Travel

Memories are Made of THIS?!

Looking for value in pieces of the past

I have a number of failings when it comes to souvenirs. Yes, I’m getting my excuses out in the opening paragraph: I’m unable to meet Linda Ng’s initial challenge of five keepsakes, and won’t live up to Belcairn’s of being interesting. In fact, I’m writing this sooner than planned so I’m not tagged again and end up being a triple failure!

Anyway, as I said, I have my shortcomings when it comes to souvenirs. One is that I think too much when browsing. If I don’t pick up something immediately, I’ll walk around the gift shop a dozen times in frustration. Invariably, I give up refusing to settle on an unwanted item.

Another is that I’ll baulk at the price of some insignificant trinket and instead spend the money on stuffing my face with something I couldn’t get at a UK McDonald’s.

Then there’s the fact that I usually go to the same places all the time: Tokyo, Hong Kong, and Seoul.

But the main one — and everything funnels down to this— is that I’m simply selfish or perhaps childish when it comes to souvenirs. I never think that someone else might like that or it’s just a little reminder of the place. It’s always a case of I don’t like that so...

(I’d like to add that it’s nothing to do with money. I’ll happily buy almost anything if someone asks for it — even duty-free cigarettes — it’s just that I don’t think.)

When it comes to souvenirs I’m in complete contrast to my mum and sister — they’re naturally gifted (ba-dum tish!). I’ve seen fewer barnacles on wave-drenched, salt-encrusted rocks than fridge magnets on my parents’ fridge.

What I’m writing about here are things that are not only close to hand but items that I consider souvenirs. I view them as distinct from other pieces bought abroad, which still have stories and memories, but could have been sourced at home. So no T-shirts, headphones, or even the Xbox (I pack light) from Tokyo.

The Measure of a Boy

When I was a kid, holidays were either to Malaysia every few years to see family, road trips, or mini cruises. Because photography wasn’t a hobby as such back then, all I have are sketchy memories and the odd souvenir or two.

I can remember a tam o’ shanter from Scotland, a red T-shirt with a cartoon rugby player from Wales, and a driving licence from Legoland in Denmark. They’re no longer things I can touch and hold.

All I bought from Malaysia were comics and toys to keep me occupied until I discovered music in 1986.

These shot glasses were from European coach trips to Germany and Austria. The printed names tell me that I’ve been there but I remember nothing of these places (I had to Google Altenahr). The memories are just fragments scattered in the recesses of my mind; assembled they offer no coherent narrative: a film watched on the coach, the upstairs bedroom of a guest house, eating pasta, drinking hot chocolate in the afternoon…

I’ve held onto these glasses for over 30 years. I keep foreign coins in them; the ones that were neither left on the hotel nightstand nor placed in the airline charity envelope. Empty they would be filled with dust and nothing else.

Box of Delights

I bought a lot of things during my first visit to Japan in 2006. I have a yukata that’s too big for me length-wise, a small artwork that I still haven’t framed, the aforementioned Xbox, and this small, delightful box.

It’s known as a himitsu-bako or puzzle/secret/trick box, and they originate from Hakone, which isn’t that far from Tokyo. They come in various sizes (mine is possibly the smallest and least intricate) and there is no adhesive holding it together — it’s all tightly-fitted slots and grooves.

There is some stickiness associated with the geometric design. Yosegi-zaiku is a form of marquetry that was developed in Hakone hundreds of years ago. Different types of wood are glued together in rods, which is then sliced off into panels, lacquered, and then used to decorate items.

It was our coach tour guide that mentioned himitsu-bako as we visited the sulphurous hot springs at Owakudani. Most people were interested in eating the black-shelled boiled eggs (you’re literally walking on egg shells in some areas) but the puzzle boxes were the bigger draw for me.

In case you’re curious, I keep the instructions on how to open the box inside it.

If the Cap Fits…

I remember being on an open-top tour bus during my first trip to New York in 2005. It was at some point towards the end, after passing the UN Headquarters, that I placed my generic Nike baseball cap on my lap. I was stupidly surprised on the sidewalk a little while later that I no longer had a cap on my head.

I bought a NY Yankees cap as a replacement, which to my disappointment I can’t find at the moment.

It wasn’t exactly the start of a baseball cap-buying boom: I didn’t buy another in lieu of a traditional souvenir until five years later. That was in Seoul in 2010. It’s the LG Twins one with the yellow peak; I picked it up in a sports shop somewhere near the Olympic Stadium.

Added soon after was a Yomiuri Giants cap (not pictured — I found it hours after taking the photo) despite having visited Tokyo several times already. The HT cap (Hanshin Tigers) in the background is from my last visit to Japan in 2018 and my second time in Osaka.

The Hard Rock Cafe one is seemingly a disappointing purchase. But the trip to Orlando in 2011 was a sort of ‘goodbye to childhood’ holiday (I was in my mid-30s!); I re-visited Universal Studios after 16 years and finally saw the Indiana Jones show. It was my first visit to a Hard Rock and it happened to be its 40th anniversary too — you can see part of the zero in the photo.

The Guinness model was a gift from my parents when they went on a mini cruise around Scotland and over to Ireland. It’s an example of how they think about souvenirs and contrasts with how I don’t.

The blue cap will be recognisable to Canadians — it’s the Toronto Blue Jays. I took photos at the CN Tower but ignored the gift shop and made my way over to the Rogers Centre.

I did buy a cap in Hong Kong but it was an expensive and utterly unremarkble Under Armour one. I bought it more for practical reasons, and because of its cost I was slightly pissed off when I lost it in Seoul in 2019.

Again for the curious: I’ve never even watched a baseball game.

If you haven’t done so already please read Linda and Belcairn’s stories: