Tại bãi biển

While we managed to take some evening walks by the beach to enjoy the quiet, of course we allocated two full mornings to chill out by it. The hotel has a little private stretch for guests. Deckchairs, towels, and all the usual amenities provided. Quiet enough. The Son Tra Peninsula is picturesque and it would really sad not to portion out time to admire it. That's the whole point of staying in this hotel. The convenience of a beach at our doorstep.

I like the feel of sun on the skin. For a short 30 minutes, under sunblock. Not to tan for hours. No wish to get burnt. The best way to get some vitamin D is to pull on a hat, wade in the water or squat around. Fun! Not swimming in the sea. Eeeks. Not unless I'm in a wetsuit with a dive mask and air tank. The man didn't mind plunging in for a bit. He misses the beach and the roaring surf. It's been a long time since our last beach vacation.

Didn't bother to take a book or the iPad to the beach. Simply wanted to enjoy the sound of the waves and nature. Stared at the horizon for the longest time. What a pleasure. Did loads of that all over the resort. Our villa holds a spacious balcony that is conducive to reading, periodically looking up to the sky and the horizon.

Went to terrorize marine life. Hadn't seen a beach this alive for eons. Most beaches in the world have been occupied by humans all day. Sea creatures only come out night. On this beach where no more than 20 humans tread each day, I treaded softly and saw plenty. Loads of bustle and colors going on.

Patiently waited for crabs to crawl out of their little holes. Only one did. Bah. But saw many tiny sand crabs scurrying around. Spent like 45 minutes stalking crabs. Spotted a bright purple crab. It was quite big. At least something big enough randomly spotted. Dunno what species it is. I only know it can't be eaten. :P Tiny clams were waving about. Placed them back into the water. Didn't want to think about whether they should be eaten. Stared at shells washed up whole and in broken bits, dead fish and garbage. Loads of sand dollars hanging around too. Love this business of chilling out.

Nhà hàng Madame Lân

Steamed crab in tamarind sauce.

Went to Madame Lân Restaurant for the man to overdose on seafood. It's a huge restaurant, but a venue that the locals go to, if they want proper seats instead of low stools by the roadside eateries. Something a little more formal, but doesn't offer air-conditioning. This time of the year, it's cool in the evenings.

The man loves crabs, but I watch his crab intake quite zealously. He can easily polish off a whole crab on his own any time. That's bad. LDL Cholesterol. Tsk. I make exceptions while on holiday. So this meal held the one and only crab he ate for the whole trip, and the second in the past three months. Hahahaha. Had to dissuade him from taking oyster porridge and grilled bloody cockles with garlic. He already has a minor upset stomach for two days from ingesting dunno-what. We ate the same food, but I've a cast-iron stomach. He doesn't.

Ordered so much food. Grilled squid, prawns and kangkong. Had a pan-fried cá dìa, which the menu translated into 'rabbitfish'. But I thought it looked more like a discus fish, unless it's an interchangeable term to mean both types. Erm...I thought they both belonged to saltwater aquariums... Anyway. Made the man eat a bowl of bún bò Huế because he didn't want rice. But he needed to line the stomach with some carbs. Rice vermicelli it was, with beef. He merrily slurped it up. He liked it.

Nothing at this restaurant was particularly outstanding. But there wasn't anything terrible either. It measured up fine overall- fresh seafood cooked well. All good. Seafood steamboat was also available, but perhaps another night. Stomachs were too stuffed. Needed a long walk by the river after just to burp. Heh. In time to see the Dragon Bridge lit, alive and breathing fire.

Bún bò Huế. The noodles are rounder than and perhaps thicker than phở.

Thuyền thúng

Saw those round boats parked on My Khe beach. Saw them bobbing merrily in the sea too, helmed by experienced fishermen who weren't heading out too far. Woven bamboo basket boats. Thuyền thúng. They're just tubs and look so fragile! I was determined to hop into one and try my luck to see how far I could bob without capsizing. One basket boat holds two to three persons. Luckily our hotel owns a few and its stretch of water didn't seem so choppy. The hotel staff would usually paddle you out for like five minutes along the shoreline, but if you're like me, crazy woman, then feel free to ask them to let you go on your own.

Pulled on a lifejacket and climbed into the boat. Grabbed the oar and started to paddle out. The staff gingerly asked, "Are you sure you Okay?" I was certain it would be manageable. The balancing might be off though. But the sea seemed calm enough that morning. The staff who were familiar with the currents and tides said that the morning was fine in this sunshine and clear skies, but not the afternoon when the rainclouds and tide roll in. No danger of being adrift in the Bay and out to South China Sea.

It was SO FUN. Hahahaha. I was terrible at it, but I didn't topple over. The trick is not to stand up in the middle. Stick to a corner of a round tub. Hurhurhurhur. Yes, that's possible. *cackles* For a namby-pamby city girl, that's quite achievement. Was expecting it to turn round and round, but it kinda kept its direction quite easily. Although, the tub isn't water-proof. UGH. Didn't realize that! Had to bail water out! Duhhh. Had to do it quickly and keep an eye on where the currents were taking me in that few minutes of non-paddling.

Keeping The Muscles Oiled

Gorgeous daily views from the balcony.

At home, stretches are done daily; three times a week, I turn up at classes to use the machines. On vacation, I like doing stretches first thing in the morning. It isn't a chore for me. It's a happy thing to condition the muscles. Don't want to lose all the strength and flexibility acquired through the decades, starting from gymnastics at four years old. Sure, I can't do every routine now. But as I age, I want to retain the incredible core strength built and keep as much flexibility as possible.

I didn't attempt parkour at the resort. The waves crashing among the rocks kinda warned me not to try it. Cartwheeling and back-flipping across an empty beach on the sand early morning was ridiculously fun. Was in stitches after that. Breathless laughter. Heh. Been doing stretches on the balcony of the hotel room. It was spacious enough. Our little villa was right at the very edge of the property facing out to the sea. It was really awesome to hear the waves rhythmically crash.

One morning we got up at 6am and went to the gym. I'm not a gym-rat like the man. But I tagged along to check it out. Didn't even know the man sneaked a few photos before he got bored and went off to do his weights. The one thing I don't know what to do with is that exercise ball. I rarely use it. Sure, it stretches the muscles in another way but it also hinders movement. Back bends, flips and rolls, and the ball just kept bouncing ever so slightly, throwing me off. Forgot about the walking shoes. It's a pair used for serious walking, not running and definitely not for other purposes. First time using them in a gym. Those soles were so thick and affected my balance! Too used to bare feet or thin Vibrams. Oof.

Mì Quảng

Since mì Quảng originated from Quảng Nam province right here, all the more we ought to taste a few versions of the rice noodles tinted yellow with turmeric. Udon-like, but thinner. Almost like a thick kway teow. Eating the noodles at the eateries in other Vietnamese cities or good eateries outside of Vietnam doesn't count. I already know that the tastebuds prefer this any day over phở. I'd love to know how the locals cook it and set out to eat a couple of versions.

