tomroyal.com

Last year's holiday planning got slightly out of hand: despite turning on the computer to look for cheap flights to somewhere with a beach and not many people we ended up in Tokyo (beaches: none, except an oddly-named mall on Odaiba, people: lots). This year things went more to plan, and less overbudget. So off we went to Katelios, on the south-east coast of Kefalonia, in the Ionian islands. It doesn't really warrant a "top ten tips", but here are a few things I'd have liked to know before leaving.

Is Kefalonia overrun by tourists yet?

Yes. Yes it is. Italians come in on the ferry that docks in Skala, many in campervans. At least four flights arrive from the UK, twice a week, in August. The airport is at maximum capacity and then some. Some of the towns – particulary the area around Lassi, south of Argostoli – are very resort-y.

I am a horrible person, and I don't like most other people. Can I avoid them?

Yes. Yes you can. Pick the right place and, even in August, you won't be overrun by drunks eating chips. Also, just head to the beach in the morning and it'll be deserted. Here's Mounda beach at 10am or so (from a snapshot camera):

Yeah. Packed. Also, and bizarrely, it seems that most British people don't go to the beach. The place we stayed had a pool that would, every day and all day, even through the midday sun, be surrounded by a few British families. On the beach, in the early morning or late afternoon, you could find two very pale Londoners (us) and approximately half the population of Italy.

Should I rent a car?

As long as you're a confident driver – the roads are narrow, windy, occasionally perilous and frequently terribly surfaced – then yes. This is particularly important if not staying in one of the big resorts, as the transfer buses have to go and drop loads of people off there first – jump in a car and you can head straight off (see "avoiding people", above). Oh, but two things: do not rent a Hyundai Getz – I'll explain in a minute – and for the love of all that is holy do buy a road map. A big one. You'll need it.

As for the Getz: it's a cheap metal box on wheels. This is fine. Our cheap metal box on wheels, however, had one of the worst gearboxes I've ever attempted to drive. At one point, while climbing out from a steep hill onto a main road, it leapt out of first gear and seized entirely, leaving us in an immobile metal box blocking two lanes of traffic on a mountain road. It took quite some brute force, and half a set of clutch plates judging by the smell, to free it. Amazing. Rent a Fiat Panda instead (not anything with a smaller engine – you need to climb steep hills).

But anyhow: renting a car makes it easier to get to the out-of-town beaches (Mounda, above, but Kamina and Kata Katelois are also nice), and you can also bumble inland to see things like the Monastery of Agios Gerasimos:

there's also the castle and some caves, which we visited last time we were on the island a few years back, and the Robola wine co-operative, or you could drive into Argostoli. Last time we went there and saw a turtle. I like turtles.

Katelios, then. What's it like?

Katelios is in a bay, with a small breakwater, and was probably a fishing village before the tourists came. The town is tiny, with a bakery, two car rental places, two grocery shops, three bar-like places. One long road extends out along the coast to the West, which is covered in tavernas – ten or so. These range from pretty average to really good – try the marvellously signed Captain Jerry's for fish, or "Ostria" (right down the end) for traditional stuff done well. In the other direction the road goes onto the beach, and most of the time you can drive along the sand until you hit the dirt road behind Kata Katelios beach. There's an easier way to reach this beach, though, via a dirt track from the road between Katelios and Skala, just outside Katelios.

For a huge panorama image of Katelios, click here (warning: huge photo).

For accommodation there's a range of small studios for rent, a few standard holiday hotels (the Mythos has a pool bar, Sky Sports etc etc, so either run to book now or avoid like the plague depending on your taste), while the whopping great, modestly named and brand new Utopia Hotel has just opened out on the other side of town, and looks very posh by the standards of the island. We stayed at a place called Hara Studios, which was inland, surrounded by fruit groves. It had a pool, but no Sky Sports, no bar, nothing. Just quiet. Oh, and kittens!

It seems that a tribe of semi-feral cats has lived there, fed and watered by the owner, for years. The latest batch spent most of its time asleep on our balcony. Very, very cute. Accommodation tips: take a torch.

Is there anything that, as a sane person, I am likely to really hate?

Just the airport, really. Recipe for Kefalonia airport on a Sunday: put about a thousand people in a facility designed to handle one hundred, close passport control for a few hours for no reason, make no attempt to manage the crowds or display any useful information, then leave to stew. Fortunately a handful of Thompson staff, in posession of uniforms and a look of horror at the whole mess, attempted with some success to organise it. Take a book, water, and patience. Or some kind of sedative. That might help.

So. Worth visiting?

For the culture and sightseeing? Not really – an earthquake wracked Kefalonia in the 50s, so there's not much by the way of history*. For a week in the middle of nowhere, snorkeling in the sea, reading a book and avoiding anything to do with computers and the internet? Yes. Definitely.

