JetMoney

Arzak: a stand-alone reason to visit San Sebastian

LUCKY travellers are sometimes fortunate enough to experience something, or come across a place, so special that, in itself, would motivate a return to an area. Restaurante Arzak (pronounced Ar-thack), which has three Michelin stars, is one such place for JetMoney.

Lunch there yesterday was truly remarkable across many levels - the generosity of spirit of the father-and-daughter team Juan Mari and Elena Arzak, who walked the floors greeting guests and explaining the background and construction of various dishes; the small but comfortable dining room; but most especially the food. You expect clever food at three-star restaurants but you can't hope that everything will be delicious. It was here.

From the outset we knew this was going to be great meal, as Arzak himself stood beside us, dictating to his maitre d' a degustation menu designed just for us.

First came a series of beautiful looking and individually tasty amuses, the favourites of which were a crunchy mouthful of rice-encrusted mushroom and a fun melon-wrapped goat cheese which was sprinkled with popping toffee.

Next came a perfect pairing of apple slices with foie gras: hot and delicious, the apple's acidity offset the butteriness of the foie gras giving it length without letting it be cloying. One of the biggest foie gras fans at our table rated it as one of the best dishes of the food he'd tasted in a long time. Another went so far as to deem it the best dish he'd had so far this trip.

The lobster dish that followed looked frightening at first, arriving atop a pimentos, raspberry and vermouth sauce sprinkled with what looked like flour. As it turned out, the "flour" was a form of tapioca, used on this plate as a thickening agent for the sauce, constructed by the kitchen but put into action by the diner. The sweet nature of the lobster with its snappy texture worked wonders with the gelatinous nature of the resulting sauce.

What came next was a dish not to be missed by those visiting Arzak - a "chicken and egg" combo that was part comfort food, part haute cuisine. A poached egg lay in a slightly thickened chicken stock surrounded by smatterings of crispy dried-then-fried chicken skin and slices of mushroom, all of which was draped with a freeze-dried paper-thin sheet of yolk. Every morsel was devored, our plates wiped clean with bread.

Two different fish dishes arrived after an appropriate break: monk fish with a sauce of the fish's liver, and hake with green sauce. The highlight of the latter was the block of almond, clam and "clay" that accompanied it. Also tremendous were the sides of tiny peas (remember the reference to Basque caviar?) and baby broad beans. The beans were so young they didn't need to be skinned and had an unbelievably earthy, nutty crunch. But the peas - OK, these are the best in the world so anyone who's into the vegetable needs to make the trek to the Basque region by the end of May.

Then came tender, succulent lamb with a fine romesco sauce coupled with a spoon of pimento "yolk"; and pigeon with blue potatoes in a rosemary/liver sauce. The latter was yet another clever example of how modern thickening agents are enabling chefs to create sauces that coat the tongue and give great length while remaining super fresh rather than being reduced to within an inch of their lives.

There's a lot going on with Arzak food. It's complex, but it retains balance. Everything goes together and everything tastes good. That's better than a three-star effort.

Precision pays at Mugaritz

SATURDAY night saw JetMoney enjoying one of the best overall restaurant experiences of its life, at Michelin two-starred Mugaritz.

Here is a place where nothing is left to chance. Absolutely everything is thought through and solutions arrived at that result in a seamless, precision-driven experience.

Consider the restaurant's name, for example. It's comprised of two words, "muga" and "aritz", which mean "limit" or "border", and "oak". The oak is a sizeable 400-year-old tree that sits outside the restaurant and divides two towns - Astigarraga and Errenterria. "You could be taking a drink in the [restaurant's] caseta and be in one town [the former]," explains chef Andoni Luis Adruiz, "then go inside to eat and be in another [Errenterria]."

That tree is an integral part of the design of the restaurant, apparent on the impressive website and on all stationary, including business cards. The latter is another example of smart design, and a demonstration of how the staff at Mugaritz forms part of a whole - an integral feature of Adruiz's philosophy.

Each of the restaurant's nine managers has a square business card on a suede-like stock which, while hard to read, are each pieces of a puzzle. When flipped over and matched together, they create a version of the dandelion image used so impressively on the website and on the rough-hewn board which covers the restaurant's menus (The axe handle to which the latter is bound didn't go unnoticed, either!).