The meat can be either shrimp, pork, chicken, beef or fish. Versatile. The broth is usually boiled from a mix of pork and chicken bones and dried shrimp. That broth is just poured in 2cm thick at the bottom, enough to moisten the noodles and that's all. It's not meant to be soup, although towns in southern Vietnam tend to prefer the noodles to sit in more soup. There's a local couplet about this mì Quảng. Something about a girl inviting her lover to a cup of green tea and making him a bowl of noodles. Don't look at me. As much as I love this dish, I'm not inspired to make it yet.

Thương nhau múc bát chè xanh, Làm tô mì Quảng anh xơi cho cùng.

There're many little stalls offering different versions, with the most common being pork, then chicken. This is Central Vietnam, so often, the broth is minimal, as opposed to what the South prefers. This is definitely my favorite type of Vietnamese rice noodles. Love all the toasted peanuts, rice crackers and greens. And THOSE GREEN CHILLIES. It's a big satisfying spicy chilli that I like just biting like that with every slurp of noodles. I usually leave the meat aside, opting to finish the noodles to the last strand. But at seafood eateries in the Son Tra District, especially those along My Khe Beach (yes, of that 'China Beach' 80s soap), mì Quảng topped with fish or big prawns are easily done if you ask for it. Or just shrimp and pork as the usual mì Quảng tôm thịt trứng is great too.

There's a version with eel- mì quảng lươn. I'm not a fan of sea or river eels because of those weird tiny bones I can't get over. So didn't try that. If I can avoid pork, I will. My favorite is the fish- mì Quảng cá lóc. It's apparently a specialty from Gia An commune in the Tánh Linh district of Bình Thuận Province, close to Ho Chi Minh City. Of course the fish used is the snakehead. IF I ever re-create this, I'll experiment with a broth of daikon and mushrooms, and other types of fish. Maybe the kurau or ikan parang. Or even monkfish. We'll see. Where can I get fresh Quảng noodles in Singapore?

mì Quảng cá lóc.

Mỹ Sơn

Went to the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Mỹ Sơn to see the atmospheric ruins of the spiritual centre of the ancient Chăm Empire. The one thing I really wanted to do on this trip. This completes my list of visiting Borobudur in Java, Angkor Wat and Angkor Thom in Siem Reap, Bagan (or Pagan) in Mandalay, and Ayutthaya off Bangkok.

Requested for an experienced guide because I didn't want the usual spiel, and he should be able to summarize key points without me gleaning it online faster than he could speak. Stopped by the Museum of Chăm Sculpture and the village of Trà Kiệu. The village used to be Singhapura (City of the Lion). Tickled by the name. Well, nothing remains of the old city. It's just another modern agrarian village now.

Nobody mentioned anything about the persecution of what's left of the Chăm who are recognized as minorities and marginalized since the fifteenth century. It isn't different from what the Khmer Rouge did in Cambodia. Apparently, property confiscation and incursions of the Chăm in Vietnam occurred as recent as in the past three years. We didn't mention anything about that either. Or the recent exodus of refugees to Australia, or the imprisonment and release of political blogger Ngyuen Van Hai. This is research that we quietly do. This isn't our country and I still don't know my country's position on civil society and politics, although, the idea of religious freedom here seems stilted. No matter what, these aren't topics to be openly discussed with the Vietnamese hosts who aren't our friends.

There were originally about 70 temples and towers built on the site from the 4th to the 15th century. But now, only 20 or so damaged structures remain. After so many wars, the historical site of Mỹ Sơn is mainly left in ruins. Already weakened by age, the ancient structures completely crumbled during the Vietnam War. Although international conservation efforts and funding are underway, again, to stabilize what's left, this is an impoverished region that has to consider threats of flooding as well as increased tourism. The structures held a haphazard format of old and new bricks. They stand, but the colors look strange. Trying to prevent the structures from collapsing is an uphill struggle. Forest growth lines the numerous bomb craters in the area. Do not wander off marked trails. There is a real possibility of stepping on unexploded land mines still hidden.

For quiet tranquility seen today in the site's rich history, the headless statues remind us of the implacable and inevitable cruel hands of fate and wars waged. Ideals, religions, politics, and winds of change whisper the rise and fall of regimes through the years, leaving the one ruler or government known to us at any one point of history. We can't change the past, but we could certainly try to shape the present and the future.

Morning Market At the Beach

To the far left, the huge white 67m-tall statue of the Goddess of Mercy
(Quan Am or Kuan Yin) stands in the Linh Ứng Bãi Bụt Pagoda,
keeping the people safe from storms and sea creatures.

I love beaches and being in the water. Not to swim in it though. Just to wade around. Dislike swimming in the open sea unless I'm in full dive gear. Đà Nẵng's beaches are still relatively unspoiled. They're also working beaches in the sense that fishing boats are still anchored out and go to work between 10pm to 4am, returning to shore in time with fresh catches for the morning boisterous seafood market. The public beaches are clean. Refuse washed up doesn't look too horrifying. Unlike Hội An's battle with coastal erosion, especially on Cua Dai Beach, Đà Nẵng is still okay. Non Nước Beach is home to many expansive resorts.

Further along to Son Tra Peninsula is My Khe beach (or otherwise known as 'China Beach') has a wide expanse of space and a few deck chairs for people to hang out. Seafood restaurants still mainly cater to the locals. Outside of these resorts, unlike Thailand, there're no souvenir or tourist traps nearby. WOOT. You can't like...walk out to lunch or something. There's nothing near outside of the resort. Everything is a 20-minute walk either way filled with roads and not particularly interesting sights. Unless you count the shoreline and beaches as a welcome sight. No massage parlors dot the roads, save for one or two for the locals which don't resemble the ambience or smells of a typical spa. Any decent spas are found within the resorts or a 45-minute ride to Hội An. Đà Nẵng is gloriously uncrowded for the now. However, the entire stretch of shoreline here is ear-marked for the development of five-star resorts and two more golf courses. This area has changed so much and in another five years, it would be more...touristy.

I didn't linger at the public beaches except to take a walk through and turn up at first light one morning to smell the fish and check out the informal seafood market. Didn't understand a single word of the bargaining that went on. Didn't dare to snap photos at will. Couldn't buy anything, but at least my companions and guides could. They were on their daily sourcing and buying tasks for eateries and restaurants. But it was a good walk. There's something magical about early mornings. Totally enjoyed checking out the buzz.

Cool Rains

As Vietnam moves into a mild winter, Đà Nẵng usually rains everyday in October and November. Totally prepared for it. The locals call this 'high foreign tourist season'. Makes no sense. It's their 'low tourist season' in hot hot summer that makes a much better experience for most visitors.

Our scheduled activities have been matching the weather. Won't melt although the monsoon rains are heavy and not suited for trekking either. We're cool with walking in the rain. No biggie. No diving or snorkeling. Seas are too rough. I knew that it would rain mostly, and didn't bother to bring a bikini even. Hahaha. What sun. None. That's okay. Popping out to see the Chàm Islands (Cù lao Chàm) on a cloudy day was enough. As it is, limited tourist boats are allowed out to the islands during October to mid-December.

On rainy days, we stayed in at the resort. Time to enjoy its full facilities. The Intercontinental Hotel Danang Sun Peninsula is beautiful. It's perched atop a cliff in the Son Tra Peninsula. It's got such a glorious view that it would be a waste not to stay in to admire it. A total joy to hang out in the room or chill out at one of their many daybeds in quiet corners. Don't even need air-conditioning all the time because a cool breeze usually wafts through and rises into a strong wind in the nights.

We've got unlimited data on our phones, plenty of gadgets, steady WiFi throughout the resort. e-books and hardcopy magazines. All sorted. The man caught up on 'Agents of Shield' S2 and I happily lapped up 'Supernatural' S10. S10! Muahahahaha. Oddly, we haven't had any issues accessing social media channels. They load fast. Vietnam has announced so loud that it blocks everything that it deems unsavory. Had prepped and paid for VPN on the gadgets, but there hasn't been a need to turn it on. Strange. Hmmm.

Đà Nẵng City

Very pleased that we chose to stay in Đà Nẵng instead of Hội An. Not very fond of Hội An with all its touristy vibes. Đà Nẵng feels more residential, with its shops and businesses for locals.  If you're not interested in urbanscapes, the individual pulse of a city or just hanging out in a new place without needing to do anything, then Đà Nẵng isn't for you. I've heard fellow tourists complain that there's nothing to do in Đà Nẵng and more to see and do in Hội An. Well, it depends on what type of visitors you are. It's tough to find souvenir or tailor shops in Đà Nẵng. Thank gawwd. If you want those things, go to the tourist trap that is Hội An Ancient Town. Plenty of that.

The town is split into this side of the Hàn River and the other. One that's nearer to the airport is the business side of town containing a soon-to-open California Fitness gym, a fake Apple Cafe with copied-identical logo and all, a KFC outlet and many offices. The side we visited is more residential. Lots of local shops that the residents frequent. Selling brooms, pots and pans, furniture, mirrors, plastic homeware stuff, jewelry shops, etc. Đà Nẵng City is very much for people on work trips and domestic tourists, completely different from the chaos and noise in Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City where tourists can wander around easily on their own. Taxis aren't plentiful here. It's a 30-minute drive into town from the corner of Son Tra Peninsula where our resort is. Took a private car on full-day disposal. Anyway, we hold local data-SIM cards. 3G works great. Unlimited data. All sorted.

First thing we did was to stop by the morning market. Which is also a night market, depending on whether the stall keepers finish selling their wares. It isn't like a designated market. The stalls pop up where there's space on the pavement near a major intersection. Heh. Lots of fruits and vegetables dotting the streets. People squatting down to chat or play a few rounds of chess. Was very happy to stroll along the streets soaking up the vibes of Đà Nẵng so vastly different from Vietnam's two other bigger and more crowded cities. I walk very fast, but what a pity I can't cycle, otherwise I could cover even greater distances.

One aim of this jaunt- to buy fish sauce. Heeeeee. Good Thai fish sauce can be found rather easily at the supermarket at Golden Mile Centre. But one can't quite get good nước mắm in Singapore. Whatever I can find in Đà Nẵng will be good enough. The driver was rather amused. I guess fewer people come here to buy fish sauce than to tailor clothes and buy trinkets.

Saw packs of dried Quảng noodles and seriously thought about buying it. LOVE mì Quảng. Almost tempted to re-create it at home. The man doesn't like it enough to cook it. He's a phở person. So if I want to eat it, I'll have to cook it. HORRORS. It'd be easy grabbing ingredients, even those mint leaves. Am sure someone grows it in the garden, or the Thai supermarket sells it. But rice noodles are best fresh. That's an item I can't buy in Singapore. Although I'll be damned if I try to pound it out from rice flour. o.O

Hội An is Bánh Mì Heaven

Tiệm Phương Bánh Mì's
'bánh mì ốp la'
or 'bánh mì deluxe'. 

There're many odes to this tasty, filling and kinda-healthy Vietnamese 'sandwich', a recent one being BBC's rave about it. Bánh mì is always welcome at lunch. Love the bread. It's pretty light. It fills me up on not-too-hungry-days, and on others, leave me plenty of space to gobble up more food.

The man loves the meat versions, bánh mì thịt, which are mainly pork in all types- ham, paté or terrine, floss, sausage or char siew. Most bánh mì cost under VND25,000 (~S$1.50). A super-happy meal. There's grilled chicken available. But there're always vegetarian versions for me, bánh mì chay, with the option of adding an omelette.

The man marked out all stalls in Hội An that have been reviewed online and dragged me around eating many loaves of fantastic bread. Oddly, these two are good- Tiệm Phương Bánh Mì at its new premises 2B Phan Chau Trinh Street, earlier made famous by Anthony Bourdain and his 'No Reservations' in 2009, and the other locally known favorite, Madam Khánh of The Bánh Mì Queen at Tran Cao Van Street, thankfully sited outside of Ancient Town. That's not to say these are the best, but even the locals eat there, so it's cool.

Madam Khánh presiding over her modest stall under the avocado tree.
Her husband helped out with the ingredients and frying of the omelette. 

One could put anything inside the baguette and call it bánh mì. It's up to you. One just needs to find a damn good tiny baguette to make it. Finding that bread alone will take forever. Even the dressing is entirely decided by the individual stalls- cheese, mayonnaise, peppers, tomatoes, cucumbers, cilantro, pickled carrots, daikon. Whatever, really. Thousands of interpretations out there which are just as delicious. But this is the home of bánh mì, and I'll take their version as authentic.

We very much prefer the flavors in Madam Khánh's loaves. There's something about her choice of sauces and all. Apparently she's 90 years old, and still personally tends to her stall every day. Wow. The family lives in the shophouse, and opened up the front space for additional tables. Bánh mì is best eaten on-the-spot. It's no good soggy. It's tiny enough to be eaten quickly anyway. Merrily plonked ourselves outdoors at the table right next to the preparation counter. Wanted to watch what went on.

