Hotel Review: Marina Bay Sands, Singapore

Marina Bay Sands - the exterior is absolutely impressive (note: picture taken from MBS website).

On a trip to Singapore in May 2013 I had the opportunity to stay at the Marina Bay Sands (www.marinabaysands.com/‎).  This iconic five star hotel is one of the defining points on the city's skyline, with an infinity pool stretching across the top which is advertised as among the best in the world.

Infinity Pool - appears relaxing with a phenomenal view (note: picture taken from MBS website).

If you don't want to take my word on the pool, Google "Best Infinity Pools" and have a glance at the lists that come up.  Here are my top 3 results:

• http://www.elitetraveler.com/travel-news/the-10-best-infinity-pools
• http://twistedsifter.com/2010/07/25-stunning-infinity-pools-worldwide/
• http://www.travelchannel.com/interests/top-hotels/photos/worlds-coolest-pools-infinity-and-beyond

Warning: pictures in the above links may result in uncontrollable cravings for expensive vacations.  

We booked this hotel after reading a mixture of reviews, some solid and some more wary.  Sometimes you just have to take a chance.  The price was on the higher-end for Singapore, and we booked a premier room on an upper floor with a city view which added to the cost.  We wanted the full experience, and were expecting it to be an excellent end to a phenomenal trip.

Having been there, I now understand the mixed reviews better.  There are definite pros to this hotel, but there are undeniable cons as well.

Top 5 Pros:

1. Location:  The location was phenomenal in terms of access to tourist attractions in Singapore.  It is attached to the metro and there were numerous taxis always available.  This makes transit in the city a breeze.

The hotel is also attached to a shopping mall that could distract for hours with both high-end and more economical options, as well as dozens of restaurants and cafes.  I would recommend Au Chocolate, which had delectable designer deserts.   Restaurants in Singapore aren't cheap, but they are consistently good.

As an aside, I'll note that I went back and forth to the airport on two separate occasions from the Marina Bay Sands.  In each case I paid completely different rates depending on the taxi. There was a system in place, so it would be worth looking into if you want to accurately set your expectations.

2. Rooms:  The rooms were clean and well-kept. They were what you would expect from a five star property, with plenty of space, free bottled water and excellent amenities (the brand specific was to the Marina Bay Sands but good quality).  

Of note, the bathrooms were the size of most backpacker dorm rooms, but the beds were replaced with bathtubs and the floors were marble.  Plus, no cockroaches.  Score!

Entry to the room was sleek and classy.

The bathroom included an impressive bathtub.  You could have a party in that thing!

The shower and toilet were separate enclosures, making the bathroom seem even more spacious.

The bedroom was spacious, with floor to ceiling windows that had phenomenal views of the city.

3. Hotel layout:

The layout of the hotel as well as it's size means you aren't pressed for options.  There is a casino on-site, shows can be booked, a light show in the evening over the bay, multiple bars and restaurants, and a shopping mall you can really dig your credit card into.  Beyond that, the finer touches such as the greenery and the fountains make for impressive viewing.

Fountain in the adjoining shopping mall.  The water swirls impressively in the bowl overhead, the bottom occasionally opening so it can flow to the pond below.

Hotel lobby.

4. Gym & Yoga studio:  The gym was the highlight of the entire hotel. QED.

It's located on the 55th floor of Tower 2, just below the pool.  If you're afraid of heights, avoid it (you actually should probably avoid the entire hotel if that's the case!).  The gym is built into the base separating the hotel from the pool above.  It has floor to ceiling glass glass windows that overlook the city from all sides, including a corner devoted to yoga that is absolutely decadent   The gym equipment is new, clean and well-maintained, with staff supervising and cleaning after each guest (no need to touch a spray bottle here!).  

Though I was unimpressed with the staff in the hotel overall, the gym was an exception.  I visited it twice during my stay and both times I was impressed with the consistency and quality of the service.

Yoga studio with impressive views over the city.

The gym had numerous treadmills and cardio machines facing the wall of glass.

Seating in the gym.

Weight equipment in the gym.

5. Infinity Pool: The pool was impressive, but most pictures I saw online do a poor job of showing how busy it is. This isn't a serene, calm area. There are children and they aren't necessarily being watched closely by their parents. Additionally, the pool isn't heated and the contrast to the outside air is a bit shocking. Though this pool ranks on the top lists in the world, I can't help but feel it was a bit of a disappointment in terms of the 'serenity-factor'.

Without a doubt the pool has the wow-factor, but it's an enormous draw for the hotel and that's reflected in the number of guests that use it.

Infinity pool.  The view was impressive, but it wasn't as calm as other pictures suggest.