Despite the chill of the evening, JetMoney entered Mugaritz to find surprising warmth in its spacious dining room given its high ceilings and walls of windows. Subtle lighting over warmly hued wood and stone furnishings and fittings, and clever, earthy room dividers probably account for most of the comfortable ambiance. Think up-market organic, an approach which extends to the kitchen and food preparation. 

Everything stems from Adruiz, a protégé of Martin Berasategui (whose three-starred Michelin restaurant in San Sebastian was voted 27th best restaurant in the world in this year's Restaurant (magazine) Top 50), and Ferran Adria of Catalonia's el Bulli (named best restaurant this year for the third time in the same award list).

It's no surprise, then, that when Adruiz opened Mugaritz in 1998 at age 27 he had big plans, informing staff at their earliest meeting: "We are here to create the best restaurant in the world."

JetMoney got to see firsthand how his detailed, precision approach to life translates to the plate, having being invited into the kitchen before dining.

Adruiz's attention to detail is apparent here more than anywhere else. Staff use tweezers to place individual flowers and micro herbs and sprouts just so on each dish, the portions produced from individual vials so each plate receives exactly the same combination of flavours and textures. Sauces, jus and soups, taste-tested by at least three people for quality control, are dispensed from test tubes, again, ensuring precision of measurement on delivery.

"In this way, everything will be consistent," says the chef. "Every plate will either be good, or every plate will be bad."

The systematic approach also makes for a very relaxed kitchen by Michelin standards. It wasn't always this way - a few impressively deep dents in a refrigerator door attest to how fiery the generally mild-mannered chef has been when things have gone awry in the past.

On to dinner and JetMoney left itself at the mercy of the chef who prepared a special menu. Many wonderful things were delivered on to the table that night. I'll just cover favourites.

Two amuses got things started spectacularly - "rocks" of edible clay-encased new potatoes served atop hot rocks, then a table plate of fresh shelled peas and sweet baby potatoes in herbs and oil. This last dish (left) was spectacular in its simple but flavour-filled presentation. The peas, known locally as Basque caviar, exploded between the teeth. It's a pity their season lasts just one month.

The most visually impressive dish was a plate of vegetables, oven-roasted and raw, topped with micro sprouts and greens, seasoned with browned butter, dusted with seeds and petals then drizzled with an "Emmental" cheese broth.

The result was a taste sensation, with each bite delivering naturally occurring layers of flavour which changed with each bite. Given the work that goes into its construction, it's little wonder only 16 serves of it go out each night. Lots of tweezer-action here.

Next came sweet, nutty langoustine tails served on an amaranth "risotto" (not the most popular grain choice for those present), then an aromatic and pungent stew of roasted spring onions (delicious), a perfectly cooked sea bass fillet and, finally, a slab of roast Iberian pork.

Two desserts followed, the best of which was the single recipe that hasn't changed since the restaurant opened nine years ago - caramelised French toast enriched with cream and egg yolk served with ice cream of Latxa ewe's milk.

The sweet crispy-topped "toast" combined perfectly with the slightly sour handmade ice cream to give this dish Star Status among JetMoney favourites as a dessert option. Globally, it is now second only to JetMoney's number-one choice: the date tart served at Sydney's Rockpool Restaurant.

Mugaritz is probably a true three-star restaurant in all but its one area of weakness - the wine list. While clever, it lacks the depth of the other three-star restaurants in the area. While wine obviously requires a large capital outlay, a commitment to improvement here might get Muraritz over the Michelin line.

Overall, though, this place sings. It is now stamped firmly in JetMoney's top five restaurants of the world.

Tapas galore in Donostia's Old Town

DRIVING rain, whipping winds and an unseasonally wicked chill didn't deter JetMoney from continuing its tour de force of great food in the Old Town of Donostia (Basque for San Sebastian) on Saturday. 

This time, the target was terrific tapas bars, a tough assignment given that there are more than 30 such joints in the old town alone. But it's also where the best of the bunch are. The trick is finding them.

