sarong in my backpack

Almost heaven, and now back in cynic hell.

2008-01-22T23:34:00.000+08:00

After a hazardous trip back from the airport, we're finally back from the Delhi of cosmopolitan/touristy/modern goodness and stuck here in cynic hell. Updates will have to wait for I have class in ten minutes. Meanwhile, a short poem I came up with while in Delhi, on the India I cannot seem to comprehend.

You

I stand suspended
in your center
In a limbo
I linger

The unobtrusive voyeur
in your kaleidoscope
Impassive glances
upon your hazy throes

I reach out seeking
beyond the mad
for your spirit
one single thread

My fingers slipped through
your smudged translucence
And I returned untouched
A virgin maiden.

Sand, salt and shooting stars.

2008-01-13T23:31:00.001+08:00

I'm back from my overnight trip with some year two students to Dasada, a desert safari a couple of hours from campus. I went expecting something like the sand dunes I saw in Dubai, but instead we saw a lot of salt and the odd flamingo or wild ass (donkeys, not anything else your dirty minds come up with). Nevertheless, it was a good opportunity to get to know some of the students better, and to bond even more with our French counterparts.

And I saw two shooting stars! Stayed up a little longer learning French songs and laughing my head off while hoping to catch a third (for I was moments late in making my wish the first two times), but to no avail. I'll let you know if wishing on a falling star makes the wish come true.

I'll let the pictures do what pictures do. I'm off to grab some food before jumping into bed. Three hours of sleep and an entire day in a cold and dusty safari's taking its toll.

Our room,and the padded swing on the porch.

Took a shot with these handsome kids.

Fascinated as they saw themselves on Romain's digital camera.

The prettiest eyes.

Cracked salty earth.

Salt formations.

The desert landscapes.

Those black dots are actually flamingos.

The decorated jeep - kinda makes you think of the Hungry Ghost festival.

Traveling in style.

The wild asses we came to see.

Sunset.

Sunrise, this morning.

More salt.

Legs of a carcass.

Our pseudo-GAP fashion shoot, hahaha! Kash, Nuria, Marine, myself and Romain.

The boys standing atop the salt mountain.

Shaggy and the jump that hurt his back.

The Indian way of carrying stuff.

The salt exportation business.

Misplacing time.

2008-01-11T04:32:00.000+08:00

What is blatantly obvious from the lack of updates here? Classes have started, and so I've stopped playing tourist and am (still) trying to play the role of a MICA student. Which really isn't easy, considering how it is a post-grad school.

We've still yet to figure out what on earth we're doing here, and how on earth we're gonna pass the courses. Haha, but as we're working on Indian time, there really is no hurry.

My schedule's been pretty lax so far, averaging on one class per day, yet despite the lack of Singaporean frenzy here, time unknowingly slips by me. I've been meaning to blog for days, but the time I set aside to do so is usually spent out in the city, or hanging out at Chota (this tea stall on campus) with the other French students.

And this is where I'll be for the next six (hopefully only three) months.

MICA's situated in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by fields where cows often graze.

This is Romain, one of the French exchange students we hang out with. Behind the amiable facade lies a champion bargainer. In fact, I'm almost certain that he bargains as well or even better than a local.

Slices of Indian life.

There are many such stalls selling kites 'cos of Makar Sankranti that's coming up on Monday here in Ahmedabad. Half the locals I ask have no idea what the celebration's for, except that it's a day when people fly kites. Haha.

These are the men preparing the strings. I think the rub it with glass powder, as they did last time in Singapore, if I remember my auntie correctly.

A camel I saw on my way to Law Garden on Sunday.

Law Market's a bazaar selling traditional Indian wear, like these. I bought the dark blue one.

And this is the lady who sold me the top.

Shopping in Ahmedabad is a hazardous affair of dodging traffic (no such thing as pavements here) and crowds. Amit, Erwin and I headed here for sustenance after a tiring Sunday evening at Law Garden.

Chocolate decadence pancakes. It was good. In fact, Erwin and I just went to The Chocolate Room again earlier today. Yum. Maybe they'll make us VIPS.

As part of our Imagining India course, we took a field trip out to one of the mosques.

The boy in blue was fascinated by my Nikon, and requested that I take a picture.

Then he got his family in...

And this girl wanted in on the action.

More of them.

The boys caught up with me and asked that I take more pictures of them.

The fantastic sunset skies.

There's a gorgeous lake that the site overlooks.

Inside the mosque.

There are plenty more, but they're gonna have to wait. :)

Snapshots of time.

2008-01-03T21:08:00.000+08:00

While Kash got jiggy doing van-karaoke with Sumit and Amit,

Erwin, Nuria and I caught some shut-eye on the ride out for our New Year's sightseeing trip.

We stopped first at Lothal, where the 4000-year old remains of the ancient Harappan civilisation are preserved.

The place used to be a trading port, but the seas have receded and what remains is a lake-like pool of blue waters. That's Amit and Sumit standing on what used to be a dam.

And here's a shot of the four of us.

Kash was a bit too enthusiastic in scouting for a good shot, and got her foot stuck in Indian quick sand. While the rest of us looked on in amused shock, a good Samaritan gave her a helping hand.

I thought this picture Erwin took of me encapsulated what I've been feeling this past week in India - free, contented and incredibly happy.

This shot is dedicated to the one who introduced me to the beauty of the underside of foliage. It was a sweltering day at the Botanical Gardens and I remember looking on as you took shot after shot while standing under a giant tree of orange leaves. I've gone halfway around the world and yet you still visit me in sleep.

Erwin's aspiring war photojournalist shot. Haha.

The Indian sky's a cloudless, brilliant blue.

India really wouldn't be the India we've heard so much of without a few pictures of cows no?

If you didn't already guess, cows are everywhere, and as much a part of traffic as cars.

See what I mean?

Our next stop was the Nalsarovar Bird Sanctuary.

This was the boat we took out to the lake for bird-watching.

Scenic serenity.

But being the photography buffs we were, we were more interested in snapping pictures of the gorgeous sunsets than sitting back and watching birds swoop.

Vegetarianism is driving Erwin nuts. Here, he attempts to eat the sun. Probably imagining it as an egg...

Silhouettes of the boatman.

Along with the fading glow of the setting sun, our camera batteries died on us and successfully curbed all urges to whip out our cameras with every picturesque shot. As we drifted on the silent lake for the last ten minutes, I finally stopped looking at the surroundings through the lens. Instead of fighting against time to immortalize the beauty on film, I saw beauty without the need to possess it.

Birds swooping in flocks against the rosy sunset sky, the gentle ripples of the water, and the chill of the approaching night.

I finally understood.