* This is pretty dumb on my part – as well as the monastery there's the caves, the castle and Fiskardo, for starters, all of which I visited on previous trips. See Dan's comment below.

After two days in Silicon Valley I transferred up to San Francisco. My stop in the city was a short one – a whole day Saturday, plus half of Friday and some time on Sunday before heading to the airport – so it was bound to be a case of picking a few things to check out rather than an exhaustive tour of the area. So what did I learn? Well..

Take walking shoes

I like walking, and I've always thought walking around a city as far as you can manage in a day is a good way to get a feel for it – I've tried this in just about every place I've visited over the years.

In San Francisco I arrived at 1pm, so carved a path down Nob Hill, through Market Street to the Ferry Building, up to the Coit Tower, down to Fisherman's Wharf, along the coast to Golden Gate Park, South to Haight/Ashbury and then back via Isotope Comics on Fell St. Coit Tower gives you a nice view over the city – here's looking towards the Ferry building:

.. and in the West I passed the splendidly mad Palace of Fine Arts, sadly surrounded by chain-link fence and signs soliciting donations to help save it:

The whole circuit, including long stops at various museums, restaurants and, er, to buy comic books, only took the afternoon, but it took in some pretty lengthy hills – especially ascending to Coit Tower from the East, and coming up North towards Haight from the shore. If I'd been wearing fancy shoes instead of a pair of battered New Balance my feet would have died.

You also get to stumble across interesting stuff that you wouldn't otherwise find, from huge signs:

to tiny ones:

Four wheels bad, two wheels good

I'd heard that it was easy to rent a bike in San Francisco – and having visited I can confirm that it'd be hard *not* to rent a bike in San Francisco. The tourist-trap that is Fisherman's Wharf (more later) is covered in huge bike rental stands with young men and women hollering for customers to BIKE THE BRIIIDGE in a way that seems likely only to put you off the idea.

Anyhow, on the second day – with the fog burning off and a few hours to kill – I picked up this Marin bike for $8 per hour. The brakes were a bit loose and the handlebars needed straightening (I got a few odd looks doing that), but hey – $8 per hour! Bargainous.

The journey to Golden Gate Park is easy thanks to a long cycle path that covers most of it, and heading across the bridge to Sausalito is a really easy ride – if you've ever ridden for more than an hour or so there are no hills that'll trouble you, and there are several lovely views. It surely beats the alternatives:

.. and even if you have no intention of crossing the bridge it's far quicker to ride to Golden Gate Park than to walk. Having left San Francisco rather late at 3pm I caught one of the last ferries of the day back across around the bay around two hours later to return the bike before its 7pm deadline, but if you set out in the morning you could explore far further around the headland and back.

Do go across the Golden Gate Bridge

There is, as you may have heard, a lot of fog in San Francisco. Quite often this completely obscures the Golden Gate Bridge – here's the view from around ten minutes before I crossed it:

And yet when on the bridge: sunshine!

The fog was still there of course, being whipped around the towers by the wind:

.. and it was pretty chilly, but the views were fantastic nonetheless. There's a scenic view point on the far side – if you cross on the West side of the bridge there's a path underneath (with steps – you'll need to be able to carry a bike comfortably to use it). In summer I'd recommend attempting to cross even if the fog does look a bit grim – just take suitable clothes for cold/wet weather.

Skirt around the tourist traps..

Fisherman's Wharf is, at dusk, kindof pretty:

.. and great for fans of illuminated signage:

By day, though, it's a bit of a dump – aside from the bike rental shops and a branch of In-N-Out burger there's not much that I'd want to see again, with piers dominated by craptastic novelty shops (including one selling pseudo-spiritual tat called "Enlightenment" – my irony gland committed suicide on the spot).

Similarly, here's Haight / Ashbury:

Yes, the corner is now what must surely be the world's most-photographed Ben & Jerry's. The only thing I'd recommend around there is a branch of KidRobot on Haight.

.. but do cross to Alcatraz

Besides crossing the bridge, the one really touristy thing I would recommend is visiting Alcatraz. I wasn't too interested in the idea of visiting the prison (reason 1: it's a prison, reason 2: it uses the dreaded audio tours) but bought a ticket because I thought the island and ferry crossing might be pretty.

As it turns out I was right on the pretty bit and wrong on the prison. You can cross every half-hour or so on one of these:

from which you get a great view of the island (notice how sunny it was by the time we were arriving – that's not Photoshop):

and then you get as much time as you like to explore the island, which is now mostly a bird sanctuary, and the surprisingly small prison block:

Even the audio tour, narrated by a number of ex-guards and convicts, is interesting, and I was intrigued by the many signs of the Indian Occupation, about which I knew pretty much nothing at all:

All in all, I'd thoroughly recommend it. Book in advance, though – the day I crossed most of the boats were filled up.

