Hot Is Best

It's a strange sort of day where 2 meals were spent at strange 'Japanese restaurants'. Neither of which are my choices, clearly. The girlfriend was very terrible and emphasized that I'm "very picky" about Japanese food. Since nobody was buying lunch and we went Dutch, it didn't matter that much. Anyway, since I didn't have any cravings and the amount of food ingested wasn't large, I didn't really care.

These eateries are about as authentic as some ramen shops in town. But I don't think very much of a self-proclaimed Japanese restaurant if they don't use sushi rice in general, and when they do, it's done with third grade grains. Worse, the other restaurant serves those fake crab sticks you see at cheap steamboat buffets, and proudly display a bunch of them at the sushi counter. Oh dear. I haven't even started on the quality of their tofu used, most evident in cold tofu. Never mind about the poor quality green tea and horrible wasabi that accompany the food.

I reiterate, at these eateries (I refuse to term them as restaurants), stick to cooked food. Hot preferably. Never make the mistake of ordering sashimi and sushi. If you don't have an issue with teriyaki chicken don or beef yakiniku don, gyozas, cutlets and the sorts, these are probably their best dishes. Oh, and some will do fairly decent selections of red bean, green tea and black sesame ice-cream. These eateries will rarely present you with fruits from Japan for dessert.

The day was saved by the humble teapot soup. I enjoyed that. They got that right. Rather well. It was flavorful and satisfying. At least that was something.

It's Just Another Monday

It was a noisy table that sat down to dinner at 9.25pm. We were tickled that this evening, none of us could make the earlier timing at 8pm and had to all sheepishly shift it later.

I'm glad that my friends understand why I'm still pulling the late nights at work even though I can sorta 'switch off' and get away with most things. We know that late nights at work don't mean we're inefficient. It's usually because we're stuck at meetings all day and have no time to clear emails or get down and dirty to brainstorm the actual work necessary.

I don't know if I want to get back into the social whirl. I doubt it. If any, I'm more anti-social than ever. Being older also means there're certain conversations I'm not interested in and people I'm not bothered to cultivate. For this reason, I won't do very well in the public relations industry. I don't even know why I ever thought I'd be good at it. Duhh. I've done alot of things I've wanted to do, fulfilled many desires and dreams. Now, I want even more. I didn't just learn and understand the concept of 'carpe diem'. I live life so that if I die tomorrow, I have little, if no regrets.

A girlfriend commented that "We're all in a mid-life crisis!" Ummm.....not exactly lah. It's just that at some point in our third decade on this earth, we don't want to follow the 'norm' or the stereotypes anymore. It's just how we've been conditioned- the Singaporean idea of success and stability. There're other models that we prefer. And now, we're brave enough to follow our dreams, we take the leap of faith. (No, we're not fans of 'Eat, Pray, Love', the movie or the book. We dislike it, emphatically.)

To be clear, I don't view my 5 years as a salaried employee as a waste of time. It's a chapter of my life that I've come to appreciate. It has filled in a facet that I'd otherwise not quite have known since the carefree days after graduation from university. The job has provided great insights and wonderful opportunities that have honed certain opinions and ideas, as well as nurtured a greater commitment to my passions. For your information, I decided not to have children when I was 12 years old, and at 18, I decided that the elderly will take precedence in all charity projects. I don't see a need to change that at all. Now that I've wider and deeper resources at disposal, this same fire burns brighter.

There was a lunch with someone who does come across as fairly pompous and arrogant, though not without good reason. I don't care very much for his opinions on a wide range of subjects. But when it comes to his specialty and his passion in volunteer work, he's definitely not boasting. In fact, within the stories, I recognize a certain sort of long-term commitment, focus, clarity and strong power of organization in the volunteer missions he leads. I admire his strength in plunging headlong into a rather desolate region in the country.

The girlfriend sent a precious gift of 2 notebooks and a card that noted "new adventures in 2011". Indeed. Months ago after I called it quits with the job, I said I'm not sure what the new year will bring. I'm still none the wiser. However, as the new year beckons, the canvas is no longer blank. There's this really sketchy outline that's slowly appearing. I don't know how it'll be inked or how the colors will be filled and how it should eventually pan out as a painting. But I know it's going to be exciting.

By The River

We went to check out the gigs at Esplanade's Outdoor Theatre. Against the backdrop of what our skyline, we soaked in the full humidity of the evening. For the friends who've been away from Singapore for just 2 years, much has changed. Indeed, none of us should ever come back to expect things will be the same here. Well, except for a couple of unmovable entities.

We've all watched the documentaries on Discovery Channel about our newest addition to the skyline and wondrous water technologies. So yes, we've much to be proud of. But it shouldn't mean arrogance in any form. This country began as a society of immigrants, and nothing has changed in essence. I tend to cringe and inch away from Singaporeans if I should hear them when overseas. That accent is unmistakable and terribly recognizable. Often, Singaporeans make the most embarrassing comments when we travel.

The night scene is vibrant with the sounds of the bands filling up the space. There're plenty of people around. Each time a remark is made that Singapore is boring and there's nothing to do besides watching a movie, shop and eat, I disagree. There're plenty of other things to do (without need to pay) if one bothers to search them out. I can't help you if you choose to lead a boring life and whine about it instead of making an effort to spice it up.

Amidst the laughter and social whirl, through our camera lens, we suddenly noticed that The Helix Bridge had lights too.

My Quiet Day

It was perfect that the man had gigs to occupy him. I had the day all to myself, exactly what was needed after a hectic week. Never mind the irritating 7am wake-up calls. I saw too many humans during the week and had to freeze the smile on my face often. That was draining.

No social demands were fulfilled today. I was quite happy not to talk to anyone at length and just do stuff at the scheduled intervals. It was quite a lucky shot to get appointments at the last minute.

A quick sprint in the pool followed by a session of pilates stretched out all kinks. Then I went for an excruciatingly painful massage to soothe out the rest of the knots. The day ended with a much-needed facial. I really ought to take better care of the face, except I'm just too lazy about it.

The brain went into snooze mode all the way and didn't exactly wake up. I feel relaxed and stretched. I finally unpacked all the boxes from London and cleared out the week's laundry, drycleaning and ironing. It's time to turn my attention onto the social requirements of the festive season. Let's see if I feel up to doing anything. It's quite a chore, really. I'm in no mood for glitter and glamor. I'd prefer to move across the festivities in simplicity. Otherwise, I'll probably disappear to a destination where no erupting volcano can disrupt travel plans.

Many Farewell Meals Coming Up

Once our duties were done at the airport, we heaved a sigh of relief. It's been a long week. I was in a surprisingly sociable mood. It was time to eat. Since we had cleared our schedules for this week, neither of us had planned anything for tonight. We might as well have something at the airport. So Crystal Jade it was. All I wanted, was a bowl of porridge. The work associate wanted a light meal too.

