancers dance while we follow suit below. During the day there is non-stop dancing including numerous mass beginners classes which are good fun. At night flamenco oriented bands make sure nobody falls asleep. With the weather forecast to touch 30C and the sea views being hospitably panoramic this promises to be a good weekend. Sunday is the main event. I will report back.

In addition to the festival there is the small matter of a rugby cup final involving the local team Biarritz as well as a swanky private party that my choir are singing at on Saturday evening. I had my first ever siesta this afternoon anticipating that I won't sleep at all between now and Monday. Life in the Basque country continues to be stressful.

Basque of the day:- party :: jai

fags and bikes in St Jean de Luz

I saw a classic contradiction this morning in St Jean de Luz as I headed out to the boulangerie for my daily croissants and baguette. There was a man in a Basque beret smoking a cigarette whilst standing beside his bike. A normal enough occurrence until I looked more closely. His brand of cigarette and bike were both Gitane. I believe it means 'gypsy woman'.

Who'd have thought that the same name would be used to sell two very different types of lung buster. They also do guitars.

Basque of the day:- esklabua :: slave

embarassing admission in St Jean de Luz

I've mentioned before that St Jean de Luz is a fairly suave place. I live in the centre of town so I like to hope that a little of that sophistication has rubbed off on me. However, there is a pastime I enjoy that I am compelled to keep secret. Even my wife only found out about it last year. it is something about which my friends would ridicule me and its discovery would certainly lessen my standing amongst the Basque men. I need to share it though, I can't go on any longer living a lie.

I love shopping in supermarkets.

It's not as though this is something new. As a youth, myself and a good artist friend (he knows who he is) used to take delight in people watching at the local supermarket in Edinburgh. There is always such a wild and varied delight of people milling around. It really can be an anthropological insight and treat.

Imagine my delight upon finding Al Campo across the border in Spain. It has to be the largest and most bizarrely stocked offering of its kind. Where Scotland held aisles of ready meals, here we find a thousand varieties of sausage; where Edinburgh presented us with a myriad of fizzy drinks here we find whole aisles stuffed with legs of ham. The clientele is also different and their social patterns as alien as the ingredients I tried to translate.

I feel a new challenge upon me and will endeavour to catalogue the buying behaviours, idle banter and shopping fashions that present themselves over the coming months.

Basque of the day:- shop :: denda