.. and do see the Museums

On Sunday I had only a few hours before heading for the airport, so I visited the museums around Market Street. If you're interested in photography, and documantary photography in particular, SFMOMA is unmissable. It also had some later Roy Lichtenstein works on show, and a rather lovely atrium:

Around the corner the Museum of Cartoon Art is also brilliant – when I visited it was dominated by an exhibition on Beetle Bailey (meh), but also included the original copies of the first Japanese Batman comic (bonus fact: in Japanese, Batman likes to use the expression われわれ! quite a bit, just like Kyon) and an amazing collection of feature strips from the golden era of newspaper cartoons – including an original Peanuts strip in its huge A3 original format. There's also a section dedicated to small press comics and a great bookshop – this, together with my visit to Isotope, turned out to be rather expensive for me.

Also interesting was the San Francisco Fire Department Museum, which is chock full of old hand- and steam-powered engines, photos and bits and bobs. Here's the front of one of the oldest engines there:

Pop in, gawk at the stuff, make a donation. It's worth the trip, and the Swedenborgian Church is just a few blocks away.

Eat at In-N-Out

This is an In-N-Out Double Double meal. Costs about £4:

Depressingly, its is better than any burger you'll find anywhere in the UK. Ever. And here's the secret menu. You're welcome.

Don't queue for the cable cars

Three of the old cable car routes are still running, more as a tourist attraction than any kind of useful public transport (for those see the BART and MUNI services, which are comprehensive). With only three lines there are a handful of terminus stations, and each one normally has a massive queue. It's certainly worth riding the cable car at least once – if you're standing on the side there's a great view:

.. but I found that jumping on at one of the many intermediary stops meant far less waiting around – just pick one a few stops into the line so somebody will have left the car to make room for you. Tickets are $5 a ride.

Drink the local beer

California is home to some great beers – Sierra Nevada, for example – and San Francisco has its own in the shape of Anchor Steam. Both are fantastic and available everywhere, and there are some other, smaller brews too (I quite liked Fat Tyre). If you like beer, it's a great place to sample loads. Apparently the Anchor Steam brewery runs tours, but these must be booked ages in advance. Also, if you're under, say, 35, then be sure to carry ID.

And finally, go visit

And that's about it. I brought my heart back to London, arteries slightly fuzzier than before thanks to the Double Double, but San Francisco certainly is a great place, and a far better city to explore on foot than, say, San Diego. If you're on a longer trip or tight budget you can see a few great parts of San Francisco in a few days, but a week would give you time to look around properly.

Back in 2008 I was lucky enough to find myself with three days to drive around California, starting near San Diego. California's a big place, though, so in the end I was only able to cover the south of the state: San Diego, LA, the desert around Palm Springs and the Laguna Mountains. San Francisco and Silicon Valley, both places I've wanted to visit for some time, were hours out of reach. This week, however, I found myself flying into the north of California for a press event in Silicon Valley, with time to take a brief look around.

The event itself was in Mountain View, CA, but at 3pm the day before I found myself down the road in Palo Alto. Any web nerd knows that Google's based in Mountain View, and Mac fans know that the temple of Steve can be found in Cupertino (on Infinite Loop, no less), but Palo Alto is home to the grandaddy of all Silicon Valley locations: the (previously Xerox) PARC, home of Ethernet, GUI systems and more. Sadly PARC is some way south of where I was, so with no car – more on that later – and with only a few hours I walked into the town instead.

The centre of Palo Alto is a nice place to kill a few sunny hours, but I'm not sure you'd want to be kicking around there for much longer without something to do. Besides the restaurants, chain shops and boutiques there's an old cinema:

and in the square down the road a young woman was singing while people browsed a market full of posh foodstuffs. Priuses abound, and a Tesla (license plate: NUCULER) was pulling up. In short, Palo Alto is pretty much every west-coast stereotype you could call to mind. The only thing that stood out to me was the amazing Methodist church:

Sadly I couldn't get a photo inside – a service was taking place – but it's quite lovely, with those tiny windows filled with stained glass picking out coloured spots to illuminate the cavernous interior. Heading out into suburbia you pass lawn signs showing support for green energy, and posh residences complete with landscaped gardens and flags up for sale:

and beyond that to the North, the freeway and then the bay. And that was it – a flying visit to Palo Alto in just a few hours before the jet-lag killed me and I had to sleep. Oh, but what's on TV in Palo Alto? Mainly this, looping every few minutes:

I'd vote for the guy. The next day was all work, reporting from a Symantec press event in Mountain View, but on the Friday I moved up to San Francisco – more on that here.