I've known him for 4 years and while we've sat down to work meals at the same table, we've not actually eaten together. Might as well be tonight. I like his attitude towards his work and each time we run an event together, I know I can trust this guy. He's absolutely dependable. It made for an excellent working relationship.

It was very pleasant conversation. And finally, I got to know him a little better. And of course, I was particularly interested in his job, the technicalities and what it entails. :p So he explained it all and elaborated on many details. It kinda sounds fun, and best of all, there is alot of flexibility within. He was like, "Come come, join us!" Heh. The job involves burning many weekends, and that might make a dent in my social calendar. We'll see.

The other day, I went up to the colleague's office for a chat, a pot of tea, raspberry and white chocolate cookies. It's an odd thing I suppose. Work associates/colleagues aren't exactly friends, but they aren't strangers either. For the ones I'm closer too, I'm sorting out meals and bidding adieu. There are meagre opportunities of seeing them on the work circuit again.

At the end of the night, we shook hands by way of farewell. I might see him around, or I might not. No matter how, he's one of those who made the daily grind less of a drag and work chugs along smoothly, and I appreciate his help all these years.

Over Many Rooftops

It was a confusing mix of emotions. I was almost dreading it, yet welcoming it- this last key thing happening at work that I was supposed to babysit. I cleared all my schedule just to accommodate the demands of this event. Then the day arrived and all went well. I loved the buzz and was totally immersed in the week and its programme schedule. It was quite alot of fun and not the least bit tough to manage. The people I interacted with were surprisingly nice. But in the blink of an eye, the week passes, and a tinge of nostalgia lingers.

I don't know if I'll get another busy week like this. Perhaps in January 2011, perhaps not. This particular event doesn't seem like it's going to happen, and quite frankly, I don't really care if it doesn't. This event will see us being put up in another shitty hotel in a red light district, or a hostel where I've to bring my own bathing towel and toilet paper.

I've got one more month at work in January 2011, and then, I'm truly done with this chapter of my life. I thought about clearing out the desk and packing up. When I sifted through the accumulated stuff of 5 years, I realized I didn't need any. All I want are my bear, pens, cds and notebooks. The rest are simply, junk. There's nothing else I want to take home. Not the stereo set, paintings, shoes, shoe-rack, cosmetic pouches, lunch bag, suitcases, files and whatnots.

In fact, I'm going to clear out my wardrobe big time soon. I want to throw out all the dowdy work clothes too. I HATE THEM WITH A PASSION. They've very nearly defined how I look for the past 5 years. It's a look that's utterly annoying. I stare at the image in the mirror and often, a stranger stares back. I'm happiest when evenings and the weekends roll around and I can live in jeans all day.

People say, "Copy out information you need and take it with you. Soft copies are precious!" I'm not bothered. The soft copies are the intellectual property of the organisation. Whatever I can do, I can easily replicate off the top of my head. There's nothing of future value to me in the soft copies of any piece of work I do now. Importantly, I'm not likely to return to this industry. In case you haven't noticed, I'm very fond of burning bridges. It's a method that has always worked well for me.

Spices, Yay!

After countless dinners on a round table with Chinese dishes or badly done western fare, I was terribly glad for a meal that didn't involve chicken served in an instantly recognizable fashion. I was also very glad that being an Indian restaurant, the spices weren't totally toned down for the customers.

When sorting out venues for work lunches, the office is perpetually haunting the restaurants at the Dempsey area, and alot of Jaan when Andre Chiang was there. That probably explains why I'm not too hot about having personal meals at Dempsey during the evenings and the weekends.

Vintage India is quite a popular venue for work lunches. I honestly love the food. I'll be a happy camper if I could eat it every other day. A pity the guests I usually host don't appreciate Indian spices and I end up eating yet another duhhh Chinese meal most of the time. So this lunch, I totally pigged out. Thanksgiving? Hell, yeah. It isn't often that a work lunch is actually enjoyable.

There was chicken during this meal of course. But it was all smothered with gravy and spices that people couldn't quite tell if it was chicken or a really tough piece of fish. I didn't bother. There were plenty of stuff to eat, like lots of garlic naan, dhaal and pilaf. I was just thrilled that a vegetarian sat next to me. He had special dishes served up, and I shamelessly stole his food. Ha.

Turkey (?) Day

Some hae meat and canna eat, -

And some wad eat that want it;

But we hae meat, and we can eat,

Sae let the Lord be thankit.

~Robert Burns

The celebration of harvest has evolved into a celebration of something else, and everything about food- good, better, best. As my dietary preferences change, I'm not particularly experimental about food or tolerant of people who wag their fingers in my face at my food choices.

Wryly I wonder, if Thanksgiving is such a politically correct celebration in terms of its food. Look at the greater furore it raised this year about turkeys. Turkeys! They're the staple of any Thanksgiving dinner, and for Christmas. And well, I used to prefer turkey ham over pork ham.

My not-in-lala-land aunts are trying to be funny. They have gone out to the markets, bought 'eating' geese (not the ornamental ones) and are raising and fattening them for the Christmas meals instead of turkey. The aunts on the other side of the Atlantic have followed suit and served up geese for Thanksgiving tonight. It's very disconcerting to see your food walk around before it's dead. I fail to see how that can be more exciting than buying a dead turkey at the market. Oh well. I'm not about to waste Skype credits arguing with them or watch their geese flap their wings.

Then, as I'm going through emails now, it's quite another thing see almost real-time photos gleefully sent by the Aunts of their Thanksgiving bird (the geese/goose) roasting in the ovens now. Very disturbing. All done in between running commentary bitching about the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade that's underway.

Happy Thanksgiving, silly people. Remember to dish out blessings to those who need it more than you do.

Berliner Philharmoniker

It was a surprise to see 2 dates for the Berlin Philharmonic's stop in Singapore. Rather flattering to the little red dot. I'm never been keen on Haydn and Brahms. I failed miserably when trying to write an essay about them, and the music teacher could only despair at my incompetent grasp of this portion of my musical education. Till today, there's no way I will sit through Haydn's Symphony No. 99 in E-Flat major or Brahms' Symphony No. 2 in D major. And I'm too shallow to understand Berg's angsty and almost weird Three Pieces for Orchestra.

I'm not sure how much credit to accord to Sir Simon Rattle. Sure, he's really charismatic and by the power of his baton, he holds the orchestra together and teases out each delicate layer into thoroughly confusing complexity. However, I like to think that the orchestra is made up of immensely talented people who are equally driven, and given the right conductor like Sir Simon Rattle, in these 8 years together, they've reached a state of near perfection. The orchestra brought out the full haunting quality of Rachmaninov's Symphonic Dances Op. 45 and heightened its lilting melodies. How can I not remember the times of Diaghilev and Ballet Russes? Ahhhh. Such nice memories. No, I didn't fall asleep.

I like Mahler. And I'm fortunate to have been able to hear many selections of his symphonies live. Most of all, his Symphony No.1 in D Major. I heard one interpretation last year. And it's fantabulous to hear another this year by the Berlin Philharmonic.