Forgot to remind the man I wanted plain black iced coffee. He likes cà phê sữa đá and ordered one for me too. Eeeeks. Too sweet! Luckily they served up green tea as chasers. The cold tea went well on a blazing hot day with the food. The man had the everything-in-it version- bánh mì thịt nguội. He totally LOVED IT. Almost ordered a second to chomp on. Two fantastic bánh mì, two strong good coffees and two teas- all for VND80,000 (~S$5). Prices we'll never see elsewhere. The baguette is crisp on the outside and all soft within. In Vietnam where pork rules, I've eaten many vegetarian loaves as main meals. Ate some other versions in other cities too. Most are mediocre. Few are good, and so far, I love Madam Khánh's best.

Madam Khánh, The Bánh Mì Queen
115 Tran Cao Van Street,
065 Hội An, Quảng Nam, Vietnam

Reaching Out Teahouse

The only shop where I was remotely curious about in Hội An is Reaching Out Teahouse. Not that this is a trip to seek out tea. Even in Đà Lạt, I enjoyed the sights and sounds and scenery more than anything. Each time I think about tea, a kind of resentment arises. Coffee keeps me happier. I've been drinking tons of Vietnamese coffee, as much as my body can bear. It's so good. But this teahouse is of interest to me. Reaching Out is also a social enterprise stocked with a whole range of local handicrafts.

Rustic and sincere, the vibes feel gorgeous. It's a respite from the busy streets, heat or rain. There're a number of plain A4-sized posters of words hung up on the wall, written in calligraphy, "The beauty of silence". Most of the staff are hearing-impaired and the table is filled with little wooden cubes requesting for service. It's great because it makes me not want to talk while sipping tea or coffee, simply enjoying the present. The entire Teahouse is then kept in a pleasant quiet hum, instead of jarring conversation and hysterical laughter. Love it.

I took a tea-tasting set of three teas- green, oolong and jasmine. Locally grown of course. IMHO, the oolong is Reaching Out Teahouse's best offering, from an estate in Lâm Đồng province, if I'm not wrong. What I tasted didn't hold the familiar notes of an oolong from northern Việt Bắc nearer to Hanoi. Vietnamese oolongs are grown from Taiwanese cultivars and produced in the like of an Alishan (阿里山) oolong or Dong Ding (凍頂烏龍), lightly roasted. It's not quite the quality of a top grade Wenshan Pouchong (文山包種) though. These Vietnamese oolongs are superior to their quality of green.

Oh, this Teahouse served great local coffee too. In tasting sets as well. Awesome. I was only interested in a few sips of the tea. As usual, the brewing methods ensured that the second cup of tea tasted over-steeped. Swopped out to the coffee tasting set after that. The man didn't want a tasting set and was very pleased with his iced 'Sweet Chicory Local Coffee'. The Teahouse was spot-on with using frozen ice-cubes of coffee and not water. It kept the coffee thick, gorgeous and cold on this hot day throughout the 45 minutes we hung out at this oasis.

Hãy uống cà phê

Apparently two girlfriends and I have a date in Đà Nẵng next year. Or Hà Nội. As long as it's in Vietnam. Let's see if this trip materializes. Some crazy scheduling and flying would have to be done to make it happen.

In the meantime, I've found plenty of scenic coffee spots. While the girls would love the coffee at Reaching Out Teahouse in Hội An, I think they also appreciate casual spots. Some of the best coffee spots have honestly been found at the side of the roads. While I like my coffee black and piping hot as cà phê đen, on many afternoons, I don't mind it cold as cà phê đen đá. Pure aroma, taste and gorgeousness.

Here's one coffee spot in Hội An outside the eeky Ancient Town- Đào Coffee. I don't think they use Lao PDR's Dao-Heuang beans. Probably a local variation that I've no idea what it is. It was good. Perfect on a rainy afternoon. Zipped into this family 'cafe' while it stormed. The balcony was the place of business and the family lived in the house. Owned by a hardworking young girl who spoke some English and took our order, and a grandfather who showed me to the balcony and nicely pulled out my chair.

Can't wait to have coffee with you girls, and since one speaks proper Vietnamese, I bet we'll see even more of this little town.

Đào Coffee
110 Phan Chu Trinh, Cẩm Phô, 
Hội An, Quảng Nam, Vietnam

cơm gà Hội An

Remember Bui Cong Khanh's 'Chicken Rice in the Border' at 'Sensorium 360°'? Went to Food for Thought at 8Q SAM to try the inspired dish. Was a bit worried because I find the food at three outlets of this eatery rather terrible. It was disappointing to realize that the eatery didn't serve the chicken rice as earlier indicated, but instead offered a version as 'Hoi An Borderlands Chicken Salad', and coffee of 'Ca Phe Latte in the Border'. Ordered both.

Food for Thought's 'Hoi An Borderlands Chicken Salad', at S$14, was surprisingly decent. It was chockful of ingredients. Wonderful! It wasn't a sad limp mess. Poked a tiny piece of shredded chicken breast meat and left the rest for the friends. Heee. Me and chicken aren't compatible. But I loved the spices in the salad dressing and the mixture of greens.

With the closing of 'Sensorium 360°' on 22 October 2014,
Food for Thought 8Q SAM's Vietnamese dishes are now off the menu .

Obviously I'm not a fan of Singapore Hainanese chicken rice. The man is. But we agree that the local version is fairly two-dimensional and we focus more on the rice than the meat. It's easier to get the meat right than find a balance for the rice. A less oily version of the rice is always better.

In Hội An, we can't miss out on the authentic versions of cơm gà. Restaurants offer it, and plenty of street stalls do a fantastic version. Never mind the chicken. I'm curious about the rice and wouldn't mind understanding the flavors. Oddly, I've never eaten this dish in all my visits to Vietnam. Here, get out of Ancient Town, avoid the fancy eateries, find the street stalls, pick one and order it. Ate this four times at different stalls. Gave all the chicken to the man.

For me, I love this version of chicken rice over Singapore's local versions. Simply because cơm gà Hội An uses so many spices, and has a variety of dipping sauces at the side. Importantly, once there's fish sauce, slivers of young papaya and carrot, onions, mint and lime juice, the entire flavor of the dish is altered. The combination of flavors is something I really like. The shredded meat (kampong chicken usually, of course) is thin and sometimes chewy. The meat isn't the star, so there're few pieces of it, and that's why I like it. Less stinky. The turmeric-stained short-grain rice is the winner for me, along with nước mắm. It has to be nước mắm; Thai naam plaa won't taste the same.

Cao lầu Hội An

Oddly, I'm not fond of the other specialty noodle dish specific to Hội An- Cao lầu. The noodles are made from stone-ground local rice. Kinda thick. Bit like a cross between thick laksa beehoon and udon. I don't mind the noodles at all. Love its texture which is slightly chewy and how the flavors go from sour to sweet.

The locals say that best comes from the street stalls and use water from the city's ancient square wells, and ash from the firewood of Cham Islands. Lye water, really. Caustic alkaline water. Okaayy. I appreciate the difficult steps to produce a bowl of broth and to make the noodles, but not the final flavors that are heavy on the meat which is either pork loin or trotters.