Having a thousand beautiful snapshots are nothing in comparison to a moment's quiet appreciation, and of truly being. I may not have the pictures that captured the last moments of the ebbing sunlight, but I doubt that I would ever forget how it felt like to sit on the lake thinking that there was no place I would rather be.

Transcience. It's beautiful.

New year, new country.

2008-01-02T13:13:00.000+08:00

I'd actually intended to write an entry dated 1 Jan, but Kash and I were ambushed at the gym earlier today (haha, no curry belly thank goodness!) and having spent the day out sightseeing, the first day of 2008 is officially over. Nevertheless, it's always better late than never, so here's the lowdown on how we ushered in the new year in Ahmedabad.

Mucking around with my shawl outside our old dilpidated hostel, so Erwin could get a good shot of it in the sunlight.

Amit and Sumit first took us out to this residential site where Egyptian, Chinese and Roman sculptures were built, for theme ambience, I assume.

First, the Buddha in China...

Then the pharoahs..

and the pyramids of Egypt.

Carvings inside a pyramid.

Village women rushing home to their families.

And that's me running after them for a shot, haha! This picture is hilarious.

Sunset silhouette.

A shot with Amit.

See how close I am to the dog?

MICA's Roxy has cured me of my dog-phobia!

Reflected sunset in the window.

Erwin's constrained smile.

Last up was the Roman district.

And a final sunset shot before we headed out of the village peace and into the crazy Indian traffic.

The streets of India.

A chaotic riot of colors.

The ethnic Gujarati village we went to for our last dinner of 2007.

Where buffets are served on leaf plates by servers.

All vegetarian.

Nuria likes the unflavored lassi. She's the only one who does. Haha.

Kash has adventurous tastebuds and weird concoction tastes.

Not my cup of tea.

Joining in the dancing after dinner.

My constipated/embarrassed face.

Sumit getting his groove on.

The performer/story-teller

Left these people enraptured.

After a scoop of buffalo milk ice cream, we headed back and reached MICA 10 minutes before midnight. Ushering in 2008 was done at Chota - the 24-hour chai tea place on campus. Simple, cozy, and nice. And our first hours of 2008 were spent moving from the old, dilapidated hostel to our current comfortable quarters.

New year, new country, new accomodation. Happy 2008 everybody. :)

The art of doing nothing.

2007-12-31T13:12:00.000+08:00

I can't remember when was the last time I sat around an entire day without checking my watch, but instead looked towards the sky and sunlight for an indication of time.

When I spend the longest periods sitting around in chilly winds and playing silly games, and when laughter accompanies my every meal.

When I gain the deepest contentment from stroking a cat, and a warm shower taken with a bucket and a pail.

India has stripped me down to almost the basics, and while the absence of urban luxuries took a bit of getting used to, I am now enjoying the art of doing nothing at all.

Jump first, think later.

2007-12-30T13:09:00.000+08:00

It's only been two days, but it feels like we've been here in MICA for quite awhile, though not in a bad way. The campus is relatively empty as school doesn't start till later next week, but the people we've met have been very friendly and helpful.

We were invited to the wedding of the director's daughter last night, and while we felt pretty much like unwelcome visitors initially, we felt right at home once the faculty started coming up to us, and when Amit and Sumit came by.

The super-stamina musicians.

With all the colors and chattering of an Indian wedding.

The walkway to the wedding wonderland.

Color is obviously huge here. The more, the merrier.

A group shot of (l-r) Amit, myself, Sumit, Kash, Erwin and Nuria.

Heading out for hot masala tea in the chilly night.

Check out my amount of layers!

We bumped into Sumit and Amit at Chotta, the 24-hour cafe on campus, and we had crazy talk over hot masala tea in the chilly night.

Taking an auto (or what is pretty much like Bangkok's tuk-tuks) back to campus after a day shopping in Ahmedabad city.

Spot Erwin and I.

Found us?

We're getting along just fine. No desire to murder each other yet, haha.

Camel crossing.

The driver.

Gamely posing for us.

That's Sumit, watching the setting sun.

Driving (recklessly) off into the sunset.

MICA sunset.

While waiting for Nuria and Amit to join us back at the campus, Sumit read our palms. According to him, I think a lot (can't argue that), will marry a husband who is better looking than me, have one marriage and one child, to whom I'd be an over-protective mother. Hmm. And yes, he said that I'd have heart complications later in life. Sheesh. Maybe I should drink more red wine.

On a different note, the director's dog Roxy roams the campus freely, which ain't good news for me, especially as it's a full-grown German Sheperd. However, I managed to get around the fear to sit with Amit in the chilly evening with the dog between us as we contemplated religion and yoga. Not bad an improvement huh?

From the land of incredibles.

2007-12-28T13:07:00.000+08:00

So after a very pampering Business Class (free upgrade hah!) flight, and a frustratingly long time at the baggage counters, we stepped out into Ahmedabad, where very very nice MICA students came by to pick us up from the airport. Here's their way of baggage storage - atop the vehicle.

A group shot outside the hostel with a friend of the MICA students. Amit's his name, I think? I would think he's what a typical Indian heart throb would look like.

Due to some wedding going on, we would have to make do in this jail-cell style room for the next couple of days. Dirty beds, dirtier toilets and funny insects... I am so gonna kiss the bed at the international hostel. And the heater. This is what I see while on my painfully unclean bed. Talk about waking up to an inspiring view...

After waking up countless times in the increasingly cold night, we awoke finally to brilliant sunshine, thank goodness.

What I assume is a typical day's lunch in the MICA canteen, except for the small portion which is my own doing. The food's surprisingly nice, quite like what I like.

And just for a rustic beauty snapshot to chase away the ills...

We're invited to the director's daughter's wedding... so off I go to formalise whatever clothes I have.. and to jump into yet another shower.

P.s. For the promised update on Indian men - some are looking pretty good! Stubbly. HAHA.

Saigon, the city of motorcycles.

2007-06-08T02:40:00.000+08:00

Day 1

After Phuket last year, I knew better than to have high hopes for this trip. Moreover, Vietnam - Ho Chi Minh City in particular, hadn't exactly been a place I'd been dying to visit. And it was precisely this "take it as it is" attitude that I think got me through the trip. No expectations, no disappointment.

The many foodies in the family ensured that we stopped for an authentic Vietnamese lunch before checking in.

Pho, pronounced as "fur" with a slight lilt at the end, is found almost everywhere in Ho Chi Minh City. While we have fast food chains like MacDonald's, Burger King and KFC peppered all over Singapore; the Vietnamese have Pho chains.