MySingapore

The day's activities offered me a ride on the bumboat and a view of sunset over the city's skyline. We bobbed almost all the way up to Marina Barrage, stared at the 3 strange wavy trunks that are Marina Bay Sands, and chugged back to the Merlion Pier, of which I avoided every conversation about the Merlion. It's like Santa Claus, you know. I never believed in it even as a kid. Anyway, the change of scenery was refreshing.

Is it awesome that I live in this amazing city? Yes, in many ways, I'm proud of my country, which has nothing to do with my opinions on domestic politics. It is entirely separate, and in my mind, almost mutually exclusive.

I wasn't exactly thinking about cheeemology topics. I was simply pondering on how poetic it would be for me to hold a whisky glass in hand or a bloody mary on the 40-minute ride. Yes, I sorely miss alcohol today.

What, Noodles?!

I'm not really sure what got into the man. I woke up and found him in the kitchen chopping up ingredients and using tons of vinegar to prepare what looks suspiciously like a Chinese meal.

He was trying out Momofuku's Ginger Scallion Noodles! Alamak. He's not known to be intuitive when it comes to cooking Asian. He doesn't cook Asian food, period. I always think he should stick to western. But he's just a curious boy. Thou shalt not dampen enthusiasm.

Ummmm.......unfortunately for him, this creation tastes nowhere near the original. Not that I'm looking for the same flavors, but there's too much of an emphasis on the ginger and vinegar. In fact, the whole dish tasted of nothing but ginger and sherry vinegar. The mushrooms were too pickled and the bamboo shoots were too salty. :p Actually, it tasted more Japanese than Chinese. There were Japanese cucumbers, soy and seaweed. Maybe that's why.

He wants to attempt this again. And I think this round, he's going to garner more guinea pigs for an even distribution of opinions. Hmmm. I told him to roast a chicken as a back-up dish. He says I'm too critical. What?! I'm being honest!

In-Flight Food

I wasn't interested in SQ's fancy food menu. I only wanted a fishball kway teow soup. But they didn't stock on this LHR-SIN flight. HOW CAN?!!! :( I ate that on the way up and that bowl was too salty. I was hoping for one more on the way home and the crew will make it nicer. Well, at least they had fish porridge. That will do. Rupert was all excited about it. It's his first time on a plane where he isn't cargo. Spoilt Sydney looked a tad disappointed. Sure, the porridge was clump-y at the bottom, but hey, it didn't come out of a pot. The fish was surprisingly soft and fresh, not too frozen-eeky as I thought.

The man had pre-ordered some roast duck rice thingy. WAHAHAHAH. That was terrible. It looked unappetizing. He should have known! I didn't understand why he would order a plate of Chinese food for the flight home when clearly, western food would have been the wiser choice. DOH. This isn't like the rather good nasi bryani he had on the way up. He should have just picked Indian vegetarian. That would have been much better.

I had a terribly sweet tiramisu ice-cream drizzled with caramel and then Belgian waffles for breakfast. Not that I liked them very much. I took just 3 bites or so. I needed the sugar to get over any possible jet lag. I try to pick the best timings to escape from jetlag, and usually it works. Anyway, it's nothing that a 3-hour nap can't solve. I stick to lots of water, juice, fruits and cheese for meals on the plane.

See Ya, London!

The queue at the VAT refund counter had a ton of people. I wasn't about to go stand for an hour to clear my receipts. Sod it. I want to have a fuss-free flight home. I'm not going turn up at the airport 3.5hrs earlier and queue for 1hr 20 minutes to claim £200.

Each time I shop in London, I don't do so with the purpose of claiming VAT on the items, well knowing how crazy the queues can be. So I don't feel the pinch. Anyway, the items are already cheaper than what it is in Singapore, so I ain't gonna complain. Or one could shop at the airport. Limited as the selections are, the choices aren't that much better in the boutiques either.

Luckily, security clearance at Heathrow doesn't involve AIT body scanners, yet. In the USA, we have the right to reject passing through these scanners, but will be subject to a thoroughly invasive pat-down. You might feel violated, but if you're one those who aren't keen on AIT radiation, no matter how miniscule, you will not want to do it. I'm NOT particular pleased about the whole shenanigans about it. Let's see how it goes. For now, I don't want to fly to any US destination and feel like I'm a criminal while sitting in a nice comfy seat on the plane. They might as well handcuff me there and then before landing.

We spent a long time in DFS, staring at the single malts on the shelves, trying very hard to decide what to buy. Laphroiag 25 y.o, Old Pulteney 21 y.o or Talisker 57º North, et cetera. Very exciting. After checking in 2 enormous suitcases, we've nothing else to carry. We had earlier couriered home 2 boxes of shopping bags, groceries and assorted perishables. When I travel, I don't like being weighed down with other people's shopping lists. If they hand it to me, it's with the understanding that they either pay for shipping if their lists are ridiculously long, or I'll simply purchase at London retail price without VAT refund. I'll not stand in the queue for any reason because I rarely do it for myself. My time is more precious. Next year VAT is rumored to go up to 20%. I'LL STILL NOT DO VAT REFUND BECAUSE THE QUEUES WILL BE EVEN MORE RIDICULOUS. The most silly thing one can do is to shop for people you don't particularly like, or people who think that my 60kg luggage weight can include their bulky and heavy items, like a box for their Hermes Victoria Tote. Humans really, sometimes, don't use their brains.

The last thing to do before flying out from is to sit at the counter of Caviar House & Prunier for some breakfast. The man insisted, "It's a tradition." Yes, yes. We do that. They do stock my favorite brand of bottled water. Heh. The seafood is always yummy. But its coffee is nothing to shout about. But the coffee at the SilverKris lounge is eeeky too, so I might as well sit here on the high stools and absorb the last bits of London.

Bye Autumn

You know Nat King Cole's 'Autumn Leaves'? It's depressing to think about this part "I miss you most of all my darling when autumn leaves start to fall". It's rather melancholic. No, I don't view it in the romantic sort of way. So as I bid goodbye to all the Aunts, they gave me fierce hugs that lasted for minutes. By the last hug, I want to cry already. The Aunts tsk-ed at me. "Don't be useless. No crying."

I don't plan my trips, but I want to shimmy out and up whenever I can. But some Aunts, I can only send them my wishes and thoughts. There will be no such thing as hard copy mail or cards. Emails will be the only means of communication. Hope Skype works. I am optimistic that they won't die on me just yet, and next Christmas, or even next summer, I'll see them again.

The leaves have more or less fallen off all the trees. It's colder in the areas surrounding Londontown now. A hot water bottle is just glorious in this weather. I suppose in another week, autumn will be truly over. They're placing bets on whether it'll snow in Londontown, or whether traffic will cripple England again this winter.