The news isn't all chocolate and roses though.  There were definitely some rotten apples tossed into the mix, and while I could overlook a couple things going wrong I was surprise that some of these issues could even have arisen let alone that I would be forced to deal with each of them over the course of a 3-day stay.

Top 5 Cons:

1. Bellboys & luggage: Upon arrival, there were no bellboys to help with our luggage.  It was only after I had brought our bags to the curb that someone came around.  We were the only car arriving at that point and it wasn't the middle of the night.

Once our luggage was tagged, it was taken away to be held until we received a room.  Given there was a delay receiving rooms for all guests, they should have advised of this and asked if we needed anything before taking our bags.  This proved a challenge on multiple fronts, the most frustrating being that we were completely overdressed for the weather and though they offered pool access we weren't able to use it because we didn't have our bathing suits.  

This isn't a major issue, but bell staff should have known there was a delay and held off taking the bags so quickly.

2. Check-in & changing rooms: We arrived in the morning and no rooms were available.  I was told several times that the hotel was under no obligation to provide a room earlier than 3pm and that if I wanted the room I had requested I could pay for an additional night.  I understand there is a risk showing up early for check in, however I've never had an issue in the past with hotels in Singapore.  I asked what options I had outside of paying 500 SGD to get a room, and was told our room would be ready at 3pm (premier city view with 2 twin beds), or we could alternatively take (i) a room without a view earlier, or (ii) a room with a single king bed and a pull-out in 2 hours.  I was told that if I took any room before 3pm I would not be able to change later, and that I may have to take a downgraded room the following day.  I took the king room and changed the following day to a room on a lower floor (we were in Kuala Lumpur for the day so we only learned where we would be when we returned around 9pm).  Both rooms had gorgeous views, however my interactions with the front desk staff were frustrating and left a bad impression.

Again, I don't view this as a major issue but it was a frustrating first impression.

3. Hospitality suite: While we were waiting to be assigned a room it was suggested we could get coffee and snacks from the cafe, however there is no seating in the lobby.  After speaking to several staff members in different areas, I was told that the front desk could offer a hospitality suite upon request.  I find it odd that I had to ask around to even be informed this was an option.  

When we arrived, the hospitality suite was overcrowded and filthy.  The garbage was overflowing, tissues were strewn on the floor, and empty water bottles were everywhere.  This is a five star hotel and no effort was made to ensure it was kept respectable.  Given it was the only seating option for guests waiting for a room, I was absolutely stunned.

4. Printing a boarding pass: I had a day trip to Kuala Lumpur while visiting Singapore.  I checked in for my flight and went to the business center to print off my boarding passes at 8pm.  At this point I found out that the business center was closed, even though the sign had said it was open until 10pm.  My mistake, I didn't realize it was a national holiday and there was no signs indicating such.  Instead I approached the concierge desk where I explained that I needed to print off a boarding pass for an early morning flight.  I was told that this wouldn't be possible.

I'm sorry?

Here I am standing in a five star hotel being told that a very common, simple request cannot be accommodated.  I don't think I've ever had this issue before, and I told your staff as much.  When they stated again that they couldn't help, I reminded them that they were working for a five star hotel and they should "figure it out".

They did at that point, but the latter half of this conversation shouldn't have been necessary.  

5. Room cleaning: On our third day in Singapore I took my mother sightseeing in the city.  We left the room around 8am and I put the "maid service please" indicator on before we left.  When we returned at 4pm the room had not been cleaned.  I double checked at that point that I hadn't accidentally put the "do not disturb" up, but this wasn't the case.

I called down and was told that someone would be up in about an hour.  I asked if it could be any sooner, but was told it would be as soon as possible which was in that time frame.  

My mother wanted to have a nap, so I changed the sign to "do not disturb" and went down to the concierge desk in Tower 1 (on my way to the gym).  I asked them if there was an issue (usually cleaning staff leave around 4-5pm), received their apologies and was told housekeeping was available 24 hours a day so they could delay for an hour for my mother's nap.  They then called housekeeping to confirm that we would call when we were ready for service.

When I returned to my room from the gym an hour later my mother informed me that they had called to tell us they were ready to clean the room but couldn't go around the "do not disturb" sign.  This was roughly 10 minutes after I had spoken to the concierge.  They had then come in to clean the room as my mother was now awake.

Another scenario that was unnecessary.  Having a "maid service please" sign on the room all day long shouldn't have been ignored.  

I can't say that I've ever run into any of the issues above in Singapore before.  Realistically, a few issues I can live with but in this case I felt as though I was a training opportunity for the staff.  We paid for a premier room with a city view for three nights, but we also paid for good service and I was really stunned and disappointed by what was delivered.