Thankfully we had insiders' tips, again from the tireless team from Mugaritz.

Mugaritz maitre d' Joserra Calvo and one of the restaurant's creative team, Javier Vergara, guided us through the mass of teaming bars we otherwise would have wandered through in an unknowing haze.

It's standard behaviour in Spain to bar hop among tapas bars: a plate of mushrooms here, jambon there, chillies and olives at another place, always washed down with a glass of the local plonk or beer.

That's basically what we did, but at three of the best, according to the locals. It used to be that just one really good tapas joint existed in San Sebastian. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your point of view) the breakdown of the marriage between the two owners saw them go their separate ways. They each opened their own bars, resulting in two truly excellent places for the town. We went to both of them.

The first, Bar Beti-Jai, specialised in fish. But it presented us with our first taste of delectable aged Iberico ham, as usual coupled with crusty bread. The smell of the meat is the test, we were told. That's the true indicator of really great ham. What you're looking for is yeasty, blue-cheese characteristics, all of which were achieved here.

Next came delectably fresh anchovies, a fish which is becoming rarer than ever. Its season lasts just a few short months, and this plate of the marinated variety was the first of it. The fresh, smooth flavour made restraint difficult. Before leaving, we downed a traditional San Sebastian favourite of green chillies wrapped in salted anchovies and speared with a green olive-topped pick.

Next stop was a mushroom specialist in Bar Asador. That's all we ate here, steaming plates of eight flavourful fungi varieties with varying characteristics of taste and texture, all of them more-ish. It was difficult to stop going back for more, but knowing we had a gastronomic challenge ahead of us that night helped - but only just.

Last stop was Bar Bernardo Etxea, (run by the former husband of the marital breakdown). This place specialises in crustaceans and has tanks full of spiny lobster, crayfish and crabs. Although ham and meats are also favoured here (the Iberico ham sausage was wonderful), the crustaceans are the real reason for going there. We particularly enjoyed a San Sebastian recipe: crab meat mixed with onion and tomato, placed back in the crab shell and topped with bread crumbs before being grilled. Also good was Hake cheek flash fried in an egg batter. The lemon pieces, we were told, are for use only when the fish is not particularly fresh and was needed to mask the fishy smell. It was clearly an unnecessary additive here.

Before retiring for a siesta, Mugaritz's Joserra Calvo steered us towards a place he deemed among the best cafes in town for a fortifying coffee. The macchiatos at the recently renovated Cafeteria Avenida XXI, situated on the main shopping drag Avenue de la Libertao, were both hot and strong, providing us with what we hoped would be a much-needed digestive aid before the big event planned for that night - dinner at Mugaritz.

Baffled about San Sebastian's latest Michelin three-star

AKELARE is San Sebastian's most recent entrant into the illustrious three-starred Michelin restaurant set, and JetMoney is puzzled as to how it came to get the top honour after dining there the other night.

It's up there alright - high on a hill above town, that is. And it's out there, too, by way of what chef Pedro Subijana presents on the plate. As one of the JetMoney team commented during our meal, "everything on the menu should be in quotes".

Admittedly, there were some delightful high notes during the night but things looked grim from the outset.

The first in a series of canapes came in a "party box" with four very different tastes and textures, none of which appealed to any of us - a dusty-tasting basil balloon, a scary black pudding roll, a bizarre fish-soup ball, and a chequer-board cracker of olive and red pepper which had the mouth-feel of paste.

Other starters included martini straws on ice (which were oddly medicinal in flavour) then liquid almonds and bread (these were good). The oysters in their "shell" didn't go down well at all. They were "like being hit in the face by a wave of sea water", commented one of our party, and "have the texture of sand", said another. We think you'd be hard pressed to eat four of them offered as an appetiser option. A mussel served topped with black bread was slightly more impressive.

Slices of melt-in-the-mouth Iberico ham came next, served draped over an inflated baguette crust which was smashed on delivery to complement the wonderfully yeasty meat. Think Vegemite overtones on the back of the palette. Yummo.