A Scarf

I brought a ray of Luang Prabang's sunshine with me to grey, misty and dreary London. The chirpy orange scarf is bought from the small town and carries good memories. It exudes the richness of raw silk and somehow, it does keep me almost as warm as cashmere in the not-too-excruciating cold.

Since my day wardrobe consists of mainly white tops and dark jeans on this trip, the color goes with most clothes. I like it quite a bit till I keep wearing it over the rest of the neutral colored scarves. Then I remember to have it laundered before it turns stinky.

In milder climates, it's the de rigueur accessory in the colder months and the fashionable thing to do in summer. The whole street wears one in all styles and fluff volume. I don't feel too weird in one. The irony, I wouldn't have a clue how to wear a scarf in Singapore. It's not really my style, which probably explains why I don't own many scarves and am perplexed if someone hands it to me as a gift. I wouldn't know what to do with it or when to wear it. It makes me feel, older and dowdy, instead of feeling elegant.

The Glasshouse

After visiting friends at Kew Gardens, we hopped into The Glasshouse for dinner. It's not an unfamiliar restaurant to us. We've eaten there twice previously. We like it because it's kinda out of town and still sorta casual.

As sister restaurant to La Trompette and Chez Bruce, The Glasshouse offers a twist to the traditional flavors of modern European cuisine. These 3 restaurants have distinctly different contemporary influences fused with classical French style cooking.

The Glasshouse uses alot of Asian tones in its menu. There was a starter of sashimi of seabass with wasabi mayonaise, shrimp beignet and guacamole, grilled mackerel and miso, oyster dressing, shiso leaf and crisy squid. The friends loved it. I'm totally in love with my starter of cep and potato soup with cheese and mushroom brioche. It was excellent! I did tell them to go easy on the cream though.

Apparently this restaurant is known for its slow-cooked pork belly. Oooh. None of us ordered it. The others went for chicken leg, roast loin of venison, duck margret and steamed plaice. My wild silver mullet had fine herbs and bok choi. The base of brown shrimps and bisque risotto was rather fishy, but tasty. It was a bisque after all. I got used to it rather quickly, and it went swimmingly with the fish. And the bok choi was really quite refreshing! Everyone was most satisfied with the evening meal.

I couldn't do dessert on my own and had to share. 4 of us shared a plate of port roast plums with warm cinnamon beignets and creme fraiche ice-cream. What ice-cream?! It was creme fraiche pure! I like the roast plums because they're tart and the whole thing isn't too sweet. But I could only manage 3 bites before calling it quits and paying attention to the wine. We had so much wine that night. White, red and sweet. Whewwww.

Hummus Bros, Of Course

Despite the exciting food scene in London, we won't forget Hummus Bros. We're still fond of its simple menu which meets all our needs for late night dining. The outlet at Soho closes late. Perfect for proper post-theatre bites. Rather than eating shite food across the street at Chinatown, we come here because the hummus hit a sweet spot. Hummus, carrot sticks and pita bread are beautiful.

We always make the effort to hop into Hummus Bros at least twice in the course of a trip. I take my seat along the window and I've got that aloe vera juice with honey and grape thingy which is totally thirst quenching and refreshing. Guacamole and mushroom are usually what I order. If you must know, they do hummus in chicken and chunk beef too. Apparently it's nice. The man likes the beef because it reminds him of beef stew.

Go crazy on the pita bread that comes hot to the touch. You can always walk it off later. But we make the mistake of piling on the calories with "just one more beer" on the way out of Soho. It's never just one. More like two.

Movies, Gigs And The Theatre

Between the movies, gigs and the West End shows, I've been kept busy most evenings. If there's a toss-up between an event or a fancy dinner out, I'll choose to go for the former. Very easy choice. The restaurants will be there, somehow. Even if it closes down, there'll be another equivalent or better. The industry is about change and innovating to suit the customers' demands. I'm ambivalent about food like that. But an event, is an event and I might never catch it again. Even it does repeat, it'll never be identical.

So many things to watch and so little time! And unfortunately, I'll also miss many shows that will do its winter run soon. Such a pity! There're many good things to watch. I should stay in London for 2 months at a stretch, just so I could catch most of the stuff I want! Not to mention I would have plenty of time to do group hacks and become a totally savvy horse-rider by then. I've been riding since I was a little kid, but not that often to be really good at it. I'm very comfortable on a horse, but not as familiar as I'd have liked.

The one thing I'm very deprived of at home is being able to catch good plays. Here, I'm overdosing on it. Weekends are absolutely filled! Accomplice, An Ideal Husband, Blood and Gifts, Broken Glass, Charged, Death Trap, Hamlet and Yes, Prime Minister. Then, there're the ballet and the opera- Sylvia and Romeo et Juliette. Totally West End-ed and Royal-ed out.

The weather station predicts snow next week. I don't really care. As far as I'm concerned, I don't like snow. If I have to have snow, I better be either skiing on it, or snowboarding down across it. Which reminds me, I've been rusty in these 2 sports. All those training. To think I used to spend up to 4 hours each session on the slopes. Woah. Time to re-awaken the muscles for the next vacation, and be prepared to lose all my toenails and break a couple of fingernails.

Chicken Eggs

You know I've no more relations with chickens, but I still maintain a queer relationship with chicken eggs. I like them done in any way, however, raw is best.

Which brings me to my pet peeve of the taste of eggs. Sure, nothing beats warm eggs straight from the hen. But when I can't get that, then I hope to have more choices with my eggs. I'm quite restricted by that in Singapore. Here, I'm not! It's quite a pleasure browsing through a menu and have it state exactly where the eggs come from in terms of farm, provinciality and type of hens.

Since I get to buy eggs and stock up on groceries in London, I've gone crazy with the eggs. It's just awesome trawling the supermarkets and the small shops to see what varieties they have, and what sort of promises they make for the eggs. The Aunts are raising their eyebrows at just how many cartons of eggs I bought and, versus how many I've eaten.

I can't help it. Am a complete sucker for the words 'free range'. Yes yes, buy local. I'd so do it in London. I just can't bring myself to do it in Singapore. It's all in the taste of the egg. Trust me, they taste different, not just in terms of freshness by the day. There's a marked difference between the eggs that come from different breeds of hens. Okay, I sound like a bird brain here. :p

Anyway, raw eggs are just beautiful. I can have them plain, or added in a glass of milk, or stirred within a bowl of muesli or cornflakes. I just don't like combining yoghurt with eggs. That's a bit off. If I fall really ill and kena salmonella poisoning, you know why.

Lunch At Home

Humans really don't need to eat so much. Well, liking the food is one thing, eating to sustain physical energy is another. There're some days where one full 3-course dinner or lunch is enough. Nibbles for the rest of the day would suffice.

On some days we go overboard on bread, pâté and cheese. I like the easy mix of comté, pecorino and perail. Add the fruits, cheerful tomatoes and beans, along with a huge dish of salad, lunch can be immensely filling, oddly.

The man loves his duck liver pate and chicken liver black truffle mix. He'll do slices of ham and prosciutto as well. I'll stick with mushroom pate. Importantly, these go swimmingly well with sourdough and mixed grain breads. I'm not too fond of olive bread even though they look so pretty! The breads are BIG! They can feed 6 people easily! Slicing them up and popping them into the oven for a bit make for delicious eating. If you're really hardworking, you could chop up the ingredients and boil up a clear vegetable or a chicken soup which will be perfect for winter. While you're at it, portion out more so that you could just freeze the extras and heat them up the next day. No need to go through the pain of cooking daily in winter.

We've warm water flowing through the taps. Trust me, you don't want to do the dishes in icy cold water while all snug in a warm parlor. We don't need any sort of central heating at all just yet, except for the towel racks. The house hasn't got drafts of cold air wafting through. It isn't too cold, but winter is coming on strong. You can feel the new chill in the air. I don't really like winter. Like how animals hibernate during winter, I'd love to do nothing but snuggle under the blankets and flop around at home all day. Oh, and hug a hot water bottle. They're absolutely perfect for misty mornings and foggy days like this.

At The Train Station

We were up and about at first light to head out to another of the Aunts. Taking the train this time. No car. Like I always said, If we don't get on the public transport of a country at some point, we'll never really know a city. London is one of those cities where you need to do this.

A tube and train map in hard copy isn't good enough. Get an app. It works much more seamlessly. I don't think the lines are confusing at all. Quite easy. Best if you've data access on your smartphone- you get updates about which stations and lines they arbitrarily close at any one time without much notice. Like during this period. They're either on strike, doing engineering works, had a signal failure or something.

The Waterloo train station was packed already. No surprise there. London is such a big city that it's crowded all the time. Victoria station is a nightmare at peak hours. Ugh. You want to avoid the tube if you possibly can. Walk. Walking about London and sprinting up and down the stairs of the Underground and for the trains guarantees you significant weight loss in winter. I've never put on weight on trips to cold climates. I always shed the weight because of the extra exercise (be it riding, skiing or walking) during these trips. Awesome. This trip is precisely what I need to get over the plateau to lose the next 5kg and build muscles.

2 trains run every half hour to our destination. I can't believe I found train stations interesting. I'm most fascinated by the availability of pubs that dot the landscape, as well as the rather exciting foods section of Marks & Spencer. I always stop by to buy a pot orchids or flowers for the home visits. Always, I love WH Smith. There's always something to buy. Books are much cheaper. So are the magazines, if I don't already have an online subscription to them. The man has bought so many iTunes top-up cards that he's grinning like a chipmunk about it. He's been zealously downloading stuff every night.

The Chinese Restaurants In London

I've very little tolerance for Chinese food in London. I come from a country with tons of Chinese restaurants. Why would I want to try Chinese food elsewhere unless it's in Shanghai or Hong Kong? I'm not a real foodie this way. All I eat will be the soup, fish, vegetables and porridge. Besides, I've given my heart to Lung King Heen.

But I do make concessions for one or two Chinese meals each trip. More often than not, our hosts will automatically assume we miss our Chinese food and rice, and will insist on taking us to Chinese restaurants for lunch. Ummm....no lor. If I'm at the dim sum table, I'll be thinking of bread, cheese and tomatoes. Oh well, some of the hosts like the food, I won't be fussy about it. I spend most of the meals in conversation rather than actual ingesting of dim sum. One can't deny that Chinese food is easy because it pleases most people in most cultures. Default food, almost.

With this trip, we've completed the grand tour of London's Chinese restaurants which are in the vogue. Royal China at Canary Wharf, China Tang, Hakkasan, Pearl Liang, and now Yauatcha. I don't know how to speak more about the food. They're edible, for sure. But they don't blow my mind. They meet the table's expectations at each meal. And clearly, these restaurants are a breath of fresh air from their dodgy cousins at Leicester Square and Bayswater. Service is much more pleasant.

The one thing I look forward to having at these restaurants is their tea. The selection of tea is wide and they come properly brewed and served in delicate teacups and teapots. Over the course of a meal, I can have 3 different types of teas- the light ones to start, the medium bodied to match the flavors of the food and a small strong cup to complete the meal.

Picking Up Stuff

I swung by Hermès to pick up items that arrived after we ordered it a couple of months earlier. The London boutiques and outlets at Selfridges and Harrods are always not stocking enough things to choose. I think they're making it 'exclusive' for whatever reason. But we get around it.

The friends told me to saunter over to Paris to pick up whatever I need. I could, but I'm not inclined to. As you can see, I'm not very fond of Paris. The friends who are living there, can't wait to get away to the other cities on the weekends. I suppose I can say the same for London. It's not very attractive after a while. It's a city to work in for sure, but not so much to stay week after week after week. It gets dreary. But the good thing is, there're things to do outside the city. So it makes it palatable. Brighton, Devon, Exeter, Reading, Cornwall and all are just a scenic drive away.

Now that Hermès has a new shareholder, I'm not sure what this would mean in terms of design, texture and quality of their products. The conglomerate that just bought into them is known for being adventurous. And that is the last thing I want to see in its designs next spring or most likely, summer's debut. I like them designs boring and almost conservative. Sort of like timeless classics, if you will.

Meanwhile, I'll just stock up on the items that are pleasing to the eye currently. I'm curious about its future designs, but not too excited about it. We'll see. The sales executives were a little mortified when I told them to squash 2 or better still, 3 items into one box. Hey, they can be squeezed! I'm not going to lug 3 boxes when 1 will do. It makes for easier shipping.

The Last Few Cups At Flat White

Monmouth Coffee isn't a place to sit down and enjoy a cuppa. It's somewhere I'll do coffee to-go, especially if I'm in a rush. Much easier than squeezing into its cramped and crowded space. But at Flat White, it's much more comfortable to do breakfast, or lunch. I don't care either way. The same food works for me.

On a rainy, cold and windy morning, I made the miserable wet trek to Flat White and was amply rewarded with a fantastic brew and toasties. Isn't a tad ironic that this brew from Australia and New Zealand is taking over Londontown? It's excellent! See my cheese toasties today? They had been sliced sharp and thin!

It'll be time to leave soon. While I've stocked up on the coffee beans, flat white will never taste the same at home. It's been a fabulous time at these cafes. I like spending time alone, or with the friends. Each visit is a unique experience. They're all wonderful in different ways.

How To Defend Shite Food?

Do not ask me why I would have photos of a McD's burger and a strange colored dish of octopus in a Chinese restaurant. These are food placed on the table not by my choice. At least McD's is unpretentious about it. It's not too apologetic about its junk food. I rather have a McD's burger anyday in any city compared to bluff-tourist food. At least I know precisely the standard of a burger. How's that for a brand promise?

We were rushing about and post-theatre West End, there was nothing much to eat. Boo. So one time, it was fast food at McD's. Crap, but it's like, whatever, fine. My fish fillet didn't taste better than the ones at home. Same old same old. It's intriguing how McD's in NYC, LA, Sydney and Melbourne taste the best among all cities. Feel free to disagree.