How to eat pho:
1. Season soup with extra condiments if you please
2. Add cut chillies for an extra kick (and boy, do these chillies kick)
3. Add veggies, basil and mint leaves at your discretion

Lunch was digested with a quick city tour. First up was the Post Office, a pretty impressive building with interiors that reminded me of English train stations. Just across the road was the Notre Dame Cathedral. Our guide, Van, mentioned that the guy who built/designed the Eiffel Tower designed either one of these buildings. Can't quite remember though, and I don't seem to be able to find any information online either.

A church built to look like a temple. Talk about religious harmony.

We had time to squeeze in a "not shiok" massage and a quite jaunt about our district before dinner.

Check out this sign we saw whilst walking around our hotel. How realistic.

Ho Chi Minh City ain't called the City of Motorcycles for nothing. Zebra crossings and traffic lights are but forgotten ornaments on a Christmas tree.

Dinner was at a cafe serving Vietnamese street food (imagine Lau Pat Sat as a cafe) for the guide thought our stomachs wouldn't be suited for the real McCoy.

Day 2

We took a trip out to visit the Cu Chi Tunnels. Armed with just simple spades, the Viet Congs dug through the hard hard soil to create these tunnels which are over 200km long. The tunnels housed a hospital, bunks and even a kitchen. We got to try crawling through one of the 40m tunnels, already enlarged for tourists, and oh boy, I can't imagine having to go through 200km!

The Viet Congs also set up plenty of traps, like this one:

And here's an illustration of how the trap actually works.

Bomb shells.

Vietnamese Viagra anyone?

I'm neither a history nor military buff, but this trip out sure was an eye-opener. I am really quite impressed by the Viet Congs, and their sheer ingenuity. While the US soldiers brought their dogs out to sniff the Viet Congs out, the latter preempted and avoided capture by wearing the uniforms of the US Army to throw the dogs off track. And the tunnels? Digging and crawling through them - no easy job I can assure you.

The solemn morning was soon put aside when we made a trip to the Ben Thanh Market for a spot of retail therapy. I didn't get any pictures, but it is like the cleaner, less chaotic and less eventful sibling of Chatuchak Weekend Market in Bangkok.

Dinner was at a tourist trap restaurant, where waiters threw and caught claypot rice. I couldn't get a clear shot for I didn't want to risk blinding the waiter (and the people around him) with my flash, but look really closely and you may just see him in action.

Worth a mention however is the massage parlour just across our hotel. An hour of bliss that really worked out the knots in our shoulders and the aches in our feet. It was also, we soon came to realise, one of the few parlours that did not offer "extra services".

Day 3

I gave the war museum a miss and set off for Ben Thanh Market again instead. There was only so much of group travel I could take. I emerged a few hours later a lot poorer, with plenty of Lonely Planet travel guidebooks and a suitcase to boot.

Walked around the district (again, I know). This time, I gave my wallet a rest and set about working my camera instead.

Streets of Vietnam. Kinda pretty huh?

The Opera House. Seeing it makes me think of Lea Salonga and Miss Saigon.

Dinner at the seafood place was pretty cool. Not that I thought it justified the return visit on our last day.

Day 4

I thought I'd never make it to my free and easy day! There aren't many shops worth visiting around the hotel, so I set about taking in the sights instead.

Breakfast at Dongdo Hotel. Looks pathetic I know, but the baguette's pretty amazing.

A coffee shop. Not a kopitiam, but a shop selling coffee.

3 June 2007
17:18 hrs
Black Cat Cafe

"A stolen moment at last.

Here I am in Black Cat, a cafe just around the corner from the hotel. I'm neither thirsty nor peckish, but I'm nursing a Vietnamese iced coffee and a slice of cake, to better relish the temporary freedom.

I'm not entirely sure I'm in a cafe or bar, but I'm the only patron right now. The decor's pretty different, and they are alternating techno with French pop on the speakers.

Ho Chi Minh City... better known as Saigon. I'm coincidentaly in the middle of the chapter on Saigon in Anthony Bourdain's A Cook's Tour. This city definitely isn't as commercialised as Bangkok or even Bali; perhaps because tourism doesn't quite seem that big here. It's my fourth day in the city, and I feel like I'm ready to say goodbye.

I wouldn't say the place is ugly, for the buildings do have a certain French flair, and even the dilapidated ones seem to have aged with class. Like French women, haha. Neither would I say the city lacks history or culture, for there are quite a few museums and the whole Vietnam war story.

Yet, I don't feel compelled to explore or get to know the city. I don't look up at the sky at sunset to have my breath stolen away. I don't have the urge to whip my camera out every other minute to immortalize a moment on film. There's art, dining, architecture.

And yet, I feel like I'm just passing by."

Shortly after I wrote the entry, Manh the waiter stopped by for a chat. Vietnamese in general aren't quite as proficient in English as compared to the locals in tourist influx-ed places like Thailand and Bali. But while the conversation was shaky, I had a pretty good gist of his life story.

He grew up in one of the provinces in the Mekong Delta, and came to Ho Chi Minh City 8 years ago to make a living, despite his preference for the rural. Farming in the countryside just couldn't make ends meet. And here he is, 8 years later, juggling two jobs and working 16 hour days, 6 days a week. He spoke to me of his ambition, of how he wanted to work in a "big hotel" for he felt that employees were managed more professionally, and how he wanted to be able to save up enough money to buy a plot of land somewhere in the highlands. Grow some coffee and tea.

The conversation made me feel extremely fortunate to have my seemingly mundane life, yet it made my spirit feel so small. At my lowest points, when it felt like no one could have had it any worse than me, I was wrong. Somewhere out there, people are struggling physically to make ends meet while I had it all laid out in front of me.

It's been a trying 10 months. Laughs have been hard to come by, smiles were sometimes forced, and the aches sometimes threatened to overwhelm. Yet, it has been an enriching 10 months as well. Travelling so much has really opened my eyes and my mind, and I think I have grown to be a person I prefer over the previous me.

Apart from knowing the world around me better, I've also got to know myself a bit better. Somewhere along the way, I was enlightened; moments of wisdom that seeped into my subconscious. Life is all about perspective, and perspective belongs to me.

I've also learnt, somehow, that the best way of dealing with pain is to accept it instead of running away from it. I've learnt to appreciate not just the beauty in happiness, but also that in anger, pain, fear and disappointment. Each moment in life cannot be relived, and I have learnt to appreciate the moment, be it a good or a bad one. And the world seems so much lighter.

A quick shot with the cousins (Glenda, Bradley and Petria) before heading out to dinner, which along with the day's lunch, ain't quite worth the mention. The meals weren't bad, but I would have gladly exchanged that for a crappy French meal. At least I would have had French food in Vietnam!

Day 5

It was time to leave Dongdo Hotel behind and head out to the Mekong. This is honestly the part I've been looking forward too. Boating on the Mekong - a traveller's dream.

The gang at the lobby, celebrating Aunty Pat's birthday.

On the road. She looks pretty cute in my sunnies eh?

I like this series of shots.

A sleeping Glenda, snapped by Bradley. As much as she gets to me sometimes with her kiddy nonsense, the feeling of having her lay to sleep on my lap is indescribably heartwarming. And when she asked to sleep on my lap on the return journey from the Mekong tour, I melted.

Construction that is, according to Van, advised by our very own MM Lee.

The Mekong route.

My first glimpse of the Mekong.

Our first river stop was a fruit plantation where we had the sweetest tropical platter. It was here that I fell in love with pineapples.

Post-fruits Vietnamese folk songs.

I like him.

This isn't the Mekong tour. We're actually the new cast of Survivor Vietnam.

And so we saw exotic fruits and watched how coconunt candy was made.

We then hopped on a horse cart to the bee farm. The latter wasn't fantastic, but the ride was awesome. All we had to do was pray that the horse not fart into our faces.

Post bee farm - rowing boats to take us back to our boat.

Yep, a leaking boat in a river of crocs.

My Mekong hero.

Told you it's Survivor. Picture courtesy of Auntie Sab.

How to eat an Elephant Ear Fish

1. Deep fry it till crisp
2. Cut it up and place in a rice paper roll, atop veggies, mint and what nots
3. Roll it up and bite.

Quite the looker huh this young boy?

The unrelentless Mekong sun.

Fishing houses on the river.

Bradley, my Vietnam life support.

A couple of shots I took from the coach of the passing scenery. Tinkered with sepia tones for the second, and I really do like the reflection of the trees in the third.

Don't believe it when people tell you how Bangkok traffic is bad. Vietnam brings traffic chaos to a whole new level - it's bloody suicide.

We had to get off the coach and walk to the ferry to Cantho because of the jam. Not bad a way to take in Vietnamese life eh?

A ferry not just for people, but for trucks, lorries, vans and motorcycles too.

Finally, a decent sunset.

Aboard the thrill motor, whizzing through Vietnam traffic to our hotel.

And I thought these mating dogs were conjoined twins.

We ended our last night in Vietnam with a super crappy massage in the hotel. It was sleazy, unprofessional, and I felt like badly marinated chicken chop. Bradley even had an offer for a massage for his "baby".

Capped the night off with complimentary cocktails at the hotel bar with Bradley. I don't know about him but I got a little tipsy! I've always lamented that I don't have a cousin my age, but it seems like we hit it off pretty well. Well enough to chat way into the morning. Bad news for our 5.30 a.m. wake-up call!

Day 6

5 a.m. and the cars and motorcycles are horning. 6 a.m. and the sun's all bright and cheery. A gorgeous sight that even a bleary-eyed me couldn't deny.

The bustle of activity on the Mekong at sunrise. We were up this early to catch the floating market.

One of my favourite shots.

The floating market on the Mekong Delta. This picture makes me think of Sing to the Dawn, the book by Minfong Ho. It's set in Thailand though, but there's this whole rustic charm about it.

Balancing act.

Traffic was on my side, and we had about an hour to hit Saigon Square and its fabulous shopping I missed when I took off to Black Cat Cafe on my own. $5 Mango tops and $14 Mango bottoms. I was in retail heaven. A shopaholic's idea of a good sendoff.

It has been quite the ride I don't think I'd want to relive for awhile.

The uncoventional beauty.

2007-05-05T23:41:00.000+08:00

Day 1

I jetted off to Langkawi with every intention of living it up a little, unlike the past few penny-pinching trips I've gone on. I'd seriously impaired my bank account, thinking I had paid for: a breathtaking view of the sea and an infinite horizon; powder soft sand; days of endless sunshine; ink black nights sprinkled liberally with countless stars; a "I'm so classy; bite me" resort; a loungey live band...

Needless to say, I was less than impressed with what greeted us. A beach with imported sand that leads out to seasonal jelly-fish infested waters; a kid-infested hotel pool; a horizon obscured by bridges and what-nots; ominous rain clouds above us; and a 'live' band that pre-recorded its accompanying music.

I barely had time to recultivate my pre-arrival anticipation before we had to head off for our island hopping tour.

Snapped this during a quick stop at Cenang Beach to pick up our fellow hoppers. I couldn't help but envy the man in the chair, for I was still sore about my artificial stretch of sand.

This is Pulau Dayang Bunting, otherwise known as the Isle of the Pregnant Maiden - see the silhouette of a pregnant lady lying on her back in the fourth shot? It is believed that the waters of a large lake grant barren women fertility. I don't know about that, but stripping down for a dip in the cool waters sure was refreshing after the trek up.

While dark clouds pretty much shrouded the island, sun rays shone optimistically in the distance. Magic, is the only word I have to describe the sight. It makes me wonder if the Ireland I read about so often in Nora Roberts' novels are like that. Langkawi, with its multitude of lush moutains, can probably be its Asian equivalent.

"On the road to nowhere". I really like this black and white shot of the broken jetty.

Went by to watch the eagles feed after our dip in the lake.

After which we headed for Pulau Beras Basah, the Island of Wet Rice. No rice paddies spotted here, but it was rather charming in a Robinson Crusoe kind of way. There was nothing much to do 'cept to lay on the sand, honestly.

After a trip back to the resort for a shower and to get out of our sea soaked clothes, we hopped on a cab down to the gypsy night market (they move around the island daily) at Kuah Town. We were f-a-m-i-sh-e-d. We'd entirely forgotten about lunch.

Not much different from the pasar malams we have back here.

They've got chatty waiters cum teh tarik men, ever ready to show a trick or two for the camera, though.

I wasn't too enthusiastic about the ayam goreng and the Ramly burger, but the ban jian kueh (peanut pancake) sure made my day. Nobody prepares them the way the Malaysians do.

Swung by our resort's beach bar after dinner, hoping to cap our first day on the island with some loungey live music. The band turned out to be a Filipino duo who fancied 80's and bubblegum pop, and the bar was empty lest for a table of enthusiastic dancing Caucasians. We soon made friends with Tonggo, the friendly waiter who then dedicated a song to us. Can't remember the title though!

We befriended the band, D'Cresendos, as well. That's Tonggo, Ceci, Flora, myself, and Russell. We got up and sang with them for a bit. Pretty much butchered the songs, but it was all good fun.

I thought we handled our disappointment pretty well, and made the best out of it. It turned out to be quite a good night after all!

29 April 2007
00:41 hrs
Langkawi Lagoon Resort room

"So, Langkawi didn't turn out like I had imagined. I wasn't expecting clear blue waters, but I was expecting a 5-star resort and a view out to the infinite horizon. The actual Langkawi did rain on my parade a little, but once again, the locals here made it all okay.

I didn't get my 5-star pampering, but I got to instead banter with locals at the night market and jam with the D'Cresendos at beach bar. It would have been so easy to hang onto my reservations and refuse the invitation onstage, but the thought of it being a once in a lifetime chance had me tossing my inhibitions to the wind. Afterall, what's a holiday without a couple of cringe-worthy memories?

While a tiny stubborn piece of me still wishes we were shacked up at a Banyan Tree-like resort that oozes posh, I am glad we ended up where we did.

A posh resort may be all pretty with impeccable service, and its live band will probably be a classy act miles away from stuck-in-the-80s D'Cresendos, but I don't think I'll ever get a high like I just did butchering songs on stage.

Pleasant memories versus travel tales to tell my grandchildren. I'll take the latter any day."

Day 2

Our morning plan to hit the pool and laze by the beach was shelled the moment the initial sunny skies gave way to rain. While the weather quite literally rained on our parade, it was quite nice, in an un-beachy way, to watch the rain fall from inside the restaurant where we enjoyed a lazy breakfast. Thank goodness we had already set aside the day for shopping in town and not for a trip out at sea.

The rest of the day was typically female - spent a good 5.5 hours at a two-storey shopping mall, whose shops can barely rival Far East Plaza. We walked into Factory Outlet Store and emerged a good 1.5 hours almost a 100 Singapore bucks poorer, but 10 tees richer.

Nursed our aching limbs at Arts Cafe at Langkawi Fair, a cafe not unlike the one inside Eclectic Attic at Plaza Singapure. This light lemon cheesecake was quite a gem. It was late evening by the time we got back to the resort, and we were seriously too pooped to go anywhere else. What better way to recuperate than to plop our exhausted bodies onto beach chairs with a novel each to watch the sun set?

Day 3

Awoke at 6:00 a.m. the next morning to prepare for our snorkelling trip out at sea. The sky was dark when I awoke, and we finally managed to see the stars which weren't visible in the night! How odd.

(l-r) The Sea Village rooms we couldn't afford, an old-school travel agency that reminded me of the shophouses that house surname clans back here, the jetty at Pulau Payar Marine Park, Ceci and I resting from snorkelling part one.

I wasn't that keen on snorkelling initially - my virgin experience in Bintan's murky waters didn't leave too good an impression. However, my travel buddy has a thing for fishes, and I'd be mad to not want a day out at sea.

Swimming with baby sharks; holding a wriggling, water-squirting sea cucumber in my hands (most disgusting thing ever - feels like an obscenely overweight worm); feeling wary then increasingly fascinated by the sea urchins; cupping Nemo in my palms; swimming past boundaries with Adi in search of barracudas and sea turtles; feeling fishes nibble at me; and that inexplicable freedom of being in the waters.

I am so glad we went, for this trip changed my mind entirely about snorkelling. The thought of being in the sea, vulnerable to its marine life, has honestly always scared me a little. I had never quite understood the allure of the ocean divers talk about, but now I finally do. I can't wait for my next snorkelling trip.

How often do you manage to capture happiness on film? Most happy moments either go by uncaptured, or are captured as posed shots on happy occasions (think people gathering around the birthday boy/girl for a snap).

Ceci went ashore earlier as she was feeling slightly ill from the bobbing (the waters were pretty choppy), and snapped this pic of Adi and I coming up from the sea (3rd picture from left). I think we were walking pretty quickly, but despite the shot being off-centre, I can feel my happiness and exhilaration each time I look at the picture. I was on such a high!

Sat on the open deck on the ferry trip back. Met with a storm along the way, and while rain and unrelentless wind left our sea-drenched bodies freezing, the smoky mountains provided the perfect accompaniment for my marine-reminiscing.

Snapped a few shots of the sunset whilst waiting for Adi at the lobby. I'd always thought that the most beautiful sunsets were fiery with rosy golden hues. The one we saw this evening was in varying shades of gold-tinged blue, and we couldn't even see the sun, but it took my breath away unlike any other sunset.

The beauty did not lay in the setting sun, but instead the ever-changing clouds, which seemed to radiate an entrancing light from the unseeable sun.

Never thought I'd see the beauty in unicolor.

We took Adi up on his offer to take us out for seafood, but 30 minutes before we were to meet him, the post-snorkelling high wore off and logic led to me suggesting that we get the number for the police. It wasn't necessary though, for Adi, and his friend (also named Adi) turned out to be perfect gentlemen.

Would have loved to go to the Reggae Bar at Pantai Cenang the locals were raving about, but we'd a date with Tonggo and D'Cresendos at Laguna Bistro.

Laguna Bistro - the bar where our happy memories originated.

A final shot with Russell and Flora. It turned out to be D'Cresendos' last night at the bar as well, for their contract had expired, and the duo were to head down to Penang. Emails were exchanged along with handshakes and friendly pats on the back; Ceci and I may just pay Flora a visit on Boracay next year!

1 May 2007
1:25 hrs
Langkawi Lagoon Resort room

"I wish I were a beach girl.

Not the beach-going bunny I look like, but a bona fide beach girl. One who was born by the waters and spent her childhood diving and petting sharks. One whose daily life revolves around swimming in the sea and meeting the seasonal island tourists.

Langkawi is so laidback, I cannot imagine not being bored after a month. Yet, this seemingly mundane routine is life for the islanders, and life seems good to them. Meeting the same people; doing the same things.

Bali still holds the top spot on my list of places I wish to stay longer, but Langkawi definitely has its own unique charm."

Day 4

Three whole days flew by in a blur of activities, and the time soon came for us to bid the island I'd fallen in love with goodbye.

Langkawi is like the unlikely lover who I unknowingly gave a piece of my heart too. Like the dishevelled man at the corner you walk by everyday, barely noticing his presence, until the day you realise that he is no longer there. And that routine morning walk starts to feel a little empty, and it hits you that you had noticed and even possibly taken comfort in his presence afterall.

Langkawi, with its stuck-in-the-80s vibe; messy landscapes of cows, rusty van frames and flooded paddy fields; mystical mountains in the background, and ever-friendly island locals.
Langkawi, who took my breath away with its unfiery sunset, and who introduced me to the wonders of the marine world.
Langkawi, where I met the most amazing people, like Tonggo, Flora, Russell, Adi, and Adi.
Langkawi, where I visited 15 years ago, and I will before another 15 years go by.

An unadventurous Bangkok adventure.

2006-12-30T01:44:00.000+08:00

When I returned from my virgin Bangkok trip earlier in March this year, I firmly decided that I would not be visiting the city for at least two years. I was unimpressed. Funny how I made another trip in barely nine months, and here I am back home, equally unimpressed.

Day 1

23 Dec. 2006
19:19 hrs
Flight to Bangkok

"The ever-changing sunset
I'm afraid to blink
God's palette of fiery hues
Too beautiful a sin.

Infinite horizons
Darken in rosy light
Laws of the universe bend
As day and night collide."

Sunsets never fail to mesmerise, but watching one while thousands of feet above ground is breath-taking. The crescent moon and a single star shared the canvas with this rich-hued sunset, and the overlap of day and night truly awed.

Day 2

Ceci demonstrates the way of trying on clothes in Chatuchak Market. You slip on a sarong skirt, wiggle around like a klutz, then make your decision. To buy, or not to buy. Subsequent jaunts around the city proved that we looked Thai! Until we open our mouths to speak that is, haha. I had abit of a kick nodding and pretending to understand what they were talking about. Cheap thrill, I know.
We took a quick breather from all that shopping with a plate of tasty chicken hip, and a plate of weird fishy papaya salad for lunch.

Christmas at PJ Watergate Hotel was a quiet, almost silent affair. We treated ourselves to Swensens ice-cream and a foot massage to soothe our overworked muscles. Counting down to the 25th was in the outdoor cafe of our hotel, huddled in our shawls and sipping hot drinks. Bangkok was oddly chilly at night.

Day 3

What better way to celebrate Christmas Day than to spend it shopping? Our first stop was to Khao San, an area overpopulated by foreigners and underpopulated by locals. Caucasian tourists were the majority, and I'd forgotten that it was Christmas until I heard them wishing one another "Merry Christmas". It was in one of the dusty bookstalls that I got a second-hand South-east Asia on a Shoestring Lonely Planet guide at approximately 30 Singapore dollars. So it isn't brand new, but I kinda liked the idea of using one that has been to places.

I finally had my pad ka prow, a minced meat stir-fry with basil and chillies, and Ceci had her first taste of pad thai for lunch. It was at the streetside cafe that we met Mr. Nice Lashes Joe, the Irish lad who had missed his flight home. He had had a bit too much to drink the night before and was looking painfully uncomfortable sitting in the sun. But hey, sunlight might be an age-old Irish cure for hangovers.

And then there was Hack, the hippie vendor from whom Ceci and I bought each other a leather bracelet for Christmas, and who was really insistent on getting my number and email. Maybe he could sense my hippie vibes. Haha. I've always had a soft spot for scruffy hippies, but he was a tad TOO scruffy and hippie.

Khao San turned out to be less of a shopaholic haven than we had expected, so we spent the remaining afternoon on yet another sidewalk cafe drinking iced tea and munching on a Dunkin' Donut. If you're wondering which my favourite donut is, it is the Bavarian. Has been, probably always will be.

We then hopped on a cab to Suan Lum Night Bazaar, and the cab driver was extremely amused that we fancied Thai music. Dinner was a cosy affair of us in our pjs and take-away from the night market. Yum. We were so ravenous, we forgot to take a snap of the food.

Day 4

Aware that it was Boxing Day, I awoke feeling a little melancholic remembering the 2004 tsunami, but all was fine the moment we stepped out into the sunshine and hit Pratunam wholesale market.

Lunch was at A&W where we discussed the plausible reasons why the fast-food chain was so unsucessful in Singapore. The last two snaps are a pictorial demonstration of how to eat a burger my way:

1. Remove the tomatoes
2. Squirt on some chilli sauce
3. Squirt on some ketchup

Easy peasy!

While it was extremely tempting to rest our aching feet and spend the night having room service in the hotel, we hauled our asses into a cab and down to Saxophone pub. It was quite a challenge trying to find the place, but we did. There was a live band playing the blues, and we had some temporary fun perving on the drummer.

A few more closer looks and we spotted a beer belly, and his, well, aged face. Haha.

The chow at the pub was surprisingly good and reasonable. We had, pad ka prow (I know, again!); tom yum soup and a veggie stir-fry for a total of 14 Singapore dollars. Utterly delicious. All pubs should serve grub this good.

Getting back to the hotel was quite a bitch for the first cab we hopped on missed the turning into our hotel and brought us on a huge merry-go-round. He was getting increasingly grumpy, and we decided to alight and end all our misery. We roamed the streets of Bangkok for a bit, looking for familiar landmarks, before hopping on to another cab which thankfully, we managed to direct back to our hotel.

The night out at the pub inspired a little something about the primal nature of the mating ritual.

27 Dec. 2006
00:16 hrs
Hotel room

"Stolen glances
at a pleasing face
Lives entwince
over a lingering gaze

A secret moment
when the eyes meet
Dance a silent tango
to a primal beat"

Day 5

We spent a few short hours at the unimpressive MBK shopping mall before heading back to Pratunam for our final shopping fix.

Ceci headed back to the hotel for an early start on her packing, while I zipped off nearby for another massage. Considering that it was our final night in Bangkok, we decided that it was time to give street food a try, and we had some really awesome pad thai and fried rice. I bought two sticks of what I thought was grilled pork on my way back to the hotel, but it was really chewy, and we both gave up after a bite when Ceci pointed out that it could be pig ears. Right.

Day 6

I awoke feeling disoriented, and for a splitting second, I thought I was back at home! A final breakfast at the hotel, and we set off for a final jaunt around Pratunam. We were hoping to get a final taste of pad thai for lunch, but we ended up at one of the upmarket bar/cafes within the airport. Enroute to our gate for boarding, we passed by another cafe serving, you guessed it, pad thai. I was peeved. Haha.

And finally, home sweet home.

I concluded that I was more of the resort-type when I returned from Bangkok earlier in March, and I am going to conclude the same. That said, each trip is a trip worth remembering.

Many, both Thais and friends, expressed surprise that Ceci and I visited Bangkok with only each other for company. Perhaps it was abit gung-ho, but I'm glad we did it. Nothing makes you grow more than surviving alone in a foreign land. It is a crash course in responsibility, independence, safety and a whole lot of other lessons they don't teach us in school.

Two trips and four flights in two weeks has left me a little exhausted. It'll be awhile before I jet off on yet another get-away, but I can almost be sure that it will involve nature, and perhaps the sun and sea.

Four days in sunny Bali.

2006-12-18T19:14:00.000+08:00

It's gonna be a long entry, peppered with a gazillion snapshots. I've decided to incorporate a couple of excerpts from my handy leather travel journal as well. So, sit tight.

12 December, 17:15 hrs
On the flight to Bali

"If clothes maketh the man, then do the passengers on the plane define the destination?

I'm not exactly Miss Jetsetter, and my travels have mostly been confined to within Asia. That said, the fellow passengers on my past flights haven't been as distinctive as those who are travelling with me to Bali.