The dish of the night came next in the form of egg with caviar, cauliflower puree and chive butter. This was one of those things that looks and tastes better than it sounds, with the egg presented as a smooth, flat pancake shape of high sheen, topped with generous portions of Oesetra caviar. It was a cream and butter bomb, but the saltiness of the caviar cut through the richness of the delicious puree for perfect balance.

At this point, most of us went on to try different seafood options ranging from a visually impressive lobster salad with cider vinegar (this was good) to a fish and shellfish soup (it didn't get eaten), overcooked Hake with mussel and clams, and roasted lobster with spiced balloon (made of cheeze, incredibly). This last dish was more clever than it was great.

Of the meat dishes, including veal, pig's "trotters" and roasted milk-fed lamb, the latter alone was well received, standing out due to its succulent tenderness. It should really only be ordered, though, by those who can tolerate a high fat content.

Not one of the three desserts that hit the table was enjoyed. None was finished.

On a positive note, wine afficianados will be delighted with Akelare's wine list which was very good, peppered with lots of older vintages. It's also remarkably reasonable. We reackon we could have paid for our whole meal for four people for the price one would pay in Paris for the 1990 La Tache we enjoyed for just £680. It was a perfect bottle with beautiful fruit. Also amazing was a stunning 2004 Chassagne Montrachet "Les Ruchottes" for just £72.

Three-star glassware was also very much appreciated, with sommelier burgundy glasses produced for the La Tache.

Overall, JetMoney rates Akelare as a Michelin two-star at best. We've since eaten at another locale which we think may be more deserving of the top gong. More on that soon.

Hitting the ground running at San Sebastian

NOT a minute was wasted after JetMoney's arrival at San Sabastian yesterday. Never mind that we were at the tail end of 30 hours of travel, including the long haul from Sydney to London, an hour's drive from Heathrow to Luton, then having our jet redirected from San Sabastian to Biarritz, on the French side of the Basque region, due to poor weather.

On our arrival, Mugaritz chef Andoni Aduriz took us under his wing, having organised an informal but delightful way to get our culinary tour started. Restaurant Yalde, a 15-minute circuitous drive from the centre of town to a semi-industrial area, is close to his own Michelin two-starred restaurant at Gipuzkoa.

Aduriz hosted the lunch in Yalde's rustic rooms, explaining that although diners could choose from a menu, those in the know always ordered the same things.

He got things started with crusty white bread and a mixed plate of hams, salamis and chorizo hailing from Spain's south-west, and local sheeps' milk cheeze. Ranging from delicate to robust, the flavours worked well with an elegant, fruit-filled and spicy Bierzo "Cepas Viejas", by Dominio de Tares from Castilla y Leon, on the Atlantic Coast.

Next came generous portions of a local delicacy - cod fish "breathing bladder". Served battered and fried with onion strips, green capsicum and a fresh tomato sauce, its gelatinous texture coated the mouth and lingered long - a bit too long, perhaps, for a couple of us who were grateful for the powerful Bierzo's palate-cleansing properties.

Things picked up, though, with the next course, a unique but wonderful combination of mushrooms and "scrambled egg", the former sourced from regional hill mountains. The flat, flavoursome, tattered-edged mushrooms were pan fried in olive oil and garlic then sprinkled with finely chopped parsley. When topped with the egg mix, their slightly fatty texture was decadent and delicious.

The grand finale arrived with instructions that fingers only, please, were to be used to eat the glistening lamb cutlets and chops if the best tastes were to be enjoyed.

The steaming meat came stacked on a table-top grill under which coals of smouldering grape vines still smoked. A simple salad was the perfect accompaniment to the rich flavours of the tender and aromatic lamb, and a refreshing way to end a terrific lunch.

It's clear why Yalde is a favourite among local chefs. Its honest and produce-focused approach to food definately makes it worth a visit by foodies in the region in search of more illustrious fare.

First-class effort from Qantas

QANTAS gets the big thumbs-up from JetMoney for its new $20 million First Lounge at Sydney International Airport. There are worse places to hang out than the stand-alone Marc Newson-designed surrounds which overlook the incoming A380 docking stations across to the city skyline.

First, though, we enjoyed pre-arrival check-in which saw us met roadside by a Qantas "host" equipped with an oversized luggage trolley. Check-in ended up being a mere bag drop, after which we were whisked through customs and into the rarefied environs of the lounge.

