The Call of Distant Lands: Asia Part 1

This Blog is dedicated to the memory of Afsin A.Trisha

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The World may be bruised in all manner of ways but its beauty is ever present and evident in a wealth of cultural diversity across the globe. The city of Istanbul is fascinating, not least because it’s the only city in the world that straddles two continents, and as Rob drove our beaten up old hire car halfway across the Fatih Sultan Mehmet Bridge I had a sense that our brief day trip into Asia was a seminal moment. The Bosphorus connects the Black Sea to the north with the Sea of Marmara to the south and it acted as a line on a map as it flowed sixty metres below us. Before we made the journey back across the divide we drove up to Çamlıca Hill for a spectacular view over the city, and it’s something of an experience to stand in Asia and realise that everything the other side of the Bosphorus is Europe.

Looking at the lit bridge my thoughts turn to my brother-in-law, John, who worked on it as a draughtsman back in the eighties. It's funny how we can be so far from home but so near at the same time.

Istanbul, Turkey; The Bosphorus divides Asia and Europe, seen here from Çamlıca Hill

As I stood and watched I had a feeling that something had been awakened in me. In truth, the call of distant lands was activated in me long before we crossed into Asia that day; as a child growing up in London where I watched and listened in to air traffic on approach to Heathrow, from countries I would have only just been becoming aware of. I sensed that I was getting ready to answer that call but it wouldn’t be until 2012, three years after this brief foray, that I had the opportunity to return to Asia on what I now look back now as an all too brief trip to Japan.

I was visiting family in Warsaw and connected to The Land of the Rising Sun through Helsinki. When I boarded AY77 bound for Osaka I knew that the next ten days were going to be hugely beneficial. Life had been hard for many years and my yearning to experience what the world had to offer had been reignited as I contacted the same childlike wonder I had all those years ago. This decision, to travel to the Far East on my own, signified an immeasurable self statement of liberty - to live according to the opportunities that life’s closed doors ironically makes conspicuous to us.

Navigating Japanese culture really brought home to me that most cultures don’t stand in isolation from each other, and my experience of the Japanese people demonstrated that populations the world over are essentially no different in terms of their fundamental hopes, needs and motivations. By contrast to many Asian countries English isn’t widely used or spoken in Japan, even in Tokyo, but somehow I was always able to find my way around and make myself understood. I came to understand that a genuine smile was a universal connection which could make almost any communication pleasant, interesting and effective, and I also confirmed my hunch that the three things I had learned in Japanese; “Kon’nichiwa”, “Arigatou” and “Sayou nara” were very useful at developing good relations.

Eight hours after leaving Helsinki, and eleven and one-half hours after departing Warsaw, we had crossed the coast of South Korea and entered Japanese airspace over the Sea of Japan. Half an hour later we descended towards Honshu where the Japanese Alps gave me my first sight of this beautiful archipelago. Tantalising views over the islands of Shōdo, Shikoku and Awaji followed before descending over Osaka Bay on final approach to KIX, an airport which is itself an absolute wonder of modern engineering. Kansai International is built upon two artificial islands some 5km from Osaka’s shoreline. The mile long terminal is supported on pneumatic stilts to adjust for sinkage. Inside, pillars are jackable and stairs have half steps, which accommodate the effects of the 38ft difference since being built in 1994. Outside, I took the bus to the Sky View Observation Terrace at the north of the airport where I enjoyed my earliest of passions for several hours, before connecting through to Tokyo Haneda.

Shikoku Island, Japan; captured while descending into Kansai International

I arrived in Tokyo that evening, armed with prints of Google maps which would get me to my traditional Japanese hotel room in the city centre. Tokyo held the distinction of being the most populous city in the world at the time and it proved to be both absorbing and a sensory over-stimulation for me. The city’s population is served by a vast multi operator metro system which makes the London Underground look like a train set, while the streets are full of people set against a backdrop of neon lighting, general noise and the smells of a big city. Shinjuku Station has over 200 exits due to the numerous lines that run in and out of it and, as one of the 3.6 million passengers that pass through it every day, it took me half an hour to work out how to get from the platform to the road access exit I had on my map.

I visited the world famous Shibuya Crossing but didn’t even try to get a window seat in Starbucks. People watching is a universal pastime and when all the lights turn red to traffic and green to pedestrians, up to 3,000 people are estimated to cross in a single, two minute cycle during rush hour. As many onlookers undoubtedly enjoyed the spectacle over coffee my alternative approach was to find a quiet window near the station, to capture this acceptable form of ‘human trafficking’ from afar before going down into the fray myself. Moving down into the thick of things can give us a feeling that we’re just part of a heaving mass of human activity, much like we might observe when looking at an ant nest that’s been opened up, but it’s very much a photographer’s pleasure to stop, detach, observe and capture the essence of whatever we perceive in the moment. Did anyone notice me? Did anyone care? – I don’t know, but I captured some interesting material, all the same.

