Travel is not just about the destination, but also about the journey. And a fine journey it was. A two hour stopover at Schiphol allowed me to stock up on Dutch magazines and have a McKroket (not quite the same as Van Dobben but hey....can't have it all). At the gate, two little blond Dutch boys were in awe of the KLM pilot who dutifully posed for them. Very cute. My stewart wasn't as good looking as the pilot (could have been the missing cap) but he made sure I had a good flight. Flying economy comfort was a good choice. Still didn't get much sleep but it sure was the quieter part of the plane and extra recline is a treat on 12 hour flight. My cabbie to the hotel had lived in Amsterdam and London, which was a first for any Asian cabbie I have ever met. Lovely chatty guy. And oh, the joys of checking into a flash hotel. Many people (and I used to be one of them) say it's not wirth the money as you only sleep there on hols. Well, did I prove them wrong. My jetlag kept me awake most of the first night. I went through half a Dutch magazine and half a Janet Evanovich. All between 1am and 5am. Only to fall back asleep around 5am, and not waking up until 11am. So half of my Saturday was gone before it started. Anyway. A nice shower, majestic bed, and good room service are treats I truly appreciate for a couple of nights straight on arrival these days. And what guesthouse would provide a room with massive windows on the 30th floor overlooking the city (albeit not the Petrona towers)?
When I finally was out and about, I headed to Chinatown and Little India. Amazing streetlife. Women with beautiful headscarfs and dressed in najib (or whatever you call the ones that just leave a little bar free for the eyes), the latter something I'll never get used too. Many women in sarongs in Little India, and in the centre too. I visited a chinese, hinduh and buddhist temple, and ate tasty street food. At the hottest part of the day, I stumbled across the Central Markets that had a nice cool coffeeshop with WIFI in it. Two hours later I had uploaded pics, read Facebook and Twitter updates and had some lunch. Most modern coffee shops here have free WIFI, great. And despite it being past 2pm, it was still bloody hot. I walked the pace of an average European 80yo, while drinking my body weight in water.
Dinner the first two nights was a hawker's place in the center. Tourists and locals alike eat Thai, Chinese, or Indian style street food on plastic stools. Cheap as chops and a huge variety. Grilled frogs and frog porridge are particularly popular with the locals, but less so with the tourists it seems. A stall that did deep-fry-your-own-skewers looked very interesting. A local couple offered me to try some of theirs, but I gave that a miss, something I later regretted. Might try some tomorrow. The centre is lively and right by the monorail station breakdancers and living statues entertain the crowds. Many coffee shops are lined along the main drags, and the first thing I saw getting off the monorail was a bloody Debenhams!
In the elevator back to my room, a (gay) American guy started complaining to me that he felt fat. 'I put this suit on today but am so fat I won't be able to take it off anymore'. I thought he was rather fit and good looking, said he didn't look fat (figured I should leave out the fit and good looking), and out he walked with a 'sleep well, love' and a big warm smile. And sleep well was what I did. Or at least between 4am and 9am.
Sunday, 19 September 2010
Wednesday, 8 September 2010
Eight more sleeps!
For the past three weeks I have stopped myself from starting to pack my suitcase. As of tonight, I have given up. Too much excitement. Like a quarter back at the prospect of being in the cheerleaders' dressing room. A priest on his way to a playground (appropriately timed, this comparison, as the pope is almost on his way here). Or the good old kid walking into a candy store. The excitement that comes with the prospect of something big. In my case, a trip to my beloved Asia. Malaysia and Singapore, to be precise. In eight sleeps. With a busy weekend and week ahead (busy in terms of visitors, diners and lunches that is). So I allow myself to start packing. Eight books at the bottom of my back pack. Two books in the carry on luggage. Beauty products. Bikinis. I do tend to get my priorities right. All I need to do next is wack in some underwear, clothes, pack my camera gear and Bob's your uncle. Kuala Lumpur, here I come! Almost!
Saturday, 4 September 2010
Ta'if
"The top notes are pink pepper, dates and saffron, the heart is of rose, freesia, orange flower and jasmine, and the base is of broom and amber. Ta'if is a earthy rose scent; the broom, amber and saffron in the blend make an accord that gives me an olfactory impression of the warm earth from the Arabian town of Ta'if where the roses are grown. The rose in the scent is voluptuous and full blown, supported by the warmth and spice of the rest of the blend. This is definitely a warm fragrance, rather than a cooler rose scent." Now I am not able to describe a perfume in this way, but blogger Londonmakeupgirl is. So I 'borrowed' it from her.