Unfortunately, eating cao lầu at its place of origin didn't make me like it one iota better. Good noodles, but one needs to like pork to think this dish edible in its entirety. Luckily, most eateries serve more than cao lầu. Unless one is squatting by the roadside stall that specializes only in this one item. Gamely tried three bowls from different stalls, taking only the noodles and picking out the meat to leave it in a clean bowl for stall-owners to collect. The man had no interest in eating them. Tried the supposedly famous one at the corner on the street. I can't get over the char siu, pork crackling and lard used. So this dish isn't for me.

Hội An Ancient Town

I really don't like you very much, Hội An Ancient Town. Made up of a few narrow streets, the only vaguely interesting aspect is its architecture, which isn't that fascinating if you live in Asia and are familiar with Chinese buildings, and have visited small provinces and villages in China.

Majority of these buildings in Ancient Town have been turned into gaudy and insipid shops selling useless souvenirs, silver, pearls, trinkets, shoes, clothes and nonsense. The eateries aren't good either. A complete tourist trap. Get out of the area and go to the other parts of the city. It'd definitely be a much better experience.

Its newly established ticketing system imposes a VND120,000 entrance ticket just to enter the Ancient Town. (Details here and here.) Setting up an entrance fee is expected, but enforcing it is dicey. A ticket allows for multiple entry over a few days- exactly for how many days, that's arbitrary. It changes according to the mood of city authorities. Even setting up ticket booths and security officers to check, and allowing domestic tourists to pay a lower VND80,000 are normal procedures. What isn't pleasant, is to discover that the checkpoints aren't manned during rainy days and even stumble upong two entry points to the demarcated area that aren't policed. Importantly, one can only hope the fees collected truly contribute towards the preservation of the Town.

Hội An was known as Faifoo or Faifo. It's a Southeast Asian trading port that flourished from the 15th to 19th century. Sounds familiar eh? Before that, during the Cham Kingdom, it was the region's largest harbor. Chinese influences are huge because of Vietnam's tributary state back then, and its acceptance of refugees from the Ming Dynasty in the 1640s. Hội An's Chinese influence is mainly Hokkien, which explains why it especially reminds me of Xiamen (known as Amoy) in Fujian Province. Its Trieu Chau Assembly Hall translates into the Chaozhou Hall. There're also two other Assembly Halls from two other dialect groups- Quang Trieu (Cantonese) and Phuc Kien (Fukien/Fujian). Definitely felt like I was visiting provinces in southern China.

The 150-year old Quan Thang Ancient House seems to be still lived in by the present-day generation of the family. The matriarch sat by the house selling cigarettes and drinks, and the patriarch hung out indoors offering visitors to buy little souvenirs within and showed us his Singapore two-dollar note. These families/houses collected the coupons from the entrance ticket, which hopefully translates into reimbursements for them since they've opened their family homes to visitors. Same goes for Duc An Old House, which is more spacious and holds even better preserved furniture. It's an example of Hội An-style merchant architecture, which eerily holds the exact layout of a shophouse anywhere in Southeast Asia, especially a Peranakan-style house. Wood carvings and tile decorations include the usual peacocks and flowers.

Needless to say, after watching videos and flipping through photos of Huế, I decided it isn't worth the drive all the way. Bach Ma National Park will have to wait. Really not interested in the Nguyễn Dynasty that lasted from 1802 - 1945. Not even keen on it as the supposed origins of the áo dài. Don't feel like seeing more pagodas, temples, war sites or tunnels. Saw the photos and videos of the Huế Citadel, couldn't stop grinning. Tell me this Citadel and its surrounding buildings don't look familiar? Importantly, while I enjoy the region's spicy foods, I don't like bún bò Huế. Heeeeee. I'd do better re-visiting the highlands of Lâm Đồng Province, flying in via Đà Lạt. That city has little pork, more vegetarian food options and fantastic bánh căn with quail eggs.

Bia

Hello beer with ice cubes, we meet again.

Super tickled at how the Vietnamese still drink beer with ice cubes. Luckily the eateries don't immediately pour the beer into glasses filled with ice cubes. Those are added later. There's time to stop them before they dilute the beer. Vietnamese beers are mainly pilsner and lager, so ice cubes tend to make them taste better, like a spritzer. Those honestly aren't my choice of beer, but Da Nang's own Biere Larue is fine. Saigon Export is okay too. Just avoid Sabeco Brewery's 333 and Bia Saigon. Try them at your own peril. Kept seeing the locals' tables piled heavy with bottles of Heineken and Tiger. Ours are usually stacked with Biere Larue and Saigon Export or Special.

Giggled when I read that Vietnam wanted to have beer parlors control their temperature below 30ºC. Most of Vietnam is not air-conditioned. Most cans or bottles are stored in the fridge anyway, so they would taste cold down the throat for at least five minutes. As long as my beer is served cold, I don't particularly care that I'm squatting by the roadside chugging a pint. Best thing on a blazing hot day. It's almost thirst-quenching.

Oddly, more than two servers at different eateries on separate days, have remarked to me, "You drink wine like water" and "You drink beer like water". WELL, I don't see that as a problem. Vietnam's beers holds only about 4.2% ABV.

La Maison 1888

Pan-fried lobster medallions 
with white port sauce and ginger flavored vegetable julienne.

Eating local food is best when visiting other cities on vacation. My palate is spoilt and loves all sorts of cuisines. It doesn't need anything too familiar or comforting. Sambal with food is always nice, but when that can't be obtained, chillis or peppers will do. Along the same reasoning, there's no need to have western food in Vietnam. However, I conceded to one western meal at a fancy restaurant in Đà Nẵng because the man was curious. Michel Roux's La Maison 1888, his first restaurant in Asia, beautifully situated at the ridiculously scenic and chic Intercontinental Hotel Danang Sun Peninsula Resort.

I hesitated partly because of its three-starred Michelin chef-owner who is regularly in-residence for now- don't quite buy into the Michelin-stars-hype; also mainly because it's French cuisine of which I'm not a fan. Ah yes, I'm one of those who isn't hot about The Fat Duck or its neighbor and kinda sister restaurant to La Maison 1888, The Waterside Inn. Be warned, dress code at La Maison 1888 is formal. Ladies could wear dressy sandals, and men could get away without a tie or a jacket. Just look very good. You know how to push the envelope. This is a resort where ladies seem to be fond of carrying huge Birkins as beach bags.