I went to a noodle bar where a man was slurping his meal from a bowl. I read that, in Japan, the louder we slurp our noodles the bigger the compliment it is, so I pointed to his bowl and made a face that said “one of those, please”. It got me what I wanted and I slurped. I had also read that the Metropolitan Government Building had an observation deck which offered a great view over the city, but it also came with a caveat for those who get a bit queasy or travel sick. It takes 50 seconds to get to the 45^th floor so, allowing 5 seconds for each of the acceleration and deceleration stages, I estimate that it takes less than a second per floor when in full flight. It felt like it, and the view was quite something. At dusk, a few high rise buildings in the immediate foreground are juxtaposed against an almost uniform sea of light which extends as far as the eye can see, giving us a real sense of just how vast this city is.

Tokyo, Japan; seen from the 45^th floor of the Metropolitan Government Building

The building is a short walk from Shinjuku Station and the view over the metropolis is both beautiful and a stark contrast to the day I had spent travelling around the Hakone region. Japan has indisputable natural beauty and my self-described itinerary had a perfectly placed trip around the lakes and mountains to the south, as a welcome balance to the city’s stimulation. I started out early under clear blue skies on a train from Shinjuku, and it wasn’t too long before I caught sight of Mount Fuji in the distance. The early hours are the best times to see the iconic volcano in cloudless skies, but by the time I was near enough to photograph the revered mountain it had become semi-decked in cloud. My travel ticket was accompanied by a map which took me on a round-trip route on the clean and efficient Japanese transport system. It was easy and pleasurable to navigate the trains, cable cars, boats and mountain railways that reminded me very much of the way that the transport in Switzerland is organised. It was especially pleasant for this half-Swiss traveller abroad to find two Swiss cowbells hanging at the Hakone-Tozan mountain railway station in Gora.

Ten days passed quickly and although the trip gave me little more than an introduction to Asia, the continent had one more gem to reveal to me on the return flight from Narita to Helsinki. Russian airspace was open to all at that time (Russia invaded Ukraine on 24 February, 2022 and closed its airspace to all but its allies) and we would track over Siberia for around 6 hours on a route that would take us close to the Arctic Circle. Most of my fellow passengers slept in the darkened cabin while a few watched movies on their IFE screens. My window shade remained permanently open as I watched in quiet awe at the landscape slipping quietly by some 7 miles below us. The light and relief on the topography at these heights and latitudes are simply wonderful, and my eyes became transfixed upon some of the most beautiful natural scenes I’ve seen anywhere in the world.

Eastern Siberia, Russia; seen en route from Tokyo Narita to Helsinki Vantaa from a height of 38,000 feet

Sleep was the last thing on my mind and the in flight entertainment was far more enticing on the outside than inside. Crystal clear skies were like an ever changing artist’s pallet as we chased the sunset on our route further west and dusk went through several iterations without us ever entering nightfall. Bright azure tones evolved into multicoloured bands of cyan, orange and magenta before they resolved to a half-pink half-blue canvass as we passed south of Yakutsk. By the time a Japan Airlines ‘Triple-Seven’ overtook us a thousand feet below us and to our right it had metamorphosed into a deep, muted blue blanket. Further on, the River Yenilsel snaked across our flight path as our vapour trails fizzled out behind us with the sky slowly returning to the pinks and blues seen earlier. As surely as an enchore follows a virtuoso performance, another 'blue hour' followed to bring the three hour symphony of colour in the heavens to its conclusion.

I felt enormously privileged. I could never have planned these beautiful experiences although, I have to admit, I’m usually very thoughtful about increasing my chances of capturing something special when I choose flights and seats. I was rewarded far beyond expectations on this flight and as if to tell me that the planets were now aligning for me to be able to travel to parts unknown, the Moon came into view and was closely followed by what I strongly suspected was Jupiter. Once home, I post-processed the images and checked the date against planetary positions on Google. The confirmation of my sensibilities couldn’t have been stronger when I read that on the very day I had captured the image, Jupiter, Moon and Earth were in perfect celestial alignment with one another.

Siberia, Russia; Earth, Moon and Jupiter in perfect celestial alignment, captured from Finnair 74

The best things in life are indeed free.

I would explore ten countries over the following twelve months, some more than once, and it was a happy coincidence that I departed for the US on exactly the same date as my return flight from Tokyo. I mostly travelled in and around Europe, sometimes with or to friends and sometimes alone. However, inspired by a mutual wish to fly on one of the few routes serviced by the last remaining passenger MD11s, a brief visit to the Middle East with my close friend and fellow aviation geek, Aziz, spawned a conversation that would see my Bangladeshi friend offer me the opportunity to visit Dhaka a few months later. Japan had been the most exotic place to which I had previously ventured but one thing lead to another as we discussed the possibility of subsequently flying on the last remaining, and soon to be retired, passenger DC10s in service - operated by Biman Bangladesh Airlines.

I’ve often travelled to new places where the impetus was provided by a particular interest, but Aziz knew me well and understood that I had a genuine desire to gain first-hand experience of what Bangladesh and its culture was like. I was honoured that he was prepared to facilitate a visit, because he knew I wouldn’t be dismissive or judgemental about the stark realities that confront us when experiencing a socio-economic culture which is a whole world away from European comfort.