I'm not in the habit of writing feedback directly to hotels, but I did send my comments to the Marina Bay Sands.  They took the feedback seriously and noted that they had looked up camera footage to confirm, but in the end the message sent back to me was basically a "thank you for your feedback, we hope you stay with us next time you're in Singapore".

Let's be honest here, Singapore is Five-Star-Hotel-Land.  It's a beautiful city with a ton of options.  While the pros for the Marina Bay Sands are good, the frustratingly inconsistent service easily outweighs them.  Will I stay there again?  No, and I wouldn't recommend you do either.

Where am I?

Update: Those of you who guessed Lisboa, you got it!  A gorgeous city, jam-packed with class and definitely worth a visit.  Look for a post to come on some of the highlights!

ps: next time, guess here rather than whispers in my ear!

***

For all you travel snobs out there, take a guess where this picture was taken!

Hint: It was built by the same genius behind the Eiffel Tower, and I'm planning a post on this beautiful European city!

What's Your Favorite Boarding Pass?

Just as parents have favorite children, travelers should have favorite boarding passes.

Think about it.

Remember when you were a kid on summer break.  It was ridiculous hot out and you spent happy afternoons eating watermelon, making flower necklaces and building forts in the woods.  Then, overnight and with some mystery, the carnival would arrive.  Colorful tents and rides were unpacked from enormous trucks with half a dozen wheels, followed closely by accordion-like music that was piped through air thick with the sugary scent of cotton candy.

You begged your parents to go, and when they finally took you to exchange your allowance for that golden ticket it was like a whole new world was suddenly at your fingertips.

As an adult, the carnival doesn't hold the same sort of wonder and mystery (small print: though if you want to be tempted again, "Water for Elephants" and "The Night Circus" are both very enticing reads).  You've eaten the cotton candy, seen the bearded lady, and while you have vague memories of being spun around in circles and enjoying it, your stomach now equates those same rides with a bad hangover and acts accordingly.

Luckily, your allowance has grown a bit.  You can now look further afield and realize that in many ways the world is now your carnival, and your boarding pass is that golden ticket.

So the question of the day: What's your favorite boarding pass?

Perhaps it's a first?

• First flight
• First time up front
• First round-the-world flight
• First jaunt on a private jet

Or perhaps the start to your honeymoon, sabbatical or a brave move to another country.

Regardless of which it is, just looking at that boarding pass evokes memories of what followed.

For me, my favorite boarding pass is a bit of an oddity.  I've used electronic boarding passes as much as paper, some very basic and others feats of artistic wonder.  This one though, this one was something else.

It was Cairo airport, October 2011.  Mo, Addy and I were waiting at our gate for a flight to Asmara.  Having had a seven hour layover, Mo and I had left the airport to take a felucca cruise of the Nile and a shopping trip to the Khan el Khalili.  We had met Addy at CAI on our return, grabbed snacks in the food court, and were now impatiently awaiting our flight.

Countdown to Eritrea.  Not sure I've ever been so excited to get on an MS flight...

It was a night flight and possibly I was a little tired.  At least, that's my excuse.

"I can't find my boarding pass," I said.

I had started by subtly searching my bag and flipping through my passport.  Obviously it was here somewhere.  Usually I put the glorified pieces of paper in a safe place.

The Phase 1 search had failed, so I moved on to Phase 2:  In a less than subtle fashion I yanked everything open, dumping random necessities on the seat beside me and established empirically what I already knew instinctively.

My boarding pass had been stolen by an Egyptian mummy while I was in the bathroom and was even now being sold on the black market for replacement bandages and a scrawny cat.

Shit!

"It's somewhere," Addy said.  "Look again."

I looked again.  The Phase 3 search was remarkably similar to Phase 2, but everything was already sitting out in front of me.

"Nope," I finally said.  "Definitely not here."

I don't think in all my years flying I've ever lost my boarding pass.  It's just a silly piece of paper you tuck away, show upon request, and move on with life.

It was embarrassing losing it, but it was just a piece of paper.

Shoving everything back into my bag, I grabbed the paper copy of my ticket and my passport and walked up to the gate agent.

He was a tall man, sharply dressed with dark hair and enviable eyelashes.  Egyptians definitely won the lottery for perfect eyelashes.  Beside the point.

"Can I help you?" he asked, looking bored.

"Sorry," I began, using the word that really should be declared a Canadian national treasure given how often we use it, "but I seem to have misplaced my boarding pass.  Would you mind printing me another?"

I pushed the copy of my ticket and my passport onto the desk, looking hopeful.  Not that I really felt I should need to, this was a simple request.

"You'll have to go to the check-in desk," he replied.