There's a certain holistic aura about them. Drawstring pants; flowers in their hair... we all look set for our resort paradise. Holistic hippies. I'm loving this flight."

Febri's Hotel at Kuta was only a five minute ride from the airport. Our hotel, though smallish, was brilliant with its hospitality. I liked coming back to flowers on my bed, and the smiling staff. I could imagine snuggling up on the window-side couch with my novel, but it never did happen. Neither did our plans to have a room service breakfast on the balcony.

We set off for a quick jaunt around the Kuta area. Verdict? Extremely touristy. We purchased a tour package to Ubud and Tanah Lot for the next day from the very jovial Andy and Monkey. Ken was bizarrely happy to see Sogo, and our first Balinese dinner of ayam panggang (grilled chicken) and club sandwich (Ken's a careful eater) at a streetside cafe was pretty disappointing.

13 December

So I don't exactly wake up to a spectacular view of the sea, but this is Kuta for you. We were up bright (and I do mean that for the sun rises at 6 a.m. in Bali) and early for our tour around Ubud.
Our guide, Newman, turned towards us in the car and said, "You look happy. Slept well?"
We laughed and replied, "Not enough sleep!'
"Honeymoon?" he probed, and with a crook of his eyebrow, I understood what he was driving at.
"NOOO!" we protested.

We are not a couple, and we so didn't have sex. It was amusingly mortifying.

Our first stop was to watch the Barong and Keris dance. It is, in short, a story about the never-ending battle between good and evil. I liked it that the good didn't expectedly triumph. Like Andy said, the Balinese believe that good and evil co-exist side by side. They believe in good, but they also respect the evil. It's very yin and yang.

Here we are at the batik-making establishment.

Checked out the wood-carving and silver and gold villages as well, and I got myself an original Balinese oil painting at one of the painter's gallery. Funny, buying my first piece of art wasn't quite the life-changing moment I'd imagined. Then again, it could be because I was semi-coerced into buying it. I actually had my eye on this very "hooga shaga" piece.

I'd like to think they are doing a sun dance, but they are probably doing a dance for rain, for the crops. It costs USD200 though, and I had to be prepared to go very very hungry if I were to get my hands on it. At the owner's persuasian/insistence, I got myself one of a mosaic sunset instead. It is pretty, really. I'm just gonna have to cultivate some sort of spiritual bond with it.

The Balinese are extremely particular about temple regulations, and only a couple of the countless temples on the island are open to the public. Check out the shot with the funky old lady.

This is the Monkey Forest in Ubud. The monkeys here are supposedly less aggressive than the ones in the other monkey forest on another part of the island. See the yellow umbrella in front of the tree (second picture)? Balinese believe that an umbrella, or a sarong, means that the tree is inhabited by people from the other world. In fact, according to our guide Newman, the Balinese actually marry spirits.

Lunch with a view. A quick fuel-stop for lunch.

And this, is Ubud Market, the first stop on my spiral towards bankruptcy. It reminds me alot of Bangkok's Chatuchak Market, 'cept that it is a lot smaller and less crowded.

Ken caught my bargaining prowess in action. Yes, I can be a cold, calculating shopper, but I'm also nice. See, the shopkeeper and I made up in the end.

The gorgeous view of rice terraces at Tegalalang.

Finally, we arrived at Tanah Lot to catch a glimpse of the famous sunset view. The place was thronged with tourists waiting to watch, to borrow the words from Cafe del Mar, God's own cinema. We were lucky for it was temple festival day, so we also got to see the long procession of locals bearing offerings.

I felt incredibly small, as I always do looking out to sea (and I don't mean Sentosa).

And finally, after almost eight hours of sight-seeing (and some shopping), we called it a day. That's us with our driver in white (gosh, I can't remember his name) and Newman.

23:00 hrs
Hotel room

"I can't quite remember what it was about Bali that had me pining for another visit the past four years. This second trip has made me realise just how sheltered in Nusa Dua I was back in 2002!

Today's tour definitely showed me a different side of Bali. Today, I saw not the facet of sun, sand and surf, but that of its art and cultural heart. While only slightly less touristy as compared to Kuta, Ubud exuded an enchanting bohemian vibe. Art galleries and quirky cafes dotted narrow streets, and self-proclaimed villas were everywhere.

I am inspired to take a sabbatical a couple of years later. Put myself up in one of the home-stays or quaint cottages and take painting lessons; or perhaps take a yoga course in Denpasar. That would be therapeutic. Or I could simply shack up at Kuta once more, but place less emphasis on shopping.

My waning energy levels spiked the minute I stepped foot into Ubud Market, and I blew over S$80 in an hour. Guess I'm not quite the alternative traveller I'd have liked to think of myself as. It is kinda disappointing to be so stereotypically female, but I'm not sorry. It'd be tough though to be a proper travel journalist if I can't even take a holiday without shopping.

When I return the next time round, I will take it slow."

14 December

Took a quick walk through Dynasty Hotel to Tuban Beach. It was low tide, and the shore was filled with a million crab holes and scuttering crabs of various sizes. I felt really guilty about wrecking the holes they have painstakingly dug, but there was no other way through to Kuta Beach.

The waters were clear, but littered with driftwood and fallen leaves. What was really heartwarming though was the sight of the locals working together to clear the beach. Their beach.

I succumbed myself to four hours of bliss being kneaded and pampered for, get this, S$56. It was extremely tempting to continue lazing in the sun after, but I was also impatient to do abit of exploring. And the rest of the evening and night was burnt zipping in and out of boutiques, as well as checking out Hard Rock Cafe.

Can I just say, the changing rooms in the boutiques are extremely spacious and well-designed. And, my biggest splurge this holiday is this RipCurl bikini. It's actually turquoise and not as green as it looks under the warm hotel room lights. S$59. Sure beats getting it in Singapore, no?

15 December

I took a time-out and spent my morning by the pool with my novel. It is the supposed rainy season in Bali but we've been blessed with warm sunny days this whole trip, so that's something to be thankful about.

Visited the nearby Discovery Shopping Mall for a bit of last minute shopping, and it still astounds me to be able to step out of the mall and straight onto the sand. It's wonderful. Kinda how Hawaii will be like I imagine. Bowed out of shopping after my wallet began to feel suspiciously light and I left Ken to his hunt for boardshorts while I retreated to a cafe.

14:14 hrs
Daily Bread Bakery Cafe

"I'd been itching for a visit ever since we passed it on our first night. Daily Bread Bakery Cafe. Who could resist a name like that? It sounds so wholesome and organic, kinda like Bali's answer to Cedele.

And so here I am, alone in the cafe, seeking refuge from the hsutle and bustle of shopping. It's interesting how I feel so comfortable and self-assured with my solitude, despite the people milling around and curious cats peeking in.