Dhaka is one of the most densely populated mega cities on the planet and this was my first deep dive into the underdeveloped world. Aziz picked me up at the airport but he had a lot more business to attend to than anticipated, so I came under the able care of Karib and Ether, who I knew from online acquaintance. Both were busy forging lives for themselves; Ether pursuing a career in IT while Karib was plotting his course to go on and become a commercial pilot, but they generously gave their time to show me around. The experiences I gained while in their company were both memorable and hugely important to me, and I am very thankful to have been under the care of friends who helped me make sense of the vastly different expression and organisation of life I was experiencing.

Even so, the sense of bewilderment I had in experiencing what I can best describe as an almost impenetrable, semi-ordered chaos of a truly Asian city took two days to subside. My primary aim was to observe and record my experiences from behind the lens and Karib was somewhat surprised when I asked to stop at the roadside; to watch and capture the scenes on the multi-lane highway where beaten up buses, trucks, CNGs (tuk tuks which run on carbon neutral gas) and a host of other vehicles sped past. Pedestrians crossed by dodging the traffic, others sat atop buses (the cheap seats) holding umbrellas, a workman mortared curb stones at the roadside with only a single bamboo guard rail propped up against a tin drum as a Health & Safety measure, and someone lay asleep on the pavement, wrapped in plastic sheeting. These weren’t scenes I was accustomed to at all and we must have spent a good 15 minutes at the roadside before we moved on.

Dhaka, Bangladesh; buses operate with a two man crew with the doorman providing a lookout and helping hand

I took my friends’ advice very seriously; “don’t give money on the streets – you could cause a riot” and “don’t photograph the police” are sound, but the photographer in me has a certain surreptitious artistry about him. Four or five policemen had eyes on me as I walked past their shelter, but they were unaware that I had captured them by literally shooting from the hip. At times, photography can have a thrill which isn't dissimilar to hunting.

This trip was a realisation of a deep longing in me which I knew would have a profound effect. It is to my everlasting thanks and appreciation that my ‘deshi’ friends were on hand, to satisfy my curiosity and inform my observations and experiences as I photographed this captivating place and its enchanting people. It was something I had only ever dreamt of before but there I was in Dhaka, free as a bird and in full flow of life.

Dhaka, Bangladesh; the narrow lanes of Old Dhaka are a hive of industry

By the time my brief visit was over I had witnessed a starving man at the road side, survived being hurled into the road as the wheel of our rickshaw hit a massive chasm, hailed CNGs, ridden the bustling lanes of Old Dhaka, whiled away an hour in a Kosha on the Lesser Ganges, watched a monitor lizard cross Shahjalal International’s inner perimeter road from a residential roof terrace, and climbed through a narrow hatch onto the roof of a multi-storey building with a sheer drop on all sides - for an alternative perspective over the airfield and surrounding area.

It’s said that where there is a will there is a way and I’ve found that life does tend to present us with opportunities which can help us fulfill our dreams, so long as we stay grounded and true to our nature.

To write Thank you guys! could never really communicate the gratitude I have for the time I spent with Karib and Ether, or to my dear friend Aziz for making the trip possible. Memories live on in images but, more than that, the experiences I had in this enthralling city proved to be pivotal in my life’s journey.

Dhaka, Bangladesh; Karib and Ether demonstrate that where there is a will, there is a way

There is nothing certain in life apart from the fact that we have limited time on Earth, and it is with that thought that I’m compelled to dedicate this blog to our beloved friend, Trisha. I met Trisha for the first and only time on my last full day in Dhaka. Friendship was immediate and the day turned out to be one of the most influential days I have had on my travels. I was the only Western face around and, like Karib and Ether, Trisha made accessible what would have seemed impossible for me to navigate on my own. Before we headed for Old Dhaka we visited the university’s Faculty of Fine Arts as we shared perspectives, philosophies, family stories, cultural ideas, history and other aspects of life along the way.

Trisha was a vibrant, humble and deeply insightful woman. Strong in character, intelligent and creative in her thinking, she drew immediate respect and admiration from me. We found common ground with ease and kept in touch now and then via the internet, but it was to my great shock and immense sadness that I learned, in October 2024, that she is no longer with us.

I have a deep sense of gratitude for the fact that our lives crossed, even though it was for such a brief time. In many ways we lived far more in that one day than some people do in a lifetime, and I’m sure she will live long in the memories and hearts of all who knew her. That’s certainly true for me so I write, with gratitude; Thank you for the life you lived, Trisha... until we meet again.

Lower Ganges, Dhaka, Bangladesh; In Loving Memory of Trisha

I returned to the UK with Aziz in the knowledge that I had experienced something I had quietly yearned for ever since those days watching air traffic flying in over London from afar. More than any other trip this one provided important answers to my childlike curiosity but I wasn’t able to return to Asia until 2016, a full three years after my trip to Bangladesh. An opportunity to take several weeks off work met with the loving enthusiasm of the woman I adore who encouraged me to explore Thailand, a country which held no small significance in her own life’s walk.

In part two, I tell of how Thailand and Singapore have left their impressions on this traveller of time and space.

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