I paused.  I was in the gate area while check-in was on the other side of security.  He couldn't be serious.

"Um..."

"We can't print boarding passes here."

Apparently he was serious.

Noting my confusion, he beckoned one of his coworkers, speaking to him in rapid Egyptian Arabic. They glanced at me, then away, then back again.

"Come with me," the second man finally said, waving me after him while taking my ticket and passport in his hand.

Glancing over my shoulder at Mo and Addy, I shrugged and hurried after him.

The gate area was small and about three quarters full.  We passed rows of plastic chairs, some passengers watching us while others discussed what I could only assume was world politic by all the hand waving.  Reaching the security point, I eyed the one metal detector that everyone was filing through.  Unconcerned, the gate agent walked through it and beckoning me to follow.

Bells ringing, I did so, taking the stairs up to the main floor after him.  No one gave us a second glance, but no one would.  This was Cairo and the airport is notoriously lax on security.

We walked to the Egypt Air check-in counter and while I stood to one side the agents discussed.

Then they frowned at their computer screen for a while.

Then they began arguing.

I noticed in all this that there was no point where printing of a boarding pass appeared to be occurring.

Cue the onset of mild concern.  Was it really that difficult to re-print a boarding pass?

Apparently it was.  After ten minutes I still had no glorified piece of paper to wave around when I wanted to get on my flight.

"Come with me," the agent said once more.  I believe that was his favorite sentence.  He still had my passport, so I followed him like a bloodhound.

We walked back through the concourse to security.  I hesitated behind the notably shorter line, but he impatiently waved me on once more, ignoring the bells set off as I walked through the metal detector.  No one stopped me.

We went back up to the desk where several other agents now joined the discussion.  They stood in a pack of four, speaking rapidly as they tried to decide what to do.

Finally, one waved me over and handed me back my passport and ticket.  He also handed me my boarding pass.

"Use this," he said.

Then he handed me a torn piece of paper with the seat number, flight number and Asmara airport code hand written in duplicate.

With that they were done with me.  I in turn was holding the least official and oddest boarding pass I had ever come across.

My favorite boarding pass: CAI-ASM

When we boarded, the agent took my glorified piece of paper and with a very no-nonsense expression ripped it in half.  He gave me my half and kept the other.  No questions asked.  Just like that I was through the gate and onto the ride.

Unlike the theme parks of my childhood, I don't have to be four feet tall to take a global jaunt (though sometimes when a baby is crying in the seat behind me I wish they would impose that rule).  I've also yet to see an airline stamp my wrist, though quite a few nightclubs have (adult carnivals with equally peculiar characters).  All the same, the excitement remains each time the flight is called and I fish out my golden ticket.

Next time you fly, try to remember that excitement you felt as a child.  As an adult, the world is now your carnival.  Rather than treating the boarding process as a test in patience, try instead to savor the anticipation of what is to come.

Quality Entertainment: FlyerTalk

Want to know the menu on an upcoming flight?  Advice on how to navigate FRA?  Trying to decide between SQ or LX for that next big trip (SQ, obviously)?  Debating between the Fours Seasons Singapore and the Marina Bay Sands?

FlyerTalk is a great place to start.

FlyerTalk is a forum for people obsessed with flying, collecting points, and traveling (in brief, it's a pretty loaded website).  It has thousands of members, some of whom post obsessively.  As such, it's a great place to go for a bit of entertainment.

Note I said entertainment, not necessarily information.

My experience with FlyerTalk is mixed.  There are some very knowledgeable people on it, but there are also some very authoritative people who don't seem to have a clue what they're talking about.  Wading through these is time consuming and at times frustrating, especially when you are yourself looking for an answer.

That said, post a question and you will get a response.  Just be sure to take that response with a grain of salt.

Check it out!

Liechtenstein: A Seriously Quirky Country

"So, I'm going to be in Zurich for 17 hours at the end of June.  It's the perfect layover, from 6am to 11pm.  Come join me."

Cue silent consideration.

"It'll be fun," I continue, eyeing my friend's grainy face over Skype.  "And think of all the yummy chocolate."

I know, I know, playing the chocolate card early.  It is Switzerland though.

"Also, we could go to Liechtenstein!"

She didn't look sold, but she was thinking about it.  "What's in Liechtenstein?"

"No idea," I shrugged.  "That's why we should go."

Note to reader: I am very strong in the illogical argument department.  Such arguments are infinitely more fun than stating "we could go for the culture, for their unique food, for a historical museum with a pretty glass front, or to better understand the people of this little European nation."  Honestly, I'm bored just writing that.

"Plus it's close," I added.  "It can't be more than an hour for you, and I can see flights for next to nothing."