2010 is, we're told, the year of 3D television, so February 2010 was the month where I travelled to Vienna to see some of the new sets they'll be selling very soon. These are actually quite impressive, with the two caveats that they'll cost a fortune (in the region of £1500-2000) and there's very little to watch on them right now. And, obviously, the effect is somewhat better when you stack nine humongous sets on top of one another, like so:

But with that all dealt with I had three hours or so to see Vienna itself. Fortunately we were put up right in the middle of the city, at the rather posh Do and Co hotel, so I was able to stroll in a kind of circle around the town centre without wasting any time getting there in the first place.

The centre is dominated by the cathedral – huge, covered in scaffolding and with a remarkable roof that appears to have been made out of coloured Lego bricks. Past that, there are the usual shopping streets, stuffed full of horrible Mozart-themed tat shops and guarded by giant bears:

.. but then a block or so further and you hit the rather grand architecture. Incredibly grand buildings are to Vienna as fried chicken shops are to South London – one around every corner, and soon blending into one despite having actually quite different facades.

In fact, there are so many staggering bits of old architecture that people don't really seem to care – somebody was so nonplussed by this building and the statue in front of it that they saw fit to dump a huge ugly industrial generator there.

Note also the piles of snow: it was bitterly cold. Freezing slowly to death I headed further to Parliament and the Museums Quarter, which includes several apparently excellent art galleries placed around one square:

.. but it was cold, empty and desolate, and most of the galleries in the modern art museum were closed for rehanging. Not quite what I was hoping for.

Fortunately, there's one area in which Vienna can be guaranteed to excel: coffee and cake. Three of us took a trip to Café Central, apparently a favourite of Leon Trotsky, and stuffed down some of this:

And then it was time for the rush back to the airport, full of caffeine and cream, and a long time spent circling about London waiting for a landing slot at Heathrow. All in all, an interesting place – but if I ever go back I'll try to do so in summer and with time to check out the palaces properly. More photos here.

About a week ago I wrote to SouthEastern Railway's Public Affairs Manager, asking him two questions that could be answered with a simple yes or no. I didn't get a yes or no answer to either, and when I pushed for a straight answer to one of them the gentleman in question simply stopped replying to my emails. I'll publish the whole lot, names redacted, after the jump – but in summary:

A) SouthEastern Railway receives a huge subsidy from the Government in order to provide a rail service to the public. In January it failed to provide a proper service, slashing trains for three days, but it will not return an appropriate proportion of said subsidy. Nor will it donate the equivalent amount to charity, which is a shame – the DEC could undoubtedly use a few extra hundred thousand pounds right about now.

B) By cutting its service to an emergency timetable before a flake of snow had fallen, it seems* that SouthEastern ensured that its reliability would be measured against this reduced timetable. As this reliability statistic is used to calculate refunds, this gives it a fighting chance of avoiding the need to refund season ticket holders.

The downside, of course, is that many of its customers get left out in the snow, unable to use the train tickets they paid for. Fans of the absurd will note that the company has since published figures claiming 97.5% (Mainline) and 97.3% (Metro) reliability for the December to January period.

Or, to put it another way:

• The taxpayer pays SouthEastern via a £136m subsidy
• We, the customers, pay SouthEastern for our tickets
• SouthEastern decides not to run a service
• Most customers are left stranded
• Neither the taxpayer or the customer gets a refund

And it's important to note here that, under the National Rail Conditions of Carriage and the Passengers' Charter, this is all perfectly legal.

Evidently some kind of political action is required to ensure that this kind of debacle isn't repeated every time the weather forecast looks unpleasant, so I wrote to a few politicians: my MP, my AM and the Transport Minister.

My AM, Len Duvall, didn't reply – I received a response from his assistant promising a "considered response", but none came. My MP, Bridget Prentice, did contact the company on my behalf and put up with a flurry of CC'd emails from me, for which I'm thankful. As for the Transport Minister, like several people I received a response that in parts bore an uncanny similarity to the documents issued by SouthEastern itself. Nonetheless, it also said:

".. we will be conducting a review of the experience of the service that was provided between the 6th and 8th January 2010. This review will cover all aspects of service provision. Where any areas for improvement are identified, we will ensure that proper action is taken to deliver the required improvement.

Your email has also highlighted the difference between services provided across Sussex and Wessex despite simiar forecasts. We will be seeking understand (sic) from all parties involved the reasons for this. Until this review is complete, I cannot comment on how appropriate Southeastern's response was when compared to the actions taken by other operators."

So there's some hope for the future, and I await the findings of that review with interest. In the meantime, I'm sure our beloved Mayor will sort it out at the Emergency Rail Summit he promised to hold within a few weeks of his election.