Service at La Maison 1888 was excellent. Pleased that there was a decent selection of whisky offered. Loved its bread and butter. Happy to see rice noodles included in this Asia flagship in the form of pan-fried red mullet on a bed of rice noodles with vegetable tian and basil emulsion. I chose the safest dish which is also on the UK menu- tronçonnettes de homard poêlées minute au porto blanc. Quite delicious. The man totally enjoyed his grilled rabbit fillets served on a bed of celeriac fondant with glazed chestnuts and Armagnac sauce. Tasty and well-balanced flavors in our dishes, but I found everything a wee thick on the butter, oil and cream. The side of seasonal vegetables appeared in the form of really decent mushrooms, laden in a pool of butter. Offered to share something sugary with the man, but he declined. All right then, a savory dessert it was. Took its cheese platter and quaffed all five tiny slices of happiness.

This restaurant, is unfortunately one of those that prescribes printing two versions of their menus, and handing separate versions to male and female diners. Guess which gender's menu isn't printed with prices. (Oh, the drinks menu held prices though. At least. I could drink my date's pockets dry.) It wasn't like this was a specially-created menu with prices set beforehand. You should have seen my look of perplexity when I couldn't find the stated prices, and in five seconds, how far my eyes rolled out of the door when I realized why. It isn't surprising that this restaurant practices it. It's soooo 2004. Since I was clueless about prices and after flipping the menu, deemed it unnecessary to know, my handsome and gentlemanly dinner date paid for the evening.

Xin Chào Đà Nẵng

Hàn River Bridge or Cầu Sông Hàn.

It's been four years since I stepped into Vietnam. Yup, one of those last minute decisions again. A quick getaway to Đà Nẵng (loosely translated to refer to the opening of a large river) and Hội An (referring to a 'peaceful meeting place) because the man has finally got a breather in the hectic work calendar. There's also time to pop up to Lâm Đồng Province to look at tea and coffee plantations and all that.

My command of Vietnamese, has sadly, plateau-ed at ordering food, asking for chilli, drinking games, understanding prices, checking the time and dates, bargaining and the sorts. Hahahaha. It's nowhere near fluent. When I quit the Office and stopped being a full-time corporate minion, there isn't much of a point continuing with the study of the language. Vietnamese is one language I could easily acquire, but not quite feeling it. I haven't spoken more than a few sentences beyond cursory convos about the food and weather.

I normally don't care about bridges. But since there're two bridges that we keep crossing on jaunts to the city and towns beyond, one has to notice them. They're big bridges which are the architectural pride of Đà Nẵng, so they ought to be mentioned. One is the new Dragon Bridge or Cầu Rồng over Hàn River. Opened on 29 March 2013, the bridge commemorates the 38th anniversary of the North Vietnamese victory of Đà Nẵng and the end of the Vietnam War. The city is to its west, and the beaches are to its east. The other parallel bridge is the Han River Bridge or Cầu Sông Hàn, one of the first swing bridges built in Vietnam. There's one more Thuận Phước Bridge which is the longest suspension bridge in Vietnam, crossing the lower Hàn River.

Nice to play tourist, even if this is the rainy season. It kinda rains daily, but there're spurts of bright sunshine too. In the day, it averages 27°C with sun, and in the rain, 24°C. Rain away, we're prepared.

Dragon Bridge or Cầu Rồng, modeled after a symbol of the ancient Ly Dynasty.
On weekends at 9pm, it breathes fire, smoke and water from the mouth.

Outbound, Vietnam

Realized that the arrival card given out at the SilkAir boarding gate was for Cambodia. This flight would stop in Đà Nẵng first, then Siem Reap. My destination is Đà Nẵng. I didn't recall Vietnam requiring an arrival/departure card. Or rather that requirement existed but it was scrapped. Visas for certain lengths of stay or passports from a number of countries are still necessary to sort out though. I hadn't visited in years, so I went to ask the ground staff if Vietnam required an arrival card.

The staff said he didn't know and declined the Cambodian arrival card and health declaration forms and all when I tried to return them. He said, "Maybe the Vietnam immigrations would need them." LOL. No way lor. Tried very hard to stifle my giggles. I wasn't mean okay! Beyond "Oh thanks", I didn't say another word. Once onboard, I asked the cabin crew about it. They knew, of course. Nope. An arrival/departure card is not needed for Vietnam. Hurrah.

Short bumpy flight. Rain clouds aplenty. Tiny plane. Only a third filled. So I sprawled out across three seats and went to sleep. Didn't bother about food or drinks. Was well fed and hydrated before going to the airport. When I woke, it was 20 minutes to landing. Nice. Hello Đà Nẵng, you're my gateway to Đà Lạt, Hội An, and maybe Huế.

Pollen Singapore

Now that the crazy crowds have gone away from Pollen, and the kitchen has ironed out all its earlier misses, we took the parentals to dinner. They aren't the outdoorsy type, especially not in humid Singapore. That's why they disappear to a temperate climate six months out of a year. They've not visited Gardens by the Bay. They wouldn't see much during this short dinner stroll around the Flower Dome, but at least they could say they've been there. The parentals were thrilled with the buggy service from the carpark to the restaurant.

We're familiar enough with Jason Atherton's restaurants in Hong Kong, London and Shanghai, and well, Esquina (which is like 22 Ships). Done our rounds. While their menus don't exactly blow our minds, we like how the teams at the different restaurants are dependable and send out delectable offerings which make for a decent meal. The parentals wouldn't enjoy the atmosphere and the tiny seats at Esquina, but they prefer the space at Pollen. I like the Haviland & Co. plates, which are made from Limoges porcelain, I assume. Their vegetarian options are one of the best in town. As usual, the restaurant had a list of beers, and one choice in Gage Roads' Atomic Pale Ale. The rest on the current beer list were a useless pilsner, lager and witbier. They had a Basil Hayden which made for a great digestif.

Canapés, appetizers, starters, mains and dessert. Loved how all the flavors meshed together. The expected style and presentation of contemporary cuisine, yet not a weird fusion of foods. We took fish for the mains. Their cured swordfish with fennel, grapefruit nitro and toasted seaweed, and jasmine-tea-cured Norwegian salmon with artichoke barigole, ikura, mandarin orange and soft shell crab were very good. The man was crazy enough to order a gigantic tomahawk steak. Of course we couldn't finish it and had to pack quite a fair bit home. You know the man- he's gonna be making beef stock from the huge bone and remnant meat.

Sneakily instructed the restaurant on the matter of the bill. The parentals wanted to get us dinner, but we were determined not to let them do it. The restaurant sorted that out beautifully and told them "The bill has been taken care of." Perfect. I had casually mentioned that the parentals share a birthday month in October. To my surprise, besides the petit fours, the restaurant also gave them a cute onion-shaped mango-pineapple-cheesecake topped with a candle. How very nice! The man was very pleased because he got to share little bites of sweets. Heh.

No mains pictured. Too busy eating.

da:ns Festival 2014

Somehow, the offerings at da:ns Festival 2014 didn't inspire any 'must-watch' feelings. Not even for 'Onegin' by Stuttgart Ballet happening in three weeks. I like Alexander Pushkin's prose, but not so much of the deeper significance behind it. I remember how Simon Sebag Montefiore's 'One Night In Winter' was also written around the Russian political intrigue. Anyway, we're dealing with these two weeks first. In the end, since I missed the entire festival last year, and because the friends flew into town to catch several shows, I decided to join them.

Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake

WELL. I wasn't intending to watch this. But the friends were insistent. Fine. Never mind that it's an all-male cast. The interpretation is fascinating, with loads of modern-popular-media references. Instead of ballerinas in delicate tutus on stage, I got to see a slightly more aggressive interpretation of the ballet without the flouncy costumes, and a Prince at the centre of it. British choreographer Matthew Bourne totally turned the story topsy-turvy, in a humorous commentary and had his dancers move in focused clean sweeps. More contemporary arcs in the movements than traditional white swan and black swan pas de deux. It's darker. Surprisingly, I didn't fall asleep. Might have even found it more enjoyable than a traditional interpretation of 'Swan Lake'.



Forecasting

Watched Barbara Matijević move across the stage with a Macbook Pro, interpreting amateur YouTube videos that were two-dimensional on the Macbook and sync-ed herself to them three-dimensionally. Successfully so, I might add. 1er stratagème's 'Forecasting' asked us to "consider how technology has affected our senses, our relation to objects and movement, and our understand of presence". I most certainly understood that. Loads of pointed humor at many junctures; the audience was tickled. It was more physical theatre and media display than dance per se. There must have been hundreds of videos sifted out by both Barbara Matijević and Giuseppe Chico, and painstakingly pieced together to form not a story, but a subtle satire of modern-day YouTube habits. Guns, sex, porn, surgery, DIY-stuff, cooking, quirks, pets, and all. Didn't pay attention to the music; it wasn't striking. There were more words to pay attention to.



ALPHA

Pole dance and LED lighting. Why not. 'ALPHA' is a new work, a commissioned piece by Esplanade - Theatres on the Bay. It's produced by Belgium's contemporary dance company Kobalt Works, featuring Daniel Kok and Eisa Jocson. I never want to think deeper about the meaning behind the piece. I simply want to admire the strength and the lines shown in having the pole as a partner. Speed, spin and strength. Loved the lighting design. Impressive. Blurred gender lines of pre-conceived notions of pole dance. We certainly didn't mind it, or the frontal nudity of the performers. But at this show, some members of the audience walked out halfway through. Apparently this piece is going to Bangkok. I think it's next January. The company, performers and organizers might have to do some serious tweaking to suit the sensibilities of Thailand.

FAR by Wayne McGregor and Random Dance Company

It's Wayne McGregor. The man refused to attend this, even after being told he choreographed Radiohead's 'Lotus Flower'. Chehh. Roy Sydney Porter's 'Flesh in the Age of Reason'. Hence, 'FAR'. The Age of Enlightenment and self-understanding. It's more than dance. If I have to describe it, it's movement, exactly what Wayne McGregor is known for. The "distorted body". Unconventional movement that isn't formal dance. Portrayed so well by members of the Random Dance Company. The moment I realized the Icelandic influence of composer Ben Frost, I understood immediately the choice of the soundscape. The musical canvas began with Cecilia Bartoli's 'Sposa son Desprezzata' in Vivaldi's 'Bajazet', then panning out to a "synthesis of sound, lighting and movement" versus the "distillation of ideas given corporeal form." Still, Icelandic electronica or electronica anything, isn't something I'm hot about. Never mind that the performance as a whole might not be particularly coherent. Frankly, I didn't care about those LED lights on a panel as a backdrop. The stark, discordant industrial feel could be created from other sources. Those dancers were so strong on stage. That itself was a treat. So happy that I managed to catch their beautiful lines.

What Is Your Name?

The irony in buying many copies of Alvin Pang's prose collection 'What Gives Us Our Names' for friends two Christmases ago, even keeping a copy for myself, is that I never got around to reading it. On a short four-station train journey and with a 20-minute coffee break between work meetings, I finally finished it.

The 17 stories are titled after their protagonists- 'Community', 'Success', 'Beauty',  'Race', 'Passion', 'Purpose', 'Learning', 'Anxiety', 'Freedom', 'Failure', 'Despair', 'Service', 'Hope', 'Courage', 'Complexity', 'Patience' and 'Congruence'. They aren't just human traits or experiences and emotions anymore. The traits have been written into the stories and might or might not be greater than their human hosts. Their stories wouldn't be unheard of among our friends and fellow humans.

Oh such familiar stories, but the writer swopped out the names for another set of names, shifting perspectives and riffling through layers of life's experiences. Totally enjoyed the easy writing style and deeper thoughts behind the stories for the reader to chew on. My favorite  is 'Despair'.

Despair keeps no clocks. If you ask him the time, he will always say it is too late to complete your journey. He will tell you his is the last stop there is, anywhere. Do not trust the wily old shopkeeper. Instead, rest a while and thank him for his stories of lost glory. Then it is best to be on your way.

The last story of the book was titled 'Congruence', a congruent sum-up of the bubbling thoughts a reader would hold by now.

This was how, at least, Congruence arrived at the feast. It did not matter that he was dusty and bruised  from his voyage, nor that the other guests had already taken their places. With open arms welcomed him and listened in awe as he described landscapes and heartlands that no one else before had walked or witnessed. He spoke of how in his darkest moments when the path seemed lost, the clear song of his wife, Conviction, had kept him from wandering astray. 

"Truly," he said, "it is what we love that gives us our names."

Today, my name is Contemplate.

She's Turned Six

Dunno where to put my face now. Lil'Missy announced to the whole world that she was going skating with me on her birthday and proudly said she would...skip school. o.O This would probably be the last time she could skip school just like that. Next year, she'll be in Primary One and that's kinda official eh. No random skipping of school to go play. I think in some circles, they call that 'truancy'.

Her parents requested for no birthday gifts to be purchased for Missy. I respected and abided by that. The one thing I could give Missy, is time. As much as I enjoy having the girlfriend to myself, time is also allocated to her daughter, this birthday girl. When she starts Primary school, I'd see her a lot less. If my friendship with a little girl's mother isn't strong enough, there's very little reason to take to the child; although it's as much the children's prerogative to decide which adults they don't mind hanging out with.

All photos courtesy of a hardworking A with the camera.

Missy knows Aunty Imp will drop many things to come play if she asks. Nothing made me happier than to see the wide grins on both Y and Missy as they carefully glided round the ice rink. Much joy in the process of acquiring a skill. It was Y's special day too. Y's husband A, sat out on this activity, cheered on the girls, and grabbed photos from the gallery. Heh. He bought us all lunch, dessert and coffee. Woot. The gentleman.

I've seen Missy grow from yea big to this tall. Saw all the tantrums, meltdowns and peevish-ness. She's doing great. Her parents have raised her to be a generally unselfish and thoughtful youngling. May she continue to live in God's grace and keep the faith. As she steps into a microcosm that's more complex than kindergarten, may she not find the world cruel.