Cue quick search on kayak.com for flights.  Of course I'm right, inter-Europe travel is gloriously cheap.

"$300 round trip with fantastic flight times, less if you don't mind getting up early.  Plus you can stay for the weekend, see a bit of Zurich and sample multiple chocolate shop offerings."

This wasn't the way to break her resistance. Germans are very difficult to talk into things.  Recently though, another friend and I had introduced her to the world of what we call "crazy trips".  These are trips which sacrifice logic for pure, chaotic fun.  You essentially see an insane amount in a short period of time, potentially with flights in between, then dash home in time to walk into the office at 8am.  The fun continues when someone asks what you did over the weekend.

"It'll definitely be a crazy weekend," I hedged.

She looked at the ceiling.  On Skype it always seemed a bit odd when she did this.  I'm fairly certain she was looking at something on the wall opposite, but not knowing what was there made it seem strange.

"You can do all the planning, we can do whatever you like.  I just want to go to Liechtenstein and Laderach."

"Laderach?  Where's that?"

"What.  It's chocolate," I smirked.  "Only the best chocolate in all of Switzerland, and there is a shop right next to the main train station."

Yes, it is possible to play the chocolate card more than once.

Her pause was shorter this time.  "I'll look at flights, see if there's anything that works."

Of course there was, I had already looked that up.  She was so in!

***

We met in Zurich a month later, her for the weekend and me for a 17 hour layover before continuing on to Singapore and Bali.  On arrival, I ducked into the Swiss arrival lounge for a shower and a shot of espresso.  It's possible I also had ice cream for breakfast, but we won't dwell on that.  I took a shuttle to my friend's hotel, and by 9:00am we were strolling around Zurich station, waiting for the next train to Sargans where we would connect by bus to Liechtenstein.

Liechtenstein in a nutshell:

• A landlocked principality in central Europe, it shares borders with Switzerland and Austria. 
• The Central Intelligence Agency ranks it's residents as the second wealthiest in the world, with an average per capita income of $89,400 (https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/rankorder/2004rank.html), slightly ahead of Bermuda and behind Qatar.  
• The entire country boasts a population of only about 36,000 people.
• The capital city is Vaduz.
• It is one of the 25 least visited countries in the world.

To get to Liechtenstein from Zurich is simple, which made me wonder why it ranked among the least visited countries on the planet.  The train tickets were 75 euros each, round trip in second class, and the journey was 1.5 hours each way.

The train itself is modern and efficient with comfortable blue chairs that face each other.  Both leaving and returning to Zurich it was fairly full and we had to hunt to find seats together, however sitting alone would have been easy.  This was an express train, making only two stops along the way, with the conductor circulating in between to check tickets.  There was also a woman selling food and drinks, but we decided to hold out for the Liechtenstein Special.

The connection to the bus is directly outside the train station.  Passengers are only given a few minutes to connect to the first bus, so we didn't delay finding it and taking our seats.

For those concerned with taking buses in a non-English speaking country, put your mind at ease.  These aren't the buses of days past.  There was a TV screen at the front that listed off the stations, including where you were along the route and how long until the next stop.  It was beautifully simple to get anywhere based on this.

We arrived at a bus stop along a very tidy but uninspiring street.  There was no sign that said "Welcome to Liechtenstein", and even when we left later in the day we didn't spot one from the bus window.  All the same, a stroll up to the post office confirmed we were in fact in Liechtenstein.

"The guidebook says we can get our passports stamped here," my friend said authoritatively.  It was the tourist information building across from the post office.

I followed her in, already dragging out my passport.  Obviously I needed some proof I'd come here.

In equal measure to my unrealistic "I want an official passport stamp from Liechtenstein" was the price take of 3 CHF to get it.  Steep, especially for a stamp that noted it was from the tourism office.  Of course I still forked over the cash.  Who am I to not encourage completely illogical pursuits?

"Postcards," my friend then reminded me.  She was embracing her German heritage but going down the list of things she had planned.  Postcards was obviously #2.  It was my fault for allowing her complete control over the planning.

We argued back and forth over whether we should send a beautiful or peculiar postcard to a mutual friend (I voted for the quirky one, but got outvoted somehow...?), bought a handful of stamps, shoved them in our bags and looked upwards towards the castle.  That would be #3.

Side street off the main square.

The castle overlooking the main square.

"That looks far," I said, eyeing the castle on the top of the hill.  There didn't appear to be a funicular to ride up.  

"It's not that far."

"It looks far.  You have to be nice to me, I took a red eye flight to get here."

"You flew in business class, and it was your idea."

"I only got three hours sleep."

"You had a flat bed and French champagne.  You have no room for complaint."