* I say "seems to" because when asked whether this is the case the Public Affairs Manager stopped answering my emails. I've waited a week and re-sent the email, but to no avail. If he'd care to get back to me and assure me that this is not the case, I'll be happy to correct this immediately. In the meantime, a parliamentary answer from the 25th of January confirms that, unless SouthEastern should choose otherwise, this is the case.

For the sake of completeness, my full email conversation with SouthEastern is copied after the jump.

(more…)

The fallout from SouthEastern Railway's utter failure to cope with the recent snow continues, and you'll find a good summary of the latest developments here. One thing to add is that, of the three politicans I contacted, one has sent a proper reply.

Bridget Prentice MP (for Lewisham East) confirmed receipt of my letter via email, then sent a full response by post. In it she said:

"…I am very sorry to hear of these concerns and hope they can be addressed in full very soon.

I have written to South Eastern Trains's Public Affairs Manager and have raised with him your concerns. I have asked him to respond to these concerns, and to let me know what South Eastern intends to do in future to ensure that services will not be affected by weather doncitions in the way they have over the past few days. As soon as I have a reply, I will write to you again."

This seems to me more than fair, and I'm grateful for Ms Prentice's intervention. I now look forward to the company's reply – not least to see if it bears many similarities to the less-than-helpful ones received by Bexcentric and published here.

Update: On the 23rd of January I received, via the office of Ms Prentice, a 'Briefing Document' from SouthEastern Trains. It's the same document already sent to Bexcentric, and published here.

In response, I've sent the following back to the company, with Ms Prentice CC'd:

Dear Mr [Contact name]

Thanks for passing on, via Bridget Prentice MP, the SouthEastern Railways briefing document regarding the limited service operated on the 5th to 8th January – I note that this response has also been distributed to others. I do have two further questions, however, which I'd appreciate if you could answer.

Given that:

* According to your document, on the 6th of January SouthEastern ran 665 services rather than 2024 – less than one third of a standard timetable, thus leaving up to two-thirds of customers unable to use the service they pay for

* Southern Railways, which operates the same "third rail" electrification system on infrastructure also provided by Network Rail, attempted to run a full service that day, as it did throughout the period of 6-8 January

* SouthEastern Railways receives a significant subsidy from the taxpayer to operate its services – a subsidy that, in 2009, worked out at over £350,000 per day

* On the 9th of January, despite no improvement in weather conditions, SouthEastern decided that it was suddenly able to provide a full Saturday timetable – with more trains and later running than during the 5th to 8th January.

SouthEastern Railway customers could be forgiven for getting the impression that both:

A) The management of SouthEastern Railway cut its service from Weds 6th to Friday 8th in order to avoid damaging its punctuality and reliability statistics, and thus avoid paying compensation to customers as per its 'Passengers' Charter' rather than out of necessity (after all, on Saturday 9th, when the charter no longer applied, the service immediately recovered), and

B) The management of SouthEastern Railway have no intention of delivering value to the taxpayer in return for its Government subsidy.

So, I have two questions. Both can be answered with a simple yes or no:

1) In order to avoid the appearance of slashing services merely to avoid paying passenger compensation, will SouthEastern mark its own  reliability results down to 32.8% (per your running statistics: 665/2024 = 0.328) over the three day period of 6-8 Jan, thus providing a fair chance of customers receiving reasonable compensation for its limited service over this period?

2) In order to avoid the appearance of taking a huge subsidy but providing a service only when it sees fit, will SouthEastern return an appropriate percentage of its last subsidy – say 67% (again, per your statistics) of the amount of subsidy received per day, for three days? Alternatively, perhaps an equivalent sum – I make it just under £749,000 – could be donated, as a gesture of goodwill, to the DEC Appeal for Haiti, providing a positive end to this entire debacle.

Many thanks for your time, and I look forward to hearing from you.

All the best

Tom

Will update when I hear back.

On Tuesday night, with snow forecast for the South East, SouthEastern railways introduced an emergency timetable for Wednesday. As it happens, South Eastern London didn't see that much snow, but with fewer and shorter trains serving the area on Wednesday morning, Hither Green station looked a bit like this:

All the trains were packed, and commuters were stranded. Many gave up entirely and went home. The situation was made worse as SouthEastern proceeded to cancel all metro services that night (lines closed around 8pm) and implement the same severely limited timetable today and, as it stands, tomorrow. You can read far more comprehensive accounts of the failure at Londonist here and 853 here.

Londonist asked SouthEastern what on earth was going on, and received the following:

"The decision to run a revised timetable was made based on the advice from Network Rail, who has responsibility for the track and they decide what service we will be able to provide.

They were out overnight with de-icing trains and we also ran ghost trains around the entire network, not just in London.

