Seventh month, Asian 'summer'

This month, we have mostly been enjoying our Asian 'summer' holidays. Whilst the tropical seasons speak of 'dry' or 'wet', international companies remain affected by the temperate seasons such that the end of June, July, August and the beginning of September are relatively quiet times. So, we have been taking full advantage and enjoying ourselves to the max:

- Living it up in London (and realising how much we love our lives in Sin City).

- Banging around Bangkok.

- Kicking back in Kota Kinabalu.

- Fully embracing the new nightclub, Stereolab. With a music policy focused on good quality international house DJs and a custom built soundsystem that offers an all-encompassing musical hug, it's possible that the brains behind Cafe Hacienda at Dempsey have got another 'full house'. It is the first club in Singapore to host a DJ from an international record label to perform weekly and with a capacity of only 300, is the perfect size for little red dot clubbing.

Dennis Ferrer gets a bead on boogeying to his beats

- Continuing to enjoy the delicate nuances of Singlish:



In other news, here are some 'slow burn' items:

- Taxi drivers. Lately, we have been subjected to some really 'goondu' taxi drivers. Granted, taxis in Singapore are far cheaper than in London and it is rather fun bouncing around on the super springy seats. It is less fun when after clearly enunciating your destination, you hear the dreaded words: "You teach me; I dun no". On a world map, Singapore can be covered by a chunky choc chip cookie crumb. It is quite beyond me how the taxi drivers are unfamiliar with roads and routes. One particular 'missed-my-calling-as-a-bin-man' taxi driver had to be directed between Tiong Bahru and Dhoby Ghaut - a journey of approximately 4.5 km (2.8 miles). Next time, I'll just offer to take the keys and self-drive to my destination.

- Acronyms. So as not to lose out on too much speaking time, Singaporeans have a love of shortening. I am all for avoiding long-winded speech, but too many acronyms spoil society's broth and make the basic understanding of how stuff works largely impenetrable to the uninitiated. For example,

"When I am not taking the MRT, I enjoy travelling on the PIE, ECP, AYE and CTE but I have to pay the ERP to my taxi driver uncle from the HDB heartlands."

Say what? It cheers me that the top dogs at Talking Cock have come up with new meanings for all these acronyms; my personal favourite being 'Single, Desperate and Ugly' for SDU (the government matchmaking organisation "on a mission of promoting marriage among singles and inculcating positive attitudes towards marriage among all singles in Singapore"). Good luck with that.

- Track rage on the MRT.

A Happy Journey Starts Like That!

Despite the overhead monitors blaring out Phua Chu Kang ("PCK")'s 'yoof' education video on constant repeat and each station itself being adorned with the corresponding "Don't Play Play, Let Me Come Out First" posters, I actually find the most irritating members of the travelling public are the 'aunties'. Their particularly dismaying rush-hour habits include:

1. Boarding before others have disembarked;
2. Boarding, taking two steps and turning round to secure their spot near the doors;
3. Shuffling their way to the front in a packed train to ensure that they disembark first;
4. Placing their whole handbag on the EZ-link card reader in the vain hope that it will locate their card in the depths of their bag and then looking surprised when it doesn't work; and
5. Slowly pausing to check their card balance when they are aware of the hordes of other people also trying to exit that lane.

A new advertising campaign needs to target those five specific behaviours with less rapping and chastising of young people, and more public humiliation of the aunties and uncles of Sin City. I would happily star as the MRT Grim Reaper. Death to all those who stand in my way.

To round off the 'summer', we have another weekend in Bali (this time, Nusa Lembongan), a party on Rawa, my 30th birthday in Tokyo, and then Lombok and Koh Phangan before the New Year (which will also likely be spent on some Asian escapade outside of this fair isle).

We have been advised by friends who have been here for some time that Singapore is nothing short of a nightmare (not dissimilar to central London) at the end of year celebrations - bars and clubs packed to the rafters, impossible to get a drink and facing the strong possibility of having to sleep in the flower bed of Old Parliament House due to lack of a homeward bound taxi. Nice.

Asian Adventure 6 :: 6-13 Aug '09 :: Kota Kinabalu, Malaysia

Arriving at midday in KK, we were surprised to see the streets and sky laced with a smokey haze, somewhat reminiscent of the fog that persistently shrouds Hong Kong and Shanghai. Was Borneo similarly polluted?