I don't understand these eateries at Chinatown. It isn't just about their oily floors. It's about how unhygienic they are. I mean, we all know right? At some point in uni thereabouts, we had popped into London and ate at this notable one and got shouted at. I bloody hate eateries in Chinatown. The MSG-laden food is shite man. Never mind the other eateries at Bayswater, namely Queensway. I hate those with a vengeance.

The one visit to this Chinese place at Leicester Square at about 11.30pm annoyed the beeejezus out of me. They didn't do porridge. At least they had fishball noodles which I didn't take much because of the heavy tint of MSG in the soup. Then I saw lots of unhygienic acts involving the servers' hands while serving the customers' food and drinks. I haven't walked into a single sanitary eatery at Leicester Square. Thinking about their kitchens make my stomach churn. The place is gross, gross-er and gross-iest.

The table had to order this octopus thingy. I didn't know if it was preserved or marinated or whatever. It tasted alot like it had been soaked in red vinegar. Wah lau eh. YUCKS. I had a piece and spat it out. It was just, gross. To be fair, our table didn't finish it. OEH! WHOSE BRIGHT IDEA WAS IT TO ORDER THIS?

I haven't even started on the crap they serve at tourist traps, lousy pubs and useless sidewalk cafes. I couldn't help giggling at the article I read the other day written by Bryce Elder. So in defence of shite food, I don't think there's much to defend, even if you reject it. One eatery will close, and another will open. It's all about the economies of scale. Cheap food = cheap ingredients = bad eateries. People still pay to eat it.

Making Pretty At Fenwick

I like the quiet outlet of Fenwick on Bond Street. It's got a terribly limited cosmetics and bags section. But for the clothes, I prefer the designers housed here than at Selfridges. The latter is such a busy mall with all its designer boutiques plonked within that it can be a little frazzling to walk through. No doubt they'll carry similar lines, but I cannot be bothered with Selfridges. I like to browse at the main boutiques on and a little off Bond Street. Service is much better too.

Of course, if you want a comprehensive range of international designer labels, Harrods might be a better choice rather than the smaller malls. At Fenwick, I'm more inclined to stroll and shop, rather than do a hit and run. Or I can get out and walk along the streets to the other boutiques. It's especially conducive because cars can come into the streets without too much inconvenience. And I can just dump the shopping bags with the driver or have him pick me up when I'm done, without hitting the main Oxford Street.

I really like the powder room at Fenwick. It's so pretty, and squeaky clean. This probably explains why a trip to the powder room takes 15 minutes. Heeee. I haven't found any need to take a hand moisturizer each time I head out. All the washrooms I pop into anywhere have lovely soap and thick hand moisturizers. Good quality ones too. Say, Molton Brown and other English brands. Not the crappy eeky ones. They work for me. And don't forget to leave a pound by way of a tip for the attendant. She does a fabulous job.

The Cheese Toasties At Flat White

The coffee is the star of the joint. As long as they get my cup of flat white right, I'm a happy customer. If I can spare that 20 minutes on a hectic morning, I'll sit. Otherwise, I'll have to grab a to-go, which works just as well.

I do like to watch the going-ons in the cafe, to see the sorts of people who come in daily and pick their choice brew for the morning. After a while, I recognize the regulars and their favorite cuppa, as well as the faraway tourists who come in based on the map and online recommendations. There're too many annoying Starbucks in town. They've started to offer flat white on the menu. I don't think our Starbucks offer flat white just yet. So I've gamely tried one here. It's almost laughable. It's almost as bad as what I have at home! They should just stick to doing cappuccino dry.

I'm quite amused with the toasties at Flat White. Some days, they come in a slim sharp slices that are almost triangular. On others, they come in wider version that's almost double the size of the slim ones. It doesn't bother me. That's half the fun of not having a metal mould to shape your bread, and doing it manually. I suppose it has alot to do with the person slicing the sandwich. It doesn't exactly come in identical shapes and sizes. The taste differ from day to day, depending on the cheese used.

Life's a little bit like that, isn't it?

The Gate And Its Fabulous Food

I made time to go to The Gate. It's one of my all-time favorite restaurants in London- unpretentious hearty food at reasonable prices. Best of all, their menu speak to my heart and I really enjoy eating there.

Again, I don't know why there're such bad reviews about this eatery. Perhaps so, but my experiences have been positive. It was so last December and it's still good now. I asked the friends and they gave it the thumbs-up too. So gasp! We've no complaints about anything.

A deceptively simple dinner at The Gate can be shared by 4 persons who are small eaters. The restaurant puts together uniquely Asian and Mediterranean flavors in their menu. They've toned down the spicy chilli a little, but when I requested for the kitchen to tank up the chilli in my linguine at lunch, they merrily did so. It was fantastic.

With the friends at dinner, we shared all food. By the time we were done with the starter of a mezze platter, we were a tad full. Mains were tasty carbs. Oh yummy goodness. We shared the tortillas which came in 4 huge happy pieces. Each was a meal already! Then there was a pasta of penne tossed in onions, courgettes, peppers and not-so-spicy-chilli and topped with cheese.

The juices killed us all. We each had 2 glasses of juice. Mine was a fabulous thick combination of pear and raspberry. We were STUFFED. Clearly, we couldn't put in anything else for dessert. Not till we did some walking, and by then, we hit Soho and felt like a beer, rather than something sweet. An ale for half of us and a pint of Guinness for the rest rounded up the night rather satisfactorily.

Half My Xmas Shopping Is Done!

As far as Christmas crackers go, I don't like to buy them nor pull them unless the contents are interesting. There's no point wasting money to get cheesy whistles and corny party masks of poor quality, only to be thrown away at the end of the evening.

Still, crackers are Christmassy. And they're good gifts to get for Aunts and girlfriends who will be hosting Christmas dinners in UK, NYC, Vancouver and Singapore. I like the range of biscuits and puddings at some shops in London. Even if the retailer guarantees it, I'm iffy about mailing over glass, bone china and porcelain. But foodstuff and other non-perishable kitchenware are always do-able.

Fortnum & Mason stocks some amazing Christmas supplies. I love browsing in their stores. So I found my Christmas gift ideas for half of the list. In addition to the Christmas puddings, I'm sending loved ones festive crackers, kitchen towels, linen and tea cloths. Heeee.

I'm almost embarrassed to tell you that I spent 2 hours at the store picking out items for Christmas hampers and handing over the list of addresses for shipping purposes. That's the pure convenience of their Christmas services. It's a bit hard to do it when I'm in Singapore. I've done it via emails and all, but it's just more of a pleasure to be here in person to do so. There's something about the Christmassy vibe that makes me want to linger at drool over the displays.