To ensure that we were able to provide a reliable service throughout the entire day and have the right staff and rolling stock in place for the evening peak, when the worst of the snow and ice hit London, we needed to run the revised timetable from the morning, as it would have been almost impossible to implement at the last minute for the afternoon. Our trains also come into London from across Kent where they will, of course, also be subject to the snow and icy conditions found there.

We told passengers at the earliest possible moment on Tuesday of the revised timetable through texts, emails, station notices, onboard announcements, station announcements and providing extra staff at stations, as well as advising the media of the plans.

The revised timetable remains in place for today (Thursday) and tomorrow (Friday) and we are asking passengers to check with National Rail Enquiries for services and to check when their last train home tonight will be."

So apparently it's all Network Rail's fault. I asked Network Rail and, for what it's worth, here's the response I've received from the press office:

"Network Rail and the train operators (in this case Southeastern) have agreed contingency plans in place to operate train services in extreme weather conditions.

In severe winter weather running a reduced service allows us to respond to any incidents quicker, with the intention of resolving them before they have a significant knock-on impact on other services.   We do everything we can to reduce the risk of passengers being stranded on trains which can happen quickly when the network is operating at normal levels.  Both Network Rail and the train operators also face the challenges of moving staff to where they need to be to do their job, particularly when the road conditions are as severe as they are at present.

We are working closely with the train operators to run as many trains as possible.  We will continue to review the situation on a frequent basis with a view to resuming a normal service as soon as possible."

I've asked the company – whose press office has, I should add, beem prompt and helpful – why Network Rail and SouthEastern have implemented such drastic cuts while other services in far more snowy areas are carrying on regardless, and will update when I get a reply – hopefully tomorrow.

Quick update: Transport Minister Paul Clark MP has said he'll be writing to SouthEastern to ask for a meeting with management. I've raised the obvious question, but please do pass on any others.

Another update: a reply from National Rail's press office. I'd asked why SouthEastern services were so severely restricted despite minimal snowfall in the SouthEastern metro line area:

"A one-size-fits-all approach wouldn't work in these circumstances. The contingency plans in place take into account a wide range of factors specific to each route including the characteristics of the railway infrastructure itself and the type of trains which run on it.

We can assure your readers that Network Rail and Southeastern are working hard to run as many trains as possible and the plans in place aim to achieve this. We will continue to review the effectiveness of the plans and if we identify a way to improve them further, we will do so.

In addition to the volume of snow on some parts of the network, we have also experienced some problems as a result of the prolonged freezing temperatures which have been experienced in Kent. The third rail electrification system used to the south of the capital can be susceptible to this sort of weather, especially when combined with rain or melting snow. Special trains which spray hot de-icer fluid on the tracks/third rail and empty trains, known as 'ghost trains', are run across the network to try and prevent ice forming, however, if ice does form it can interfere with the power systems on the trains and cause significant disruption.

We apologise for any disruption to passenger's journeys but we have a duty of care to passengers and our staff and it would be irresponsible to ignore the severity of the forecast and how the icy conditions can result in trains being stranded. We'll continue to do what we can to run the best possible rail service in the circumstances – it is in nobody's interest to do anything other than this."

The Brunnen der Internationalen Freundschaft, photographed in 2006. Last time I went back this area was being redeveloped; not sure if the fountain survived.

It's been a while since we returned from Japan. I'm not even going to attempt to explain what it was like – just go, see, enjoy – but I did think I'd jot down a few tips for anyone planning a similarly short visit to Tokyo. And so here's the ten things that I'd absolutely recommend seeing.

1) Tsujiki

Yes, the fish market. Every guidebook will tell you to go here, and the good ones will tell you to go early in the morning while you're still suffering from the kind of jetlag that makes a 4am start seem natural rather than ungodly. Get there at 5am and fight straight through to the tuna auctions at the back, then take a walk around while trying not to get killed by the motorised carts that whiz around. The size of the market and the variety of fish on offer is genuinely breathtaking – although that may also have something to do with the heady stench of dead fish and petrol fumes.

What the guidebook won't tell you: Tokyo's subway lines don't actually start up early enough to get you here by 5am. We managed to get there by 5.30 and caught some of the tuna auctions, but if I were to do it again I'd get a cab there a bit earlier.

Photos: lots, here.

2) Shinjuku

Thanks in part to a certain massively overrated movie, Shibuya has come to signify the neon heart of Tokyo for many westerners. While it is all very impressive and worth seeing, given the choice between spending two hours wandering around Shibuya at night gawking at neon or doing the same in Shinjuku, I'd pick the latter in a heartbeat. Surrounding the frankly enormous Shinjuku Station, it sprawls out in every direction in a maze of neon signs, electronics stores, bookstores, department stores, tiny restaurants, pachinko, arcades and general chaos. The effect of walking around for a few hours after dark is a bit like being bludgeoned around the head with the world biggest, sparlkiest, loudest novelty Pokemon hammer (that is to say, brilliant).

