Glamour

When Mum and Dad visit, it is nothing but the finest and most glamorous locations. Easy parking, two phones, important news... what else do you need?

 

Por Kee Eating House

Tales from the Crypt - Xinjiang 2001

Xinjiang is a phenomenal area, both geographically and culturally. Located on the borders of Pakistan, Afghanistan, Tajikstan, Kyrgyzstan and Mongolia, Xinjiang is a Muslim province within China. People are Uighur, Hazak & Kazak and there are few Han Chinese though in recent years this has been rapidly changing due to PRC policy to develop region. The land ranges from Swiss Alp-like mountains to searing low-land deserts, all within a few hours drive of each other.

The Flaming Mountains

My visit was well prior to the up-swell of "separatist" violence of 2008 although several weeks prior, a series of non-fatal explosions had been let-off.

 

In travelling from Turpan to Tianchi, I was befriended by a Uighur man in the bus. His family had currently set their yurt high up on the mountain just below the snow-line and I was invited to ride one of their tiny horses up the mountain and stay with them.

The family were essentially herdsman and horseman. Little did I know, one of the staples if you are a horseman and herdsman is horses' milk. When I saw them milking the mares I stupidly asked "if you can drink it." Horse milk is fermented in a sheep's stomach until alcoholic and then consumed in great quantities. As a guest and someone to be indulged, I was given a bucket-load of milk. Not figuratively. Literally. A bucket of fermented, warm, horse milk.  I didn't want to offend so gritted my teeth and gulped it all down. At about 4am, I had to delicately and drunkenly sneak out of the communal yurt to throw it all up. Good times.

One of my favourite markets is the Kashgar Sunday market. Young men buy and sell horses with the machismo of young men and horsepower anywhere in the world.

In a small circle of men discussing the merits of the wares, horses are raced back and forwards as the haggling and negotiating takes place. The horses are stopped within a few inches of the crowds nothing close to a flinch from anyone, then raced back to the other side.

Possibly my favourite street-food market is the Urumuqi night market. Flat breads, cold beer, everything under the sun grilled on sticks over coals and the spices of the silk road. I felt like Indiana Jones. In one of my more fashionably ill-advised periods, I even sported a panama hat and white singlet to set the mood. I should have gone for the cool leather jacket and whip.

Xinjiang has even more. It has a temple for the Monkey King whose escapades brought him through the region in the Journey to The West. For those who are culturally stunted and don't know the most important variation of the story, we're talking about Monkey Magic!

Choking on my words

I often bitch and moan about how quickly Tiong Bahru is changing. That the balance between the old-world style that attracted all of "us" and the new-world gentrification is tipping to heavily.

With Amanda away this weekend and feeling particularly bored, I went out for my morning coffee at Forty Hands to ponder what to do today.

After that I wandered over to the Tan Boon Liat building to poke around while munching on a croissant from Providore.

 

 

Then for a snack, I had a cheeky char siu bao  from Tiong Bahru Pau & snack.

 

 

Before picking up a steak for dinner at Foodie Marketplace.

 

Then a cupcake for dessert from Vanilla Bakery.

 

 

And found some unusual and interesting books at Books Actually.

 

  And looked at the kooky things in Strangelet.

 And now I am off to my massage at Nimble/Knead. OK, so Tiong Bahru is not that bad.



Prawning

Part team building, part farewell to Glenn Ng who is one of my team, we spent the afternoon at East Coast Park prawning. It is high action fishing in a man-made pond using rod, but no reel.



 

This is the result of 6 man (& woman) hours of fishing. Mildly fun, incredibly uneconomical.

Tales from the crypt - Botswana warthog kill

This video is not for the faint of heart, vegetarians or the kiddies.

 

This is from our trip to Botswana in 2009 and filmed in the Kwando Linyanti wetlands near the Namibian border. We had come specifically to see the endangered wild dogs however were very lucky to see an actual kill. While the slow speed in which the warthog was dispatched was fairly uncomfortable, it was the noise that chilled to the bone.

Bunaken drift dive

I just figured out how to compress videos so I can now upload this short clip of a nice little drift dive in Bunaken, Manado. The speed in the clip is the natural current speed and is something I always enjoy. While a little clichéd, this is as close to flying as you can get. Except for flying.

 

sorry about the resolution!

How to encourage Australian's to vote

Well apart from being legally compulsory, you provide a sausage sizzle. This year's election seems to be the first Australian election where social media has been so ubiquitous and while there was little comment on the dire state of the Australian political scene, there was plenty of comment on the sausage sizzle. The wasn't one, there was a great one, I am the way to the sausage sizzle, can't wait for the sausage sizzle, where was the sausage sizzle........

The political options this year were so uninspiring that the sausage sizzle played a moderate part in making sure I didn't skip the vote. It was definitely the only thing that got Amanda to the booth.

Essentials for the sausage sizzle:

• one slice of cheap white bread per sausage
• sausage placed diagonally
• grilled onions
• mustard/tomato sauce optional but must not be gourmet versions

Singapore Zoo volunteer - Stage 2 passed

The common training phase has successfully been passed and I now move to station-based training.  I have been allocated my first pick, the Fragile Forest.

 

 

 

Mum and Dad circa 1867

Aunt Betty

Elizabeth was in Singapore for a whirlwind stopover after a month with Bhutanese monks. After the pretentious Gastrogig (theme of the night - chefs with tattoos), we risked another event by the same mob and glad we did. BBQ? Tick. Whole animal? Tick. Plastic seats? Tick. Relaxed? Tick. Cold beer? Well, there was a lot of box ticking.