Easy Moments At Lantana

Of course I'll stop by Lantana Cafe for coffee and food. I spent many happy moments there with a cup of flat white and a book or a magazine. Now, the cafe has 2 shops side by side. One for eating in, and the other for take-outs. How awesome.

At breakfast, I picked up a quarterly from Fire and Knives, and laughed my head off at its articles. There was an amazingly good article 'Food 24' by Seb Emina. It was all about Jack Bauer and his non-eating in all its seasons. As quoted from the article, "He will say 'Damn it' 118 times, but he will only eat one meal." I'm going to go home and do exactly what the author did- open up my Season 1 and check for the one and only scene where Jack Bauer eats. The other breakfast scene in Season 5 isn't counted because he doesn't eat.

I always like going in at the off-peak timings. It'll have plenty of people, but at least it won't be too crowded and I needn't feel guilty about occupying a space by the window for an hour. It's kinda simple to just read, sip a coffee and think about nothing in particular. I like this feeling. It's very different from how I felt in 2009 at this same spot where the mood was more than pensive. I like the current mood so much better.

A Spot Of Tea

Some of the girls like macarons. But they prefer the crunchier texture of Pierre Hermé. Since they're not too keen to go through all the trouble of baking macarons, they'll settle for the colorful blobs from Ladurée.

We're not big fans of the food at Ladurée. It's overpriced and while it doesn't suck, it's clear that the kitchen is inexperienced. My black truffle omelette was nearly swimming in olive oil. That should not be the case. But each time we meet, someone will invariably need to run errands, and that means, the Ladurée cafe at Harrods is the most convenient venue. So I've always had to sit at this cafe and have one bite of their food and desserts.

Their desserts are better than their food. Since I'm not big on desserts, I don't really care what is placed in front of me. They will never have apple-anything anyway. Scones and jam will usually be my choice. I'm quite happy to stick to piping hot tea. They serve a fairly decent brew of lapsang souchong. So that's alright.

I don't just see these girls once in a while. We're perpetually on the email and skype. And of course Twitter and through their blogs. I'm just damn happy to know that like me, they hate facebook. I've virtually no use for my fb account except when I want to spout propaganda. I've known them all my life, and we've kinda stuck together, quirks, tantrums, fights and all. They're a fun bunch to hang out with. Bitchy too. Muahahahaha. But somehow, we've kinda grown closer in spite of the differences. I like that.

Chez Bruce

I've always liked the choices of sparkling and still water in London. However, there's a marked increase in San Pellegrino dominating the lower-end eateries in Mayfair and Piccadilly Circus. Needless to say, I'm always thrilled if a restaurant stocks up on water from Speyside Glenlivet. I adore that crisp tinge in the water.

We went out to Chez Bruce for an easy meal. Between a 1-hour car ride and a 40-minute train ride to Wandsworth Common, we caved and took the car. We weren't about to brave the tube and the train at peak hour. I rather walk. The traffic jams aren't so terrible. I prefer to sit in the quiet comfort of a car where I won't be pissed off by annoying humans.

It's just, friggin' crowded shoving bad. You'll be squashed face to armpit, not unlike our trains at peak hours. It's suffocating. In winter, the cold makes it slightly better, not so stinky from leftover food spills and unknown stains. But in summer, those trains are like ovens man. One could just faint from heatstroke. The Underground and overland rail in Londontown are just unfriendly to young children, parents with strollers, the disabled and the elderly. I mean, you can get on it, but it'll be a harrowing experience.

Anyway, Chez Bruce was nice. See those breaded blobs below, with a dash of tartare sauce? They were the starters of calf's brains ordered by the man. On the same plate, there were pig trotters served on salad. He loved them and ate them up with much relish. I went "EIIIIIIIII"!

My starter was boring risotto bianco. But it wasn't plain. Very well done, as expected of any restaurant of this standard. We ordered much more 'normal' fare for the mains. Our mains came very prettily garnished. Plaice with Jerusalem artichoke puree and prosciutto. There was also a crisp fillet of seabass on olive oil mash, provencale brochettes and gremolata! The mains were thoroughly enjoyable.

There were dessert that came along with the 3-course meal. But I didn't fancy them. Overly sweet, as usual. The man's crostillant au chocolat was fine, but laden with sugar. The mango sorbet was almost like ice-cream and so so sweet. Quite eeky. It was quite a nasty surprise to find out on the first spoonful that it wasn't a light refreshing sorbet. The maître d' asked if there was anything wrong with my dessert. I said yes- it was too sweet and too creamy for a sorbet. He looked mortified. :p

I'll Miss Her When She Passes

We went out to Aunt E's for tea and wine. It is always a pleasure to chat with her. Her mind is still so sharp. I enjoy her wit and rather opinionated observations of UK's politics and social ills. The man likes to talk to her about the local council and also of the various members of the family. The man and her reminisced about the blitz torte that was his granny's specialty.

Aunt E still thinks that I should be able to cook, bake and sew. She wonders at how that could have been missed out from my education. I cheekily told her that's because they wanted me to acquire debutante skills so that a roomful of handmaidens might aid me do all these. I told her that I've somehow ended up with skills to change lightbulbs, mow the lawn and build her a chair.

Then she asked me what I would do if my daughter needs party frocks. Waah.....you should have been there to hear how deft I was at not answering that question and avoiding the topic. I don't have the heart to tell her that since a little girl, I've never wanted any little ones of my own and now, having children is not on the agenda.

It was a rather warm afternoon. (I can't believe that I think 9 degreesC is warm!) I usually have my tea black. But this afternoon, I decided to add some milk and drink it the way she does. I skipped the sugar though. She takes 2 spoonfuls of sugar! Too sweet! The milk sorta sweetened it already.

All too soon, it was time to leave. I was reluctant to say goodbye, because it could be forever, especially when I don't know when I will next visit. And I certainly hope it will not be for the purpose of attending her funeral.

Oysters At Breakfast

The man loves oysters, all sorts. Today at Borough Market, he went on an oyster rampage. He stopped by Richard Haward's oyster stall and slurped a dozen.

I'm not a fan of oysters. I was more conservative with my breakfast. I stuck to a panini and fish soup. It was 10.30am. My stomach wasn't awake! Then he dragged me off to the Wright Brothers Oyster and Porter House. He wanted an oyster pie. DOH. That stall is immensely popular on the weekends and you'll need reservations to get a table.

I was in the mood for alot of fruits. There were so many beautiful things. Since the Aunts were cooking this weekend, we would contribute fruits. So many colors. Absolutely cheerful. I bought a sackful of figs. I love 'em fresh or dried. 3 for a pound. How to say no?! Compared to what we pay at home weekly for fruits, the variety and prices available in London are just of a higher value.

Of course I had a coffee already. I made the mistake of grabbing it at Borough Market's outlet of Monmouth Coffee. Had to wait for like 15 minutes for my turn. The queue at this outlet on a Saturday is CRAZY. It snakes around the corner and spills onto the road. One would think that they're giving out freebies. The only upside to it, the queue moves fast. Then I also wanted fresh fruit juices. They're amazing. Cold-pressed. No additional sugar, of course. I drank so much of it! Like 3 cups. Yummy. I marvel at the abundance of freshly squeezed juice in this city.