With Shinjuku station connecting the JR lines (including the Yamanote), Tokyo Metro subways, Toei subways (Oedo line) and even the private Odakyu lines, it's also a great place to stay. We stayed in the Sunroute Plaza Shinjuku – a chain hotel that was cheapish, scrupulously clean and generally nice.

What the guidebook won't tell you: A good guidebook should mention that, with so many commuters passing through the Shinjuku area every evening, there are loads of cheap restaurants serving the usual counter-style food (katsu, don, curry, etc etc). This makes it a good place to eat for just a few hundred yen. What they don't mention is that the many ticket restaurants, where you order and pay at a machine, make life easy even for the kanji-illiterate. Oh, and there are some excellent ramen places, too.

It's also worth mentioning that Shinjuku has to be one of the biggest, most sprawling and confusing stations in the world, with about a million floors and exits, so don't ever make plans that require navigating it quickly.

Photos: a few by day, and lots by night.

3) Meiji Jingu Gyoen

The biggest and most important temple in Tokyo is probably the Yasukuni Shrine, but Yasukuni is also politically contentious – partly due to its enshrinement of over 1,000 convicted war criminals, and partly due to the Yushukan, a museum that presents a revisionist interpretation of the second world war. Both are the subject of fierce controversy within Japan. If neither dissuades you from visiting I hear it's impressive, but I decided not to attend.

Whether or not you visit Yasukini, however, the Meiji Jingu is well worth a visit. It's dedicated to the Emperor Meiji and Empress Shoken, and contains everything you'd expect from a Shinto temple on a massive scale, with unfeasibly huge and particularly beautiful Torri. On your way in, however, keep an eye to the left..

What the guidebook won't tell you: .. because otherwise you might not notice the entrance to the Gyoen. This formal garden, apparently "constructed according to the design of Emperor Meiji himself in order to give recreation to Empress Shoken", is beautiful and almost impossibly calm considering it's only a few miles from Harajuku JR station. Huge swathes are dedicated to special iris gardens, sadly not in bloom when I attended. It costs 100Y or so to enter.

Photos: here.

3) Odaiba

This man-made island is culturally about as far from the Meiji Jingu Gyoen as you can get. Guidebooks don't make much of it, and you can see why – there's a Disney-ish air to the place, all artificiality and crass commercialism – but it is, in many respects, fascinating. Go to take a look around huge, themed shopping malls such as Aqua City, then see the Statue of Liberty or even the (temporary, huge) giant Gundam robot. Odaiba also provides a great view across the bay.

What the guidebook won't tell you: Aqua City holds both the Sega Joypolis – an arcade of mindboggling size that's worth seeing even if you do have to pay to enter – and a smaller arcade dedicated to old arcade games (Namco, Taito etc) that's a must for video game geeks. Manga/anime fans should also look out for the Jump Shop.

Photos: many, including giant robots, here.

5) The Ghibli Museum, Mikata

Those who have not heard of Studio Ghibli should click here, buy a lot of DVDs, watch them, then return here. If you have seen the films, you'll want to visit this museum, located in Mikata, in the western suburbs – and in which case you'll need to buy a ticket months in advance (see below).

The museum itself is an entirely Japanese-only affair save for a single leaflet in English, but as it's targeted at kids this isn't really a problem – even if you can't read a word, there's lots to enjoy. As well as the exhibits on the making of Ghibli animations (all very hands-on, with flipbooks etc) and the reference material used (photos of European towns taken when designing the look of Kiki's Delivery Service, for example) there's a bookshop, a cafe and, best of all, a giant (as in life-sized) cat bus for small kids to play on while their older siblings and adults watch enviously. The grounds and the museum building are beautiful, and each visitor also gets to see a Ghibli film created solely for the museum in its own cinema – there are a few, and what you see is random, but ours was really rather charming.

What the guidebook won't tell you: Fortunately some friends warned us that tickets sell out months in advance, and with a very limited number released at any one time. To buy tickets in the UK, visit the My Bus travel agency – it's in the basement of the Mitsukoshi department store on Regent Street (tel 020 7976 1191). Passports are needed to prove that you're not a Japanese citizen attempting to jump the queue for tickets released in Japan. We purchased ours three months in advance. Also, the museum has a limited capacity and no timed-ticket system for international tickets – so show up early to save having to wait around outside.

Photos: are not allowed inside the museum, but a few of the outside are here.

6) Meguro

An odd one, this, but stick with me: one afternoon I found myself in Ebisu outside an annoyingly closed beer museum, so with two hours to kill I took a walk. I got totally, utterly lost, ended up in Meguro and was thoroughly glad I did.