The place is huge. Entry is via a sweeping foyer bordered by floor-to-ceiling windows on one side and a wall of plants on the other. In the lounge, the wall of glass frames the action outside. Intermittently the room is subdivided into areas of rest, recreation, business and dining.

The latter is provided by Sydney chef Neil Perry via a fully staffed ultra-modern induction-driven kitchen. Perry's produce-driven philosophy, so apparent in his Sydney and Melbourne Rockpool restaurants, is clear in the 240-seat space here, too. The food was excellent.

Some of our party were fortunate enough to snag a couple of 50-minute slots in the spa before boarding. The spa, run by French skincare company Payot, offers the blocks of time which can be used for one facial or massage, or split into two sessions for a combination of shorter treatments.

One of us, for example, chose a truly relaxing 30-minute foot massage (sleep descended) then a 20-minute eye-and-lip treatment which made a marked difference to their pre-flight appearance, apparently.

Overall, the lounge is so well equipped, those who are able to take advantage of the salubrious facilities should do so. JetMoney would even go so far as to recommend arriving well in advance of their scheduled flying times.

It looks as if the Qantas has indeed delivered the world's best first-class on-ground lounge experience.

Spain's galaxy of Michelin Stars

IT'S been a long time between gigs here, but JetMoney has planned one hell of a come-back tour.

Tomorrow, we leave Australia for Spain, on a mission to sample as many Michelin-starred restaurants (and quite a few other noteworthy establishments) as is reasonably possible during in a two-town, 11-day trip.

Before we leave, we'll test drive Qantas' new $AUD20 million first-class lounge at Sydney International Airport to determine if it indeed provides what Qantas says is the world's best first-class on-ground experience.

After take-off, our first stop will be San Sebastian, in the Basque region overlapping northern Spain and France's south-west. Apart from being spectacularly beautiful, the town is a gastronomical hot spot and has more Michelin stars per capita than any other city, even Paris. JetMoney is fortunate to have snagged reservations for two of the town's three-star affairs, two two stars and a one star.

Five days later we'll touch down in Barcelona for more of the same, where San Pau and El Bulli are on the JetMoney hit-list.

After a week there, most the party will depart - some for Sydney, others for Burgundy and then Paris from where we await word of other dining extravaganzas.

The rest of us will return to Basque country, this time across the border to France's self-titled "surfing capital of Europe" of Biarritz.

Should be fun.

Misguided food guide

(Written December 12, 2006)

MUCH has happened on the Sydney food scene since JetMoney's last post some months ago. We wanted to say a word about the last release of this city's annual Good Food Guide - the local bible for foodies.

It came out in September listing the authors' 2007 winners and losers - denoted with one to three hats for those that make it into the top echelon.

Three-Hat restaurants are supposed to be the creme de la creme of fine dining in Australia, not exactly on par with a French Three-Star effort but, locally, significantly greater than the rest. In the past, this list has been small and exclusive, and not many of those who are familiar with those restaurants in the top list would have disagreed that they deserved to be there. One or two others that perhaps should have been there, though, were obvious because of their absence.

This year, however, a slew of restaurants made the Three-Hat grade for reasons that have baffled many. And Rockpool, headed up by Australia's undisputed top chef, Neil Perry, was for the second year running, relegated to Two-Hat status despite an amazing menu turnaround and other improvements, in a decision that smacks (again) of a negative bias from food reviewers at the local rag, The Sydney Morning Herald (publisher of The Good Food Guide).

Eight restaurants ended up in the Three-Hat category this year. How some of them made it there has astounded many. JetMoney checked out a few of them in an effort to determine what had changed at those places to have given them the leg-up. We're none the wiser.

Pier Restaurant, for example, should certainly be sent back to Two Hat-dom. The seafood we ate there was fresh and delicious but the sauces (one of saffron, another a so-called red curry which seemed more like a peanut satay) overwhelmed the flavours. The wine service was second-rate - the glass of Champagne we ordered arrived as a bottle after much chasing, and we ended up being billed for two bottles of white wine at the end of our meal, one of which belonged to another table.