For ages I had been planning to visit Ormonde Jayne, a London perfume house. They have a little shop just off Bond Street. When I walked in, the shop girl was helping a middle aged couple find the right scents for them. They were lovely, 'normal' people, as opposed to the many rich folk you find in Bond Street. It seemed their son had given them a voucher each, such a lovely gift. Ormonde Jayne is a tiny shop. They have a handful of fragrances, and that's it. After watching her help the couple, I was quite keen to stick my nose in some of the bottles. When it was my turn, I described what I did and didn't like. Five minutes later, I walked out of the shop with Ta'if on my left wrist, and Sampaquita on my right. Twenty minutes later, when the scent had settled, I returned to buy Ta'if. What a lovely scent it is. And what a nice 'London' thing to have.
For ages I had been planning to visit Ormonde Jayne, a London perfume house. They have a little shop just off Bond Street. When I walked in, the shop girl was helping a middle aged couple find the right scents for them. They were lovely, 'normal' people, as opposed to the many rich folk you find in Bond Street. It seemed their son had given them a voucher each, such a lovely gift. Ormonde Jayne is a tiny shop. They have a handful of fragrances, and that's it. After watching her help the couple, I was quite keen to stick my nose in some of the bottles. When it was my turn, I described what I did and didn't like. Five minutes later, I walked out of the shop with Ta'if on my left wrist, and Sampaquita on my right. Twenty minutes later, when the scent had settled, I returned to buy Ta'if. What a lovely scent it is. And what a nice 'London' thing to have.
Monday, 30 August 2010
Amsterdam-London weekend
In two days in the Dam I got soaked twice and got the umbrella out a gazillion times. It usually rained for about three minutes at the time when I was out witht he brolly, and of course it wouldn't stop when I left the brolly at Mary's. Ah well. I went for friends and babies and friends and babies I saw. Plus I stocked up on drop, sultana biscuits and volkorenbrood. Gutted I forgot the walnut boterkoek. Then again, as the plane that was meant to take us to the Dam broke down on its way to London, I was lucky to even get there. Thank you VLM/KLM for sorting out a spare plane and crew within two hours!
And thank god for the bank holiday in Old Blighty today. It was sunny and warmish and lovely. Friend Ilse and I decided to go west and explore Richmond and Twickenham. I had been to the park and the rugby ground but that was about it. We spent five hours outside. Walked along the fields, ate blackberries, we even took a wee ferry across the river. Lunch was BBQed food at a pub by the river in Twickenham and we finished the day with a cuppa and a cannoli. I took one pic that I am too lazy to upload now but trust me, it was fabulous. And worth the 20 stops on the District Line as the fecking Jubilee line was out of service again.
And thank god for the bank holiday in Old Blighty today. It was sunny and warmish and lovely. Friend Ilse and I decided to go west and explore Richmond and Twickenham. I had been to the park and the rugby ground but that was about it. We spent five hours outside. Walked along the fields, ate blackberries, we even took a wee ferry across the river. Lunch was BBQed food at a pub by the river in Twickenham and we finished the day with a cuppa and a cannoli. I took one pic that I am too lazy to upload now but trust me, it was fabulous. And worth the 20 stops on the District Line as the fecking Jubilee line was out of service again.
Thursday, 19 August 2010
My friend
She is larger than life. A total party professional. Drinks champagne like it's going out of fashion but luckily has so many braincells she can afford to lose a few. She inspires me to live life to the max. To drink champagne on other days than NYE. Damn, it even got to a point when her love of latino men rubbed off on me. When she's heart broken, I feel her pain, and vice versa.
Who'd have thought, when we met back in '06 or so, in Cafe Hans en Grietje, that we would hit it off like this. For three months only we lived in the same country. But those three months were the beginning of a special friendship. Despite living about 10,000 miles apart, we manage to see each other once a year on average. And 2010 is a good year. A week in Melbs, a week in Tassie, and now four days in London.
The photo was taken on Queensday 2007. On our way to the boat I hired, we bought two champagne glasses at the vrijmarkt. Hers survived the move down under, mine the one to London. A tangible reminder of the good times we shared in the Dam.
My liver is lined up, the Veuve is in the fridge, the nice restaurants are booked. Bring on miss Brimson!
Monday, 16 August 2010
A different type of city trip
What we expected was a gloomy, grey, weekend in Dublin. Bit of rain, plenty of pubs. Good for chilling, chatting and making the most of our stay in the beautiful Clarence