The Completion Of A Task

There, my job as an intern to the Aunts for the week is done. They were really not shy and ordered me around with a pointed finger. Doh. Oh well. It was quite fun! I've been packing boxes and boxes of medical supplies and checking them against the inventory. There's the data entry and all the nitty gritty logistics. But I can't complain. I volunteered to 'help'. Heh. New things to learn and new skills acquired! So that's me fulfilling my part of the bargain. It's now playtime!

I love hanging out with my girlfriends and Aunts. They reinforce my beliefs, ideals and passions. They live it too. Except that when it comes to the commitment bit, they're way more steadfast than I can ever hope to be. If you think I'm weird, you should meet this bunch of women. They'll eat you alive.

And this is what I want a personal trip to be about. There must always be a point and a meaning to it. Even if I take a vacation to 'do nothing', I assure you, my idea of doing nothing, will still entail some screams, perspiration and blood.

I think I've built some muscles even without doing parkour. I saw people do it at the park. I wanted to join in and move the body! The weather is perfect and the space is brilliant! But there wasn't enough time to do so. BOO. Now, I really need to get to a spa pronto for a massage. Or a chiropractor. My bones are aching.

3 Bands To Charm My Socks Off

There were 3 bands rocking O2 Academy Islington tonight, each with their distinctive traits of alternative rock. The party started real early. I is a sucker- so bought band tees again! Some of the designs are quite nice! Headlining the gig was God Is An Astronaut. The Butterfly Explosion and Caspian opened for them. Squeaking squirrels! It was a fantabulous night.

I was drunk. Not on the pint of Guinness. Drunk on the music. This was a gig I was pretty excited about. After sizzling gigs by Russian Circles and Lunarin, I wasn't sure what else I would be lucky enough to watch that could top them. What do I know? There would be. 3 at that.

The Butterfly Explosion is just so sweet! Very good groove and some heavy sounds in there. Caspian, oh Caspian. Old love. I've always liked them. Heavily layered and tight, their live gigs are a joy to watch. Unexpectedly, we met quite fair number of friends too. Such happiness.

The girlfriends were most inspired by the sounds of God Is An Astronaut. It's the first time I've seen them live. They rocked that stage. The girlfriends asked, "When was the last time we danced together?" They didn't mean 'disco-dancing'. They meant 'real' street dancing, the sort where we see a sequence of movements once and all of us would get it right by the second try. I was like, eons ago man. Someone had the albums. They winked, "Tomorrow. Studio. Let's do it."

Listening to the songs by God Is An Astronaut, I could visualize those steps- the angst, the passion, the pain and the beauty of the lines. We used to dance so often, easily. I've missed that. Okay girls, why not?! I'm game. Bring it on.

Shoes!

It might be a little bit of an overkill, to bring 3 pairs of shoes to London when I already have more shoes here! But hey, shoes are never enough! 1 pretty pair of Carvela boots, the pair of rubber Timberland and the usual pair of Doc Marts for the gigs. When I got in, the Aunts passed me the sturdy pair of Uggs, Wellies and riding boots. All serving me very well in the crazy London weather. Did it stop me from checking out more shoes? Nope! I still looked at some, but I don't need any more shoes, so no buying unless I fall in love with something specific. That will come later if it happens.

But I've bought children's shoes for girls and boys! There're alot of choices here for comfy shoes for tots to run in. Plenty of people head to Mamas and Papas to stock up on exciting items for children. It was almost fun walking around in there. Colorful. But I didn't come away with any purchases.

I like Camper. It was so easy to pick out a couple of pairs for the girlfriends. They've got very pretty stuff for girls and boys. Their range of children's shoes is quite wide, much better than what we have in Singapore. Quirky too. The girlfriends will like.

Happy Bags

I'm not sure what I'm trying to do in this photo. It's too busy. Yes, the hair stylist has trimmed the bob short and sharp. I love it. But the point is to show you pretty paper bags! I love those colors! Such a happy thing to be shopping in those boutiques when they clearly carry many items which caught my eye.

On dreary rainy days, many fancy shops in town smoothed a plastic covering over their paper bags to protect the contents from getting wet. It does kinda defeat the purpose of using a paper bag. I've always have water resistant shopping bags in the purse and those can easily fit large paper bags from the labels. So I use those instead.

Yes, I'm given to occasional bouts of shopping, especially if they involve my favorite brands. Obviously, these 2 paper bags are a dead giveaway to their contents. I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I've received multiple paper bags from this jaunt to the 2 boutiques just so I could fit everything in. :p

Back At The V & A

As promised, the Aunts took me back to V & A Museum to view the featured exhibits that I missed out earlier in the week. They had been so busy with work and hadn't seen them either, and took the opportunity to do so.

At Shadow Catchers: Camera-less Photography, it was a tad weird to see this sort of art using techniques of photogram, luminogram, and chemigram, things that I know, but rarely bothered with seeing its end results and artistry. We had our notebooks in hand. Some film students were sketching. The guard said, "No sketching please!" That was a little strange. Sketching is allowed at most exhibitions and museums. A couple of us raised our eyebrows, but complied without protest.

I was very disoriented by Pierre Cordier and Gary Fabian Miller's prints. They made me dizzy. It's all very interesting I suppose, but I'm not sure I've the brain capacity to appreciate it. There was a piece I found striking- Susan Derges' 'Vessel No.3', which comprised of 9 images in this composition. She created photograms of toad spawn. The 9th image reflected an empty jar. I like. Maybe I just like toads.

At Diaghilev and the Golden Age of the Ballet Russes, I was absolutely fascinated. I've watched his ballets and enjoyed the music, exubuerance and choreography. I've read about the man, but to see his life curated in a museum is quite another thing. What a great summary of Diaghilev's life and works. You don't need to know ballet to know him. You'll know his associates who designed costumes for him- Coco Chanel, Yves Saint Laurent, Henri Matisse, Jean Cocteau and Pablo Picasso; you'll be familiar with his social circle of James Joyce, Marcel Proust and TS Eliot. Most of all, you'll have heard Prokofiev and Stravinsky's scores for Diaghilev's ballets.

Over a rather decent izakaya dinner at Zuma, we had a very intense discussion on the almost avant garde Ballet Russes and Stravinsky versus the traditional Bolshoi Ballet and their favored Tchaikovsky. This is something close to our hearts. Our family believes in schooling the girls in culture and the arts. Aside from the various art forms, across generations we received at least 10 years of training in ballet, and did summer stints at the Royal Ballet School. One wonders why none of us took up ballet professionally. Something to do with our fleshy figures I think. We don't have the dancer's lean physique. But the Aunts are slimmer than I. They're taller too. I IS JEALOUS.