The other particularly noteworthy disappointment was Bilsons where JetMoney experienced a disgracefully chaotic experience across the wine service, the floor service and food.

A change of authors at The Guide may account for part of the problem and the sad demise of its usefulness in providing an accurate wrap of what Sydney has to offer. Editor Simon Thomsen seems to have regional fare and price-concious infatuations, two areas which are irrelevant for those who really want to eat well. His offsider, Catherine Keenan, is the newspaper's former books editor. That's not to say that they don't know good food when they see it, but the inconsistency of what constitutes good, bad, or otherwise through the book speaks for itself.

Unfortunately, tourists, who rely heavily on the book for guidance, should expect a few bum steers. If only the Michelin people would get down here and show the locals how it's done.

Touch down in Sydney

OK. So JetMoney actually arrived in Sydney a few nights ago, and I know I should have reported on the trip sooner. But I blame a sleepless flight from London, and sleepless nights since, for my recent inability to look at the computer screen for more than a few minutes at a time.

Before detailing the return journey, a few thoughts should be shared about a few things that rated a mention from the past week.

• The Seven Seas Voyager's French Cordon Bleu restaurant, Signatures, was good but not great. We were disappointed even with the highest-end of fine dining available on the ship. Some things were nice, but the medium-cooked lamb ordered for the main shouldn't have come out over-done. To the waiting staff's credit - and the staff was exceptional - they offered to have it replaced on seeing it, but I was happy to eat the OK parts and leave the rest, which is not what you want to feel in a so-called grand dining establishment. We'll be trying another cruise line - probably Silver Sea - for our next trip.
• St Petersburg can't be seen in a day. It's massive. You need a good six days on the ground to get a real feel for the place. We were sorry we missed the Caviar Bar in the Grand Hotel which had a good selection of well-priced Beluga (£900 for 500gms) and other types of caviar on offer.
• Know when you go to Russia, you are going to get ripped off to do pretty well anything. I don't recall another city where the hands are constantly out for payola.
• Don't miss St Petersburg's massive but overwhelmingly impressive Hermitage Museum, which now rates as JetMoney's favourite. As fans of impressionist art, we were blown away by the wonders displayed in three rooms. And while the British Museum may have the largest and most important array of Eygptian artifacts and architectural wonders, the Egyptian range on show at the Hermitage - including ornate mummy cases and a real 10,000-year-old mummy - is almost more interesting.
• Helsinki - the city at least - seemed quite dull. Perhaps Finland's finest features are out of town?
• Visby, the second last port of call for our cruise, proved to be more interesting than anticipated. Rated as one of the best surviving examples of a walled city around, the Swedish village is also home to some unique shopping across art and fashion, and is a picturesque place for a stroll. It's hard to imagine where else one could see so many decimated churches in such a small area, though.
• Cophenhagen is magnificent. No wonder Mary Donaldson (the Australian-born Crown Princess) locked on to the place. There's a life and vibrancy about the old Viking haunt - it is home, after all, to the happiest people in the world, according to one recent study - that is hard to find elsewhere. It looks good, too. Very clean. Spotless, actually, whether you're looking at extensive waterfront, cobbled streets and maze of pedestrian shopping zones. This is a city best seen on foot (do leave the heels at home, though, girls) or on bike. You'll encounter beautiful architecture, a serene series of canals and - again - terrific shopping. Hermes has one its largest European boutiques on the main shopping drag, Strøget, and many of the other usual suspects are a slow stroll away. The people watching is a real treat.
• JetMoney spent a night in the Royal Suite of the 250-year-old Hotel D'Angleterre. We should have stayed longer. Centrally located overlooking the city's historic main square, Kongens Nytorv, the hotel was stunningly redecorated about four years ago, with quite an investment going into the Royal Suite, by the looks of things. The coffee-and-cream interior is the epitome of luxury with its bunches of white flowers, classic high, ornate ceilings, plush carpets, drapes and furnishings. Just being in the space makes one, indeed, feel like royalty. If it doesn't, the spread of afternoon refreshments certainly should: buckets of champagne, harder stuff from a completely stocked bar that appears out of nowhere, enormous platters of fruit, and cigars galore. JetMoney ate lunch on the day of our arrival in the hotel's street-side restaurant and would have made a reappearance the following day had we not had to leave for Sydney.
• Just 300m from the hotel is one of Copenhagen's many Michelin-starred restaurants - the city has more of them than the rest of Scandanavia combined. Called Godt (meaning 'good', which is an understatement to say the least), it deserves a post all of its own.