We settled in at our budget hotel and looked forward to obtaining our shameless wet suit tans whilst learning how to dive.

KK was noticeably sleepy with a handful of locals sitting outside the dusty Filipino market area, each with no more than a few armfuls of fruits (rambutans, mangosteen and durians) laid out for sale. No economies of scale here - just sell as much as you can pick.

A few steps further on from the fruit sellers were the all-male sewing machinists. Mending a full range of clothing and any leather accessories, I couldn't help but marvel at this reversal of the Western stereotypical mother ready to darn your socks and patch your jeans.



Staminate sewers

The next morning, after a breakfast of fried bee hoon and ring-stingingly hot sambal chilli squid alongside the usual bread and jam offerings, we were picked up by our dive school, Down Below, to begin our journey to Pulau Gaya in the Tunku Abdul Rahman Park.

We soon found out from our instructors that the hazy atmosphere was being caused by forest fires in Indonesia, the smoke from which had blown across to Borneo and was creating a mystical cloudiness surrounding its neighbouring islands. Added to this, the weather had not been ideal of late which made for murky waters due to the fine sands being disrupted by the rough seas. "Great," I thought, "just what we need."

Over the three day PADI course (with integrated e-learning), I believe I swallowed a substantial amount of the Park's waters during the mask removal training. I hope they don't subsequently find a drop in local sea levels. Having had a serious sense of humour failure on the second day when I found that I hadn't really mastered the mask removal task whilst ten metres below (which caused numerous bouts of aforementioned sea swallowing), I got my act together for the final day and passed with flying colours. I must say, I have to thank Calvinn, the cheese-loving Malaysian Chinese dude who's taking time off from five years spent as a software engineer to teach novices like me how to survive underwater. If I could raise a flipper to him, I would.



Calvinn - he shivers if the water is less than 25 degrees Celsius

We booked a final day's 'fun dive' at North Sulug whereupon we discovered a blue-spotted stingray; Nemo and a number of his friends; and - the pièce de résistance - a hawksbill turtle gently grazing at twelve metres.

Our other adventure in KK was to the Klias Wetlands to visit the Monkey Tops Safari Eco Lodge where we saw proboscis monkeys, monitor lizards and fire flies all hanging out and doing their thing. Our tour was dominated by Japanese and Chinese tourists so it wasn't long before we spied a t-shirt with a typically poorly expressed English slogan: "have a terrific Sensibility" (sic). What does that MEAN?



Can you spy the tree-swinging Nasosus Machedonus?

Eating highlights were (from extortionate to dirt cheap):

- Coast at the Shangri-La Rasa Ria Resort: If you have a special occasion to mark, book a private gazebo here. It is a 40 minute (90 ringgit) taxi ride from the centre of KK, but your delectable menu starts with a champagne cocktail watching the sun set, and comes complete with your own iPod dock filled with suitably chillaxing music, a live acoustic guitarist for a couple of tunes, and half a dozen red roses surreptitiously thrust into the hands of your beau as he returns from the wash room by your private butler, Cuthbert. For real.



A little slice of Heaven on Earth

- Nishiki: Never seen such thick slices of sashimi in my life (and I've lived in Japan). Great food, huge portions (we definitely over-ordered) and mid-range prices to be expected with good quality Japanese food in deepest darkest Malaysia.

- Bella Italia at the Jesselton Hotel: Served up delicious pizzas and pastas for knock-down prices complete with lashings of eminently quaffable wine - a rarity in this region.

- Kohinoor: An Indian gem amongst a number of sub-standard outlets along the Waterfront serving up all your usual favourites to satisfy any longstanding British love affair with their adopted national dish.

- Wisma Merdeka Food Court (Phase 1, 2nd Floor, Wisma Merdeka Shopping Centre) was a god-send for lunches and dinners when we needed a simple Asian meal powered by air-conditioning.

- Filipino Night Market: Famed for being one of the best night markets in Malaysia, the stalls serving an array of freshly barbecued prawns, fish, crab and squid certainly lived up to their reputation. For a meal for two, including rice and excellent fresh chilli sauce, the fine was just 70 ringgit. Thank goodness there was no extra charge for tissue papers. It was by far the hottest and most sweaty meal that we had ever eaten (and we are used to eating in 30 degree heat!). The fact that everything still tasted so good and we stayed until we had finished every last morsel is testament to the excellence of the explosion that tickled our taste buds.