This was true.  "Do you really want me to be tired and cranky later?"

"You'll probably be that way regardless."

This was also true.  

What did Oscar Wilde say about people?  

"I choose my friends for their good looks, my acquaintances for their good characters, and my enemies for their intellects."

Though pretty, my friend was fast moving into enemy territory.

"Fine," I grumbled.  "Which way?"

Of course we argued about the road to take.  I didn't like the one going up, she stated that we couldn't get to the castle without going uphill.  She won.  Again.

View overlooking the city.

View of the main square from a platform near the base of the castle.

Beautiful winding road.  Would love to have a sports car to drive here!

I'll admit, though grudgingly, that the hike was worth it.  Viewpoints showed sweeping vistas down and across the valley towards the snow-capped Alps, the puffy white clouds pressing heavily against the azure sky.  The landscape itself was incredibly green, to the point where it was almost surreal how vibrant the colors were.  

The walk took about half an hour, with signs along the way describing the history of the country and it's political structure.  Because the castle is still the main residence of the royal family, tourists were not allowed inside but could ogle the grounds and even (gasp!) touch the stones if they so dared.

Author's note: basically it was an unimpressive stone castle you couldn't enter and didn't get a good sense of from the outside.  Unfortunately, this was the main tourist attraction.

The castle, which sits atop the hill overlooking the town.

One of the towers of the castle.  This is as close as you can get as it's a residence and isn't open for tourists.

Other than the castle, the sites in Liechtenstein were sparse.  This is probably why so few tourists visit here.  There was however one very strange feature of this small country we couldn't help but be drawn to: the statues.  Odd, odd statues.  And they were everywhere!

The centre of it all.

Mini-library (granted, I've seen these elsewhere, just never in the middle of a square).

At first we were convinced this was hiding construction, but in fact it's a permanent statue.  Defies logic.

A plastic statue devoted to music.

Artistically rendered horse.  What's wrong with its butt?

There had to be a gnome around here somewhere!

Odd, odd house with odd, odd statues in the yard.

Naked superman.  QED.

Back down in the square, we grabbed lunch at a nondescript, overpriced cafe.  A few European tourists milled about, but in general the area was empty.

"So..."

"So..."

My friend and I shared a glance.

"Time to go?"

"Yeah," I nodded.  We had lasted 3 hours in this weird little country.  That was quite enough.

We mailed our postcards, waved goodbye to Naked Superman, walked to the bus station, and headed back to Zurich.

What can we say having been to Liechtenstein?  Well, I feel I can now authoritatively answer the question "What's in Liechtenstein?"

A castle you can't visit and a series of statues that make you question the sanity of the artists.  Other than that?

Not a whole hell of a lot.

Excellent Information Source: Travel.gc.ca

Most travel research starts with Google (or your other favorite search engine).  You progress through websites showing flight schedules and prices, hotels and reviews.  You may choose a restaurant and a few sites to visit, noting the opening and closing times of that museum you're sure will change your life.  Whatever shape your research takes, some of it can by done casually but other parts require more accurate sources.


For example, do you need a visa to enter a particular Middle Eastern country?  In advance or on arrival?  Do you need the address of an embassy, the most current information on health concerns, perhaps a country report that provides a bit more background than Lonely Planet?

You can Google all of this, however the answers often conflict and its hard to choose which is correct.  That said, in these cases it's fundamentally important to know the facts, and fact #1 is:  Sometimes sources matter.

I would never, ever, EVER trust visa information from Wikipedia.  Similarly, vaccination information needs to come from a health authority.  The implications of getting it wrong are just too severe.

So where do you go?

For years the Canadian government has hosted an excellent website that I recommend highly.  The information is useful to both Canadians and foreigners, is up-to-date, and provides telephone numbers, addresses and links to other sources.  This website doesn't pretend to be the authority on all things travel, but rather provides a very solid starting point for information you need to get right.

Check in out!

Warning: Beware Mountain Crabs!

My phone rang the other day.  It was my mother.  She had  realized a portion of the backyard fence was rotting and after careful prodding had concluded it would have to be replaced.  Bad luck, but it happens.

A few weeks and several phone calls later, workers had been hired, measurements taken and lumber acquired. All was going to plan.  This phone call was ended abruptly by a look out the back window.  Didn't those pillars look a little... short?

They were.  The workers hadn't correctly taken into account how deep the pillars would have to go into the ground.  It was going to be a midget fence.

Production was stopped, new wood was obtained and the measurements were retaken.  Bad luck, but what can you do?

The next day my mother called to tell me they had averted disaster once more.  Concrete this time.  She was hovering next to the window, surreptitiously watching the workers and waiting for whatever came up next.  It was at this point that she confessed to me, she thought she had bad karma.