Premature-birth scare in Russia

JETMONEY is always sensible about its travel insurance given the amount of moving around the world we do. Better to be safe than sorry (or broke, or both) we figure. I've had too many friends come off badly after motor biking accidents in Asia, climbing falls in Europe or evacuations from ski fields in New Zealand or the US.

Having insurance, though, is one thing. Getting the help - and the right sort of help - when you need it is quite another.

Embarking on a gentle cruise across the relatively smooth waters of the Baltic Sea entering the 31st week of pregnancy didn't sound like a dangerous gig. That was until I started having seriously strong contraction-like pains yesterday during a day's walk-about in St Petersburg.

Braxton Hicks contractions - a fake practice run for the real thing that get the body ready for birth - were not new to me. I'd had them late in my last pregnancy a couple of years ago, and had been having them, though mildly, for some months with this one. The pains I felt yesterday and during last night were akin to that experienced in the birthing suite.

It was reassuring to me that, although powerful and long-lasting, the contractions were stand-alone events. I wasn't having regular bursts of pain. So I figured this wasn't the onset of premature labour. But the prospect of potentially giving birth in Russia - we weren't due in Finland, which seemed a safer option to me, for another 24 hours - was too frightening for words.

So I rang my Sydney obstetrician on his mobile and was shocked when he answered almost immediately. That never happens. More amazing, however, was that he did so while skiing at the NSW ski resort of Thredbo.

He said I should get myself into an American hospital pronto. You'd think that'd be easy to do. Not in Russia, particularly since I didn't have a visa to get off the boat if I wsn't part of an organised tour. Even if I did manage to escape, I'd have to find some mode of transport - all dodgy at the best of time - to get me from the industrial port where we were parked and into the city, a 25-minute drive away. Cabs are practically non-existent within the customs security gate of the port which is 5km (3 miles) away, and unless you've organised a private car - something the cruise ship requires 24 hours' notice to do for you - you face a long, dusty, noisy walk to the gate or use of a shuttle bus which runs for surly-looking port workers. Not terribly enticing options for a seriously fat woman.

Anyway, I waddled off to the ship's doctor and filled him in on my medical history and what had come to pass in those days, and he didn't hesitate to refer me straight off the ship and into the arms of the American institution. I wouldn't have got past the passport control gals portside without the ship's documentation and an escort from the US medical centre, who met me and another couple of afflicted Aussies on board the ship a couple of hours after my initial consultation.

In those hours, JetMoney had had time to do some internet research on the US Medical Centre's local branch and had read a warning that the cost of its services could be "heart-stopping". I informed my fellow passengers of this as we sped through the streets of St Petersburg in an ambulance-bus thing that may once have had suspension but didn't anymore. I figured if anything was going to induce labour, this would be it.

We arrived without further incident and I was dealt with promptly and efficiently. I didn't like hearing the bit about the possibility of being grounded - no travel whatsoever by air, sea or land - if the examination turned up certain sad results. I'd be trapped in Russia and treated orally or intravenously with anti-cramping medication until someone deemed me travel-worthy, if I ever got to that stage before giving birth. Yikes!

Luckily, everything looked about as good as it should at this stage of the game, and I got out of there with strict instructions to lie down for two days, partake in no sex for at least a week and carrying a packet of some suspicious Russian tablets used as a front-line treatment to help stop premature labour.

JetMoney's Web research into the drugs has revealed they're not used much - if at all - in western medicine, and is therefore more than a bit reluctant to start popping them until I can raise my obstetrician on Thredbo's less-than-lofty slopes once more for the all clear.

I was back on board the ship for lunch after another ripper of a ride in the so-called ambo, feeling great peace of mind and only slightly less wealthy. The whole exercise had cost me less than $US300 which didn't seem like a bad deal at all.