Around the world in 11 days

I am now on my 11th and final day of a round-the-world trip and will soon start my descent to Heathrow. At the moment I’m somewhere just south of Hanover on a Singapore A380, the mood lighting is nudging the cabin from slumber and I’m trying to jettison as much paper as possible. I overdid it on the reading material front and want to be as nimble as a house mouse when I alight. These “round the world in just over a week” journeys are always revealing because they expose the stark contrasts that still exist in a world that’s supposedly becoming more globalised. From Frankfurt to Washington, New York to Tokyo, Hong Kong to Singapore, here’s a handful of observations from the rails, the back seat, the lounge and the pavement.

1. There’s hope for US transport infrastructure. While I won’t be flying in or out of Washington’s Dulles airport anytime soon (read last week’s Fast Lane), I do think there’s hope for the flying- and train-loving public if transport secretary Ray LaHood sticks around. Shortly after my Dulles experience I hosted LaHood and his wife at a cocktail party in DC and was not only charmed by LaHood’s passion for laying as much high-speed rail track as possible but also his desire for US hubs to be world-class players again. Needless to say, he wasn’t thrilled to hear about the performance of the capital’s international gateway.

2. There’s little hope for the English language. I almost opted for the quiet carriage on the Acela high-speed train from Washington to New York but went for the last carriage instead. All was going well until we hit Baltimore airport and a platoon of consultants grabbed the set of seats behind me, furiously started assembling their PowerPoint “decks”, and broke into a language that I believe was English but not quite as I’ve ever heard it before. I realised that these fiftysomething men were fresh victims of the up-speak plague racing across the planet, but theirs was an extreme case compounded by “marketingese”. These men sounded like they could have been selling T-shirts at Abercrombie & Fitch rather than defence systems, because everything they said was punctuated with a question mark. They also seemed to be yearning for the days of rotary-style telephones because most sentences involved them somehow “dialling” something or someone. Here’s a brief transcript:

Gentleman with aluminium Thermos mug: “I’ll handle the intro to the deck but you two will have to dial down the numbers at the back.”

Gentleman with not one but two BlackBerry holsters: “Are you sure? I had a call with Frank on Friday and he said we needed to airlift some new figures in for the client. I think it’s more of a case of dialling everything up in terms of detail.”

Gentleman with iPad propped up against his Dell: “I have to agree. Why don’t we dial down the summary numbers at the front and then we can circle back with more detail if they go for a deep dive on it and dial it up or down from there.”

I attempted to stay with the conversation but found it so depressing that I returned to listening to the World Service.

3. You don’t have to lose your funk at 70 – particularly if you’re a Japanese gentleman. At a reception at Tokyo retailer Tomorrowland on Friday I was surrounded by the sort of dapper, polished and in some cases extremely funky gentlemen who seem to exist only in Japan. It takes a certain confidence to pull off raw indigo shorts, patchwork hobo style blazer, Hermès nautical kerchief, spectator brogues and linen riding cap at 75. Japan’s population might be greying, but they’re not losing their groove.

4. The department store is alive and well in Ginza. Saks, Neiman-Marcus, Harvey Nichols, Printemps, Holt Renfrew, David Jones and any other department group trying to figure out their next move should visit the refreshed and expanded Mitsukoshi in Ginza.

Having just relaunched, the venerable retailer has kept the best of the old bits, overhauled its food hall and added an impressive line-up of restaurants. If last Saturday on the lower food floor was an indicator of how the company was trading (think queues of prim ladies shopping with their granddaughters, hundreds of couples in crinkly gingham, and packs of girls in super-wedges in search of macaroons), then things might be looking up. As my colleague Andrew commented: “It’s like everyone in Tokyo knows there’s a natural disaster around the corner and they’re stocking up – except it’s as if it’s all free.”

5. Whatever happened to the front desk? Why can’t hoteliers leave well enough alone? There seems to be a hospitality conspiracy to get rid of the front desk. Why? I don’t want to speak to “guest relations”, “guest experience” or “stay concierge”. A front desk will do just fine, thanks.

Tyler Brûlé is editor-in-chief of Monocle magazine

tyler.brule@ft.com

More columns at www.ft.com/brule