I'm sitting here snug in my Sofitel slippers and robe looking down at Sherbrooke Street (argh no more shops, please!) from the 15th floor. They upgraded me to a suite, they could see I needed it. My crumpled suit and the charcoal cavities beneath my eyes must have moved the receptionist. Although, this is my second upgrade this week. I stayed 3 nights at the Zaza and they did exactly the same thing. They also provided me with two extra large condoms, a packet of lube and my own personal oxygen cannister. If only.

Travelling fucking sucks. These planes, they all get delayed. You miss meetings and connections and the check-in staff are botoxed into a total lack of empathy. I is pointless to care. I have learned their craft in one swift week. I am the water off a duck's arse.

I have been to Japan, Texas and Quebec in the same week - all foreign countries. All with great service. All not New York - a city I am pining for these days.

This is my first stay in a Sofitel - a hotel chain which has been highly recommended to me for three years by a particularly good friend of mine who took me here for dinner tonight, a place which rates up there with my all times favourites ever. Like a mixture of WD50 with Blue Hill. Strangely bizarre that I spent a whole week recently laboring over which of those to I would rather have someone take me on Tuesday. [I shouted for Blue Hill in the end, just cos it's closer to my apartment]. Anyway whenever you feel like going to Montreal call L'epicier at least three weeks in advance. You will not be disappointed, especially if you go with the degustation menu - it kicks the arse off French Laundry, an overrated jerk circle of a restaurant.

But what the fuck happened to the Canadian $, people? My handy hotel guide tells me the rate is CS$1.09 to the US$. I came here three years ago when it was closer to $2 to $1. Argh. This is not a cheap town - it makes Tokyo look like Blackpool.

Ah Tokyo. The home of the best sushi in the world - and here for all to try at a reasonable price. Try it here. Knock yourself out. We did.

That's enough of my public service announcement. It snowed here in Montreal tonight. I'm sleeping in tomorrow, if my jet lag will let me.

Su Ki Da

Miss you already.

It's easy when you're big in Japan



Only I'm not apparently.

I always forget something. This time it was bras. Not such a big deal for me since technically I don't really need them but I thought hey I might actually be in a country where my size is generally in stock. Perhaps there are even some nuances here that take me into account.

So off I trundled into the shopping area of shinjuku-ku in search of something fabulous. Isetan certainly is that. I have finally got used to the shouted greeting and the constant bowing. Well, nearly anyway. Certainly keeps my greasy fingers from touching the suede in the handbag section anyway. These perfect ladies make me feel like a huge hulking sweaty smelly oaf.

I was fascinated by the Ladies Black Formalwear section on the third floor. They even have a question and answer book as to how to dress and beahve like a perfect blackclad doll. Small bag, polite shoes, hat, gloves and pearls. It's a level of demure I could never attain and seeing these ladies and their poise I am jealous. But really though I just want one of them in my house, silently gliding about, fixing my tea and giving me a foot massage. Oh and smelling nice. Which they all do.

The purchase of a perfect Japanese style ladies formalwear dress later, I headed up to lingerie. I didn't even have to jab around looking lost for a millisecond before an assistant appeared and slapped her tape measure around my braless torso. I am a 75A in Japan. That's like the smallest cup size but the largest width size. And then a LARGE in anything else. It's just not fair. Lovely assistant lady then scooped up numerous bras and showed me into a changing room which was decked out almost as lavishly as my hotel bathroom. Well, half as lavishly.

Once I had the bra on she came back wearing white gloves (which everyone seems to here) and then fitted me properly, tidying away numerous folds of flesh and oh so politely. Fab.

I had to buy two. Mainly because she was so nice but also because they were just so kawaii. She's studying English. When I left she almost put her head on the floor. It's quite exhausting all this politeness.

I never want to leave this country. Well what I actually mean is I never want to leave this hotel and so far I haven't. The view of Mount Fuji from my bedroom window is out of this world. This bedroom is out of this world and has more sqft than my apartment. This does not offend me, since there is no wine fridge, but fuck am I painting all the wood in my apartment dark brown. So calm. So reminscent of the most weirdly fantastic service ever ever ever.

The most perfectly beautiful 5 foot Japanese lady was standing on the pavement to welcome me last night. And then I was swarmed by her army of perfectly beautiful Japanese men who removed every possible item of luggage from my person and ushered me up to reception. So gentle, so soft, such perfect perfect skin. I nearly cried. I would not have been the first. Beautiful married lady I met in the bar last night told me that she did cry when she saw the bathroom. She is from Kyoto and in town for a wedding. Her husband was in the room sleeping off the booze. I drank, she smoked. I fell in love with her. She told me I was beautiful [which, to be chronologically correct, was when I fell in love with her].

Bad news. My camera battery is dead and I have lost the charger. Fucking typical.

Curumin is at Nublu tonight. You should go. Amazing.

Note to Bjork.:

You missed a line from the lyrics of "I have seen it all"

You need something in there about this.

I think it would fit nicely between "The Eiffel Tower and the Empire State."

Also, never mind seeing the Eiffel Tower, have you done one?

If I am stressed and then add one other anxiety-related factor, my body is apt to go into some sort of toxic shock as if I had been eating out of date egg product. A week ago I lost 5 pounds in about 3 days. I am shallow enough to think of this as a positive outcome but now that functioning is back to normal, I fear the rapid unsightlies as anyone in the mid to late of any decade generally does.

I am also wondering whether my trip next week to Japan will in any way hinder my resolve to stay on sternum alert. Not sure whether I will be stuffing my face with Japanese food or not - maybe the massive jet lag will kill hunger.

Obviously I am whopping it up with hotels. Sad tourist on a week's vacation and no time for hassle, I am traipsing in the footsteps of Sophia Coppola and staying here. Mainly because I have no imagination and plan to drink myself through despair in the hotel bar next Sunday night. Come and say hi!

And if you needed any further evidence that I am a simpleton, I am also going to be checking in here at some stage next week.

You know, last time I was in Asia, I got bed bugs at Charlie Hut on Chaweng Beach. I have gone to the dark side. It's nice here.