I laughed, but she was quite serious.

She blamed the mountain crabs.

***

In May my mother and I traveled to Japan on vacation.  It was one stop on our annual trip, and for the first several days we were visiting friends in Kuma, a small town on Shikoku which was surrounded by lush greenery and about as far off the tourist map as you could get in Japan.

While visiting, we decided on a foray to Kainganzan Iwayaji Temple (#45).

Are you scratching your head at the #45?

Shikoku boasts the most famous pilgrimage route in Japan, with includes 88 temples along a 1,200 km loop.  By foot it takes about 6 weeks to complete, however today most people join their 50 closest friends on a tour bus.

Iwayaji is temple #45.

We arrived with umbrellas prepared.  Rain was threatening, and by threatening I mean that I was already wet but thinking I was about to take a bath.

Abandoning our neon green car in the near-empty parking lot, we walked up the road to the main entry of the temple.  It was a large wooden gate, intricately carved with the pieces fitted together.  Beyond it, the first of many steps stretched towards infinity, the location dripping with ambiance as rain dripped from the leaves overhead.

Iwayaji Temple Entry

A winding path leads upwards through the forest, past stunning statues grown over with vibrant green moss.

At points along the path we passed statues laden in moss, some layered up the hillside in rows.  Visitors had dressed several in jackets and hats, and beneath some rested colorful flowers and monetary offerings.  

By the time we reached the main temple complex near the top of the mountain, the heavenly floodgates had opened. Each of our umbrellas struggled to keep us dry, and from the roof of each building came rivers tumbling down into puddles beneath our feet.  It was impressive, and somehow it made the temple more impressive also.  Every surface glistened, every leaf was so clean it glimmered an intense green, and the patter of the raindrops was like music wafting through the air.

To one side, a open building stood housing an enormous bronze bell.  Next to it, a log was strung with a thick band of ornate rope.  A log!  On a rope!  Next to a bell!!!

Childish glee struck me.  Glancing sideways, I saw the same expression on my mother's face.  We definitely needed to swing that log.

"I don't think you're actually allowed..." my friend began, but we ignored him entirely, digging out coins to drop in the box fixed to the side of the building.

"Tourist card," I said authoritatively.

"It's probably only suppose to be rung at New Years," he said, glancing around nervously.  There was only one person nearby, an elderly man in a dark blue coat.  He was sitting under a nearby awning trying to decide whether he wanted to brave the rain.  He was also watching us surreptitiously.

"We won't be here at New Years," my mother said sagely.

"I'll be in Delhi," I added, to which they both rolled their eyes.  It's possible I travel too much.

My mother stepped up and gripped the side of the log.  It was bigger than her.  I yanked out my camera and snapped a half dozen shots as she swung it first back, then forward into the bell.

The sound resonated throughout the compound, a deep sonorous rumble that reverberated through to the very base of my soul.  We stood there for a moment listening as the sound faded, half expecting monks to come rushing towards us or to be chastised by wizened grandmothers who spoke no English but were more than able to convey their displeasure.

None came.

Probably because no one came, we rang that bell two more times, gleefully taking pictures as we did.  It was loud and so was our laughter, but when one sees a giant bell with a log resting strategically next to it, what can one do but ring it?

"That was so not allowed," my friend laughed as we continued deeper into the temple complex.  

"I didn't see a sign," my mother shrugged.  There actually had been a sign.  It had been written in Japanese though, another testament to how many foreigners actually visited this temple.  I felt I had exercised my strategic nature by ignoring it.

As we reached the central buildings, ducking inside and closing our umbrellas, the bell sounded once more in the distance.  I grinned, absolutely certain the man in the blue jacket had decided after watching us that it was his turn.  Tsk, tsk, rule breaker.

Rain flowed heavily, cascading from roof to roof then downwards to puddle on the ground or create momentary rivers beneath our feet.

Visitors to the main temple were few, though it was hard to tell if this was due to the weather or the remote location.  We were the only foreigners, and certainly the ones taking the most pictures.  In most we offered crazy poses while mouthing "cheese-su" with fingers splaying iconic peace signs.

Visitors to the temple were predominantly Japanese, some tourists and others pilgrims.  We saw no other foreigners while visiting.

A stunning fact that is rarely seen in pictures of Japanese temples are the interior ceilings.  They are often ornate or covered in signs or symbols.  In the most traditional buildings, you can also look for how the pieces fit together.  In the past, iron was expensive or unavailable and so beams could not be nailed together.  Instead, the beams interlocked to hold the structure together.

Je-je-je-Jenga!!!  Anyone?!