Largest prawns. Ever. Fact.

As a novice dive spot specialising in macro life (the small stuff), KK was a good place to base ourselves. Now that we have our passport to the seas, we plan to get in a few dives where we can around Indonesia before facing the challenges and adventures of Sipadan, often noted as one of the world's best dive sites. Strap on your Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus and we'll see you down below!

Asian Adventure 5 :: 31 Jul - 2 Aug '09 :: Bangkok, Thailand

Making use of the thoroughly amenable flight times and using up some Krisflyer Miles, we headed out for a weekend in Bangkok to meet up with friends at the end of their two week honeymoon traversing Thailand. A collection of impressions:

- People in Bangkok have a 'do it until you're told not to' attitude. All three lanes of the motorway entering the city were jam-packed on arrival at 8 pm on a Friday night, even the hard shoulder. Only when a police car attempts to cut through the traffic are people alerted to move off the hard shoulder, something which causes further gridlocked chaos. The long-awaited Skytrain extension which will connect the city with the airport will, no doubt, ease this arrival congestion.

- People in Bangkok are never more than 10 paces away from something edible. This is enabled via the inordinate variety of items categorised by locals as 'food'; items which would not necessarily be considered in the same light by other cultures - soft shell turtles, toads, grasshoppers, grubs and bugs. It's all about the dipping sauce. Clearly.



Deep fried soft shell turtle with chilli sauce, anyone?

For more mainstream eateries, we headed to Arun Residence for a delectable riverside Thai feast overlooking Wat Arun (how did they ascend and descend back in the day without the modern handrails?!); and Tapas Cafe for a delicious selection of Spanish morsels.

- Ping pong is not only a bat and ball sport. When I was last in Bangkok, eighteen years previous, Patpong was all about pole dancing. I recall as a wide-eyed eleven year old pretending to study the fake handbags furiously whilst occasionally glimpsing over my shoulder to spy the pole dancers through the red doors held ajar by heavily makeup clad 'mama-sans'. Now, the touts tend to be vertically challenged super-tanned slicked back geezers waving flyers in your face for 'Patpong Ping Pong' - a showcase of 'powerful pussies'. No miaowing allowed.

- The long boats on the Chao Phraya River are powered by suped-up old aircraft engines, which ensure a white knuckle waterborne ride. We heeded the advice of a fellow traveller and enjoyed the journey with our mouths firmly held shut to avoid ingesting any of the waterborne diseases lurking in the constant spray from the swell.



Pimp my power boat

- The thirty five acre plot that Chatuchak Market occupies offers upwards of 5,000 stalls, each of varying quality, along with a curious omnipresent mixed odour of drains, rotting fruit and delicious street food. It is a mecca for a range of individuals - from Western boutique owners who negotiate wholesale (read: dirtier than dirt-cheap) prices for original, often handmade, garments and also for those in the market for fashionably dressed baby rabbits:



"Excuse me, do you have any Burberry bunnies?"

- The Khao San Road has to be seen to be believed. Packed like sardines in a short street to the north west of the centre are scores of bars and clubs. The road glows with neon lighting and attracts mostly young international revellers there to drink and be/get drunk. It's no frills, plenty of spills, and no seeing and being seen. Despite this, we managed to locate a little piece of drunkard's paradise complete with a partially secluded beer garden and a two storey traditional Thai wooden house full of nooks, crannies and many of Bangkok's rich kids. (Hippie de Bar, 46 Khao San Road). It was a very welcome world away from the first bar that we tried at which the main formula was: lecherous lad + pretty Thai girl = "me love you long time"

Eighteen years ago, we journeyed around Bangkok mostly in vigourously haggled tuk-tuks. It was dirty, there were stray cats and dogs everywhere and there was a real danger of experiencing post-street food gastrointestinal disorders. Today, Bangkok is forging ahead with the sky train, swanky sky bars and saying "sawadee ka (/kup)" to the future. It's still chaotic, but it's an excellent place to enjoy some hedonistic havoc.