Meguro isn't at all touristy, although it does play home to a castle-shaped love hotel, the biggest and scariest wedding shop you've ever seen, a rather beautiful shrine dedicated to the victims of a great fire and, apparently, the Curl Up Cafe cat cafe (didn't see this myself). It's worth visiting for an hour or so, though, to see a bit of everyday Tokyo life outside the neon-craziness of Shinjuku and the other central areas – it's full of coffee shops, pachinko parlours and people just getting on with stuff. Be prepared to be stared at a little more than usual.

What the guidebook won't tell you: Pretty much anything at all. I think mine mentioned the Meguro Gajoen, which is indeed worth seeing.

Photos: a few here.

7) The Shinkansen

If you go to Japan, get a Shinkansen at some point. If you have the time, I'd say Kyoto would be a good destination – we didn't, so we went to Hakone for the Onsen (see #8) – but the journey is, in this case, as important as the destination. Why so good? Well:

1. They are as fast as bloody hell. Or possibly much faster. When the really fast services fly past in bad weather you can actually see a shockwave push the rain out of the way in front of them. Zwoosh.
2. Despite this, the train runs so smoothly it could be gliding on ice.
3. They are so punctual that the average deviation from the timetable, averaged over 160,000 trips, is around six seconds. Six fucking seconds. In a country that gets regularly whunked by earthquakes.
4. People don't talk on the sodding mobile phone on Japanese trains.

Or to put it another way: ride a Shinkansen and the utter shitness of all other trains, everywhere in the world, becomes abundantly clear. This is how rail transport should work.

What the guidebook won't tell you: This isn't Shinkansen related, but it is to do with trains: when you arrive at Narita, buy the N'EX and Suica special deal. This gets you the fast service into Tokyo, plus an Oyster-style card that works on all JR and subway (Toei and Tokyo Metro) lines in the city, at a discount.

Photos: see inside the Shinkansen here and here.

8) Onsen

I don't have a photo of this one, for reasons that will become obvious: onsen are Japanese hot spring baths. In order to partake of a traditional one you'll have to leave Tokyo; we headed to Hakone, near Mt Fuji. Some can be used for a fee, while many are reserved for the guests of a particular hotel or ryokan (traditional inn). We stayed in a ryokan with its own onsen – I'd recommend this, although it is very expensive by budget-travel standards. Look for outdoor onsen with a view if the weather's good.

However you get to an onsen, though, you'll come out feeling either invigorated, broiled or both. I was sceptical, but it's absolutely worth trying: cooking slowly in a hot pond while looking out over the mountains and forests of Japan at 7am is a fantastic way to start the day.

What the guidebook won't tell you: Onsen etiquette is pretty complicated. At the end of the day, however, it boils down to something like this: make sure you go in the right onsen (learn the kanji for Male and Female, or just ask someone), get completely naked leaving your clothes in the ante-chamber, wash yourself thoroughly while sitting on a bucket type thing that'll be provided, then get in the bath and cook. I've heard that "modesty towels" are a must, but I didn't see a single person bothering with this – instead small towels were used solely for brow-mopping.

Photos: of the onsen? Er, no. Photos of the ryokan and beautiful Hakone are here.

9) Eat until your body complains, and then some more

If you don't like Japanese food then Tokyo is, funnily enough, not a good place to visit. If you do, then it's obviously time to get stuck in. We ate one formal dinner at the ryokan (above), then largely concentrated on the "great cheap food" variety: sushi, katsu, don, noodles of every shape and size, gyoza, yakitori and so on. Oh, and ramen. You can buy passable ramen in London, but nothing I've had anywhere else compares with the real stuff in Tokyo. And the grilled fish is also great. And there's good beer. And shochu.

What the guidebook won't tell you: Ordering can be tricky when menus are in kanji, but knowing the words for one, two, this one and that one can get you a very long way on most menus, especially when many cheaper restaurants include images of set meals. Also, try giru – cold soba noodles that you slurp through a small container of soy-ish broth. I'd never heard of them before, and they're great.

Photos: Not really, no. I was too busy stuffing my face.

10) Fuji-San

No trip to Japan would be complete without seeing the iconic Mr Fuji, right? Er, probably – except we failed on this count. Part of the reason for heading out to Hakone was to see Fuji from one of the many viewing points in the area, but sadly we were foiled by thick clouds at every turn. Hope you have better luck.

What the guidebook won't tell you: That even in the middle of summer it gets incredibly cloudy up in the mountains around Owakudani. Although, to be fair, we should have guessed.

Photos: fail.

And that's it. It's not a complete account by any means, but I hope this might prove at least vaguely useful to somebody. We'll be going back as soon as possible – next time to hopefully include Kyoto and a glimpse of that mountain – and I'll update this with any new information as and when I can.

Entire set of photos here, or broken down by location here.