Going abroad is synonymous with anonymity, and I like it. It's a little twisted I know, me feeling all unknown and mighty here in Bali, when I am equally unknown back in Singapore. But I remember reading somewhere that being abroad encourages one to break out of set routines and moulds to do what one will usually not do on home turf. It's weird, but true.

Travelling is a liberation of routine."

Paradise isn't exactly how I'd remembered it to be, which is kinda tough for the Bali in my memories was one of perpetual sunsets, and that is scientifically impossible.

The Bali I have experienced is a tourist mecca. Touters line the streets and the flea markets aren't much different from those in Thailand, albeit quieter and less grand. In fact, with its messy streets and persistent stall owners, Bali kinda resembles Thailand.

Perhaps my virgin Bali trip in 2002 built some misconceptions about paradise. Or perhaps the 16-year-old me was not well-travelled enough to be jaded. That said, Bali still holds its allure.

The smell of the sea the moment I step out of the airport. The Balinese hospitality (that definitely beats the Land of Smiles). The intangible culture. The piousness of the locals, and their emphasis on religion. I still cannot understand how the bombers could bear to lay their hands, twice, on such holy land.

Tainted paradise, I will be back.

Remembering.

2006-07-25T13:32:00.000+08:00

What to you is a good holiday? An exotic destination? Fantastic shopping? Great food? Gorgeous landscapes? I definitely will not deny that the above factors contribute to a great getaway, but a good holiday to me at least is one where I will get a tinge of a heartache when I have to leave for home. My heart broke a little when I left Bali in 2002, and it broke a little again when I left Bintan on Sunday.

Now, the travel agency which Cecilia and I booked our package from had the art of creating illusions down pat. We are aware of the wonders of Photoshop and are definitely not naive enough to expect the resort to look exactly like it did in the brochure, but what greeted us at Bintan was nothing quite like we expected.

Despite the initial disappointment, Bintan turned out to be one of the unexpectedly fulfilling holidays I've had so far. Boat trips out with the locals, bantering with our guides and resort staff, doing crazy things like driving out to spy on couples making out... all the tangible factors the resort lacked was more than made up for by the locals with their genuine hospitality.

Not many managed to conceal their surprise when I decided to make the switch to pursue a degree in Communication Studies. Where was the girl, who despite well meaning advice from relatives, insisted on travelling an hour and a half everyday to the other side of Singapore just so she could pursue her interest in Hospitality Management?

Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with someone who's passion in hospitality far surpasses mine and many others' I know. And I learnt that to make your guests happy, a good hotelier would sometimes have to sacrifice his own personal engagements. When I bore the brunt of one too many broken engagements, I got jaded, and I hate admit this, selfish. I felt that the opportunity cost just wasn't worth it.

This short trip to Bintan however rekindled the embers of my passion. On the receiving end of such warm hospitality, I remembered how it is like to want to make someone's day, be it with a smile or a chat.

Though I didn't quite achieve the inner peace I'd initially seeked to find while I am away, Bintan opened my mind up to just that few more possibilities and opportunities. And to borrow a couple of lines from You Could Be Happy by Snow Patrol, a song which a friend has been actively promoting...

"Do the things that you always wanted to
Without me there to hold you back, don't think, just do
More than anything I want to see you go
Take a glorious bite out of the whole world."

Back from the land of smiles.

2006-03-08T14:01:00.000+08:00

Food for thought: Why is Thailand called the land of smiles? The locals in Bangkok weren't quite the friendly bunch I'd expected.

Though this trip was more of a shopping trip more than anything else, I've returned with new ideals, dreams and questions. This is how I am - every trip out of Singapore gets the wheels in my head turning. I haven't gone into full post-trip reflection mode yet, but here's a huge realization I made about myself:

I don't quite fancy city holidays. Sure, Bangkok was a haven for shopaholics like myself but as we were all busy trying to cram the many shopping spots into our limited time there, it was barely the relaxing and rejuvenating getaway I had visualized. Thinking back on my past vacations, I've concluded that unless I'm at a resort where I have absolutely no itinerary.. where I can wake up when I please, splash around in the waters and soak up the sun... then a holiday ain't quite a holiday for me. So shopping ain't as important to me as I had thought it to be.

Shopping and reflections aside, the food was lip smacking delicious. Basil pork. Beef noodles. Wanton mee. Red ruby. Thailand is quite the foodie haven! In fact, I am inspired to pick up Thai cooking! I even went to Borders today to get myself a Thai cookbook. That's how serious I am baby. Meanwhile, here's an excerpt from my travel diary. Enjoy.

"Bangkok Day 3
Bkk time: 1900 hrs

The day was winding down was we weaved our way through Pratunam Market. As the scorching heat of the day slowly slipped into the humid coolness of evening, the throngs of people ironically dwindled.

As families gather in the front of shops, the kids playing and the adults curiously eyeing the passers-by; shopkeepers go just a little more slack with their haggling. Despite the chaotic and shabby living conditions uncommonly seen by us city slickers, the warmth of family life permeated the sticky stillness of the air into my heart.

Though the pace of life is different, we have such evenings back in hectic Singapore too. Who will be there with me to kick off our shoes and flop onto the couch after a busy work day?"

Note (20 Feb. 2007): This was honestly the first trip where I was introduced to the nitty-gritty of travelling, and the one where I found out how horribly bad at directions I was. I was the baby of the group I was with, and I realised how I had to learn to fend for myself, and be more streetwise. This has inspired my later travels. I will not be the traveller I am today if not for this Bangkok getaway.

Love and fats - an analogy

2005-11-26T01:08:00.000+08:00

I was in my reflective-mode a couple of weeks prior to the trip, or as the author of Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus book puts it, I was in "my cave". I'd expected to clear my head during a contemplative moment on the plane, but enlightenment came in bits and pieces as I toured Dubai.

Seeing a poster of an elderly couple advertising for a condominium as the perfect retirement home made me wonder. There was the constant coincidental playing of stickwitu. Then there was that conversation on the bus with Jane where we predicted the future of us six in the gang.

Cheesy old-school love songs played on in the background as I stared at the river from the dhow cruise, watching the twinkling lights of the city skyline reflect off the dark waters like floating jewels. It was post dinner, and after days of heavy eating buffet-style, I was feeling more than a little conscious of that extra bit of blubber around my waist.

At that moment, an image filled my mind. Even if I were to return to Singapore with blubber ten times thicker and with a double chin to boot, I know whose hug will still be as warm and whose arms will still hold me as snugly.

This time away is slowly bringing me around, and guiding and head and my heart to where they belonged all this time.

Jane couldn't imagine me with anyone else. Neither can I.