Happy Birthday, sweetheart. You're all of six now. I wish you many blessings in life and smiles after the tears.

Mandala

Bought tickets to 'Mandala' presented by In Source Theatre. We understood that physical theatre piece involved a performer drawing a 3-metre wide mandala (a spiritual symbol in Hinduism and Buddhism representing the Universe) with rice across the stage, symbolizing the cycle of life, and the urban human's search for fulfillment and meaning.

Aside from that, we didn't know what to expect. We weren't expecting anything either. Read something about the portrayal of Carl Jung's of 'Self' and 'individuation', which weren't unexpected, since he wrote a whole chapter on symbolism where the mandala is a "template of the mind". Walked into the darkened space with an open mind.

Didn't know what was staged earlier in 2003 and other cities. In this October 2014 production helmed by founder Beverly Yuen and new artistic director Jacklyn Kuah, we certainly didn't think it as too abstract. As long as it isn't a show where people dance-sing their lines throughout, we're pretty much cool with it. Physical theatre is just another form of contemporary storytelling that isn't overly strict on the dance but considers the narrative of the whole movement.

Sirfan Sulaimi was in charge of drawing that mandala. Didn't know if there were markers on the floor, but he drew a really good circle on his first broadstroke to outline the whole piece. That was impressive. Three not-unknown actors Eng Kai Er, Shana Yap and Sonia Quek took the stage, depicting mortals from childhood to adults caught in the rat race, and finally old age and a time of reflection. Bernice Lee, as choreographer advisor, also joined the performers at the side, lending vocals and movement, as though she was Time, whirling and twirling for an hour, moving through the decades implacably as humans experience their cycle of life. Loved the ending that suggested cleansing of the mind and soul, the eventual shedding of earthly desires and worldly concerns, possibly a re-birth and purity. Dunno about achieving enlightenment.

As the show drew to a close amidst this feeling of reflection among the audience, the man leaned over and whispered, "All the rice grains. Sudden craving. Let's have Teochew porridge for dinner." LOL. Yeah, we did.

A Soft-Serve At Night

Because the bff wanted ice-cream at 9.30pm, and most ice-cream parlors were closed, we went to grab a soft-serve instead. Next time, we might be better off stocking tubs of ice-cream at home. But neither she nor I have this habit. Anyway, she's been clocking 7km each run, for a minimum of two runs a week. She deserved the late-night sweets.

We hurried down to near-to-us Sunday Folks. It was alnost the close of business. They were taking last orders for waffles and there was virtually no queue. There were two persons ahead of us in the line, and five behind us. Two takeaway charcoal cones. A dark chocolate for me and a sea-salt gula melaka for her. Didn't ask for toppings, but the cafe piled them on anyway. Made the mistake of biting into those squares that the cafe adorned the soft-serve with. Marshmellows. YUCKS. I no like. The other brown squares were chocolate sponge-something.

The bff gleefully finished up her portion. After three licks, I kinda left mine untouched. Didn't want to bounce off the walls. Sugar keeps me awake in the nights the same way as caffeine does. The crash from a sugar-high feels terrible. Don't ask me about the soft-serve. :P Dunno anything about it. All of these stuff contain too much sugar. The only flavor of ice-cream I can discern whether it's a good mix and texture, is vanilla bean. The bff didn't mind her soft-serve from Sunday Folks. She can't resist gula melaka anything. Didn't even know why I turned up at a dessert joint. Humor her lor.

A Quiet Birthday Dinner

There was Yom Kippur, fasting and all, so we celebrated the man's father's birthday earlier. Arranged for an easy quiet dinner at Mandarin Oriental. Sorted out a customized menu right down to the ingredients, in honor of his birthday and to his health. The whole team of staff even sang the birthday song. Very nice.

I'm not big on cakes or candles. But many are, and I suppose there should be tiny slice of cake for the father-in-law. For as long as I've known the family, they're not big on huge whole slabs birthday cakes. We don't do birthday celebrations with the extended family or friends. Not enough humans to eat a 1kg cake. Importantly, nobody likes sugar enough to finish a whole cake or look forward to eat the remainder for the rest of the week. As usual, at this celebration, a tiny complimentary slice of birthday cake was better appreciated and easily shared. 

It Went Nowhere

In that magical never-diminishing pile of unread books, I picked up Ismail Kadare's 'The Accident'. It sounded completely like my kind of book. Finished it pretty quickly, couldn't quite believe what I thought of it, and read it a second time. And, I don't like it. Completely unimpressed and quite disappointed that it didn't turn out to be the thriller I expected. (Reviews here, here, here and here.)

The storyline is promising. A seemingly ordinary tragic taxi crash off the airport autobahn in Vienna. An Albanian couple Besfort Y (an analyst working for the Council of Europe on western Balkan affairs) and beautiful Rovena St (an intern at the Archeological Institute of Vienna) killed after being flung from the back seat. An alive Austrian taxi driver who seemed rather incoherent. Nothing suspicious was found after an extensive inquiry. No technical tampering evident. Then the intelligence services of the governments of Serbia and Montenegro, and Albania asked to inspect this file, "it should became clear that this country had kept the two victims under surveillance for a long time."

After that, the story simply went to pieces with a lot of unfocused writing, evidences and odd directions in terms of plot development. The author made the taxi driver's words deliberately obtuse. It might be poetic, but after a while, it became annoying. Nobody knew anything, and the readers are enveloped in that fog of the unknown too. Finely executed accident? Murder? Star-crossed lovers? Suicide pact? More stories constructed from stories of their friends dug up by an independent researcher.

Even the twist at the end might not be a clear answer, but something indefinitely concluded by the researcher. The mystery remained elusive, inconclusive. Perhaps it pulled political parallels in the Balkans and the Serbian Revolution. The threads are so fleeting that I couldn't even convince myself of that. By then, I had completely lost interest and didn't care why the couple died. Lots of cases go unsolved and in this particular narrative treatment, it was just a murky blur that was more annoying than admiring its poetic ambiguity.

The researcher now felt relief rather than despair at having abandoned any attempt to describe the final week. 

His conclusion was that not only the final moments in the taxi but the entire last week were impossible to describe. He felt no guilt at cutting his story short. On the contrary, he felt it would have been wrong to continue. 

In that moment of time, these four, that is, the two passengers, the driver and the mirror, apparently found themselves in an impossible conjunction. 

Something impossible happened, the driver had said. In other words, something that was beyond their understanding. It was like a story of souls whose bodies are absent. It was this dissociation of body and soul that evidently led to their sense of disorientation and intoxicating liberation, the uncoupling of form and essence. 

The file of the inquiry showed that Rovena and Besfort had mentioned this dissociation several times. They had also probably come to regret it.