The temple buildings were impressive both in terms of design and in terms of the detailing.  Above is a picture of the ceiling of one of the main structures.

Behind the main temple complex, the mountainside rose like a creature out of a horror film.  Or perhaps a god, petrified by patient watchfulness.

"It's a face," my friend said, pointing out the eyes, nose and grinning lips.

"I see that," I told him dryly.

"Not everyone sees it."

"It's obvious."

"Is that a ladder leading into his mouth?" my mother asked, pointing.  Sure enough there was a ladder leading into it's mouth.

"Let's go up!"

"It's wet and raining," my friend objected, looking unimpressed.  "Also, I heard someone died falling off of it last year."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, it was a big deal."

"We'll have to be careful then," I said, ever the voice of reason.

Above the temple, the mountain rises.  If you look closely, you can see a face looking down on you.

The ladder was wooden, with thick beams but no handles.  It went high enough that a fall probably could have killed someone, and had just enough wiggle to be mildly concerning.  Just mildly though.

We hefted ourselves up, hand over hand, pointedly not looking down, our hands gripping each rung so tightly that our knuckles turned white.  There was no one to help us, nor anyone to catch us if we fell (cue entry of white knight, please!), so the idea was to cling like a leech to that bit of wood.

The climb was worth it.  The top offered a view out over the mountainside that stunned.  The clouds were low and heavy, but somehow the light still stretched through to touch the glistening leaves of the trees around us.

In the cave behind us was a small alter on which a simple statue rested.  It was surrounded by offerings, but in a way different from what you might expect.  Where most temples collected their offerings in bowls, this alter collected them along the walls.  Specifically, coins rested in nooks and crannies at impossible angles along the walls and ceiling.  Some were shoved sideways into the soft rock, others balanced precariously on an edge, almost but not quite ready to fall.

We fished out coins from our wallets and balanced them next to others, taking pictures that wouldn't make sense to people who had never been there, curious if there was some significance to the offerings.  Sometimes when travelling you hear the most interesting justifications for the strangest behaviors, other times you're left to make it up for yourself.  I like to think we were leaving a bit of silver for this god's next filling.

One of the main temple buildings.  Note the ladder in the background, which led to a viewing platform above.

The view of the mountainside from the viewing platform.

The walk back down to the base was in ways just as thrilling as the walk up.  We noticed statues we hadn't seen before, including a glaring black deity wielding a golden sword.  Personally, I hope if we ever meet he's in a good mood.

The forest we walked through was riddled with statues.  This one looked particularly sinister, gazing down at pedestrians from atop a hill of greenery.

Nearing the exit, we were all agreeing that the temple had been absolutely stunning.  We were actually gushing over it, even to the point where we had decided the rain added to the experience.  It was the best temple we had seen (note we had only been in Japan a day), the statues were spectacular, the cultural depth was incredible, and the feeling of peaceful zen was like something you read about rather than experienced.  Honestly, our conversation was a little over the top.  That was, until we heard it.  

Crunch!

My mother yelped, spinning around and looking back.

There, no more than two steps away, was the twitching form of a crab.  A rather flat-looking crab.

"What is that?" I asked, kneeling down to get a closer look.

"It's a crab," my friend said.

It did look like a crab.  About half the size of my palm, with four legs on either side that would have helped it scuttled appropriately.  It wasn't scuttling now.  It was definitely twitching though.  Upside down, nearly-dead-but-not-quite twitching.

"We're on a mountain," I pointed out.  "Do crabs go on pilgrimages too?"

"It's a mountain crab," he replied patiently.  Like he saw crabs on the mountains all the time.

"I killed a mountain crab?" my mother gasped, horrified.  "I killed a mountain crab at a temple?  I'm going to Hell."

I nodded sagely.  "Seems that way."

"You're not helpful."

"Technically it isn't dead," I gestured, straightening up.  The crab was still twitching.

We glanced at each other.

"Well, we can't leave it like that," my mother finally said.  With a heavy but resolute step there was another crunch and the crab was now very still, very flat and very dead.  

"I can't believe I killed a mountain crab at a zen temple," my mother repeated as we continued down towards the car.  "This has to be bad karma for life."

The path to the temple was paved, the steps concrete and well kept.  The only stalls were near the main entry, keeping the remainder of the site open and uncluttered.  It was as we were exiting along this path that we had the misfortune of meeting that suicidal mountain crab.

***

My mother tends to be a bit dramatic.  I like this about her.

The "bad karma for life" was probably a bit over the top.  It's two months later and the new fence is now complete.  I've also been assured it looks fantastic.  The bad luck seems also to have passed.

At least we can hope as much.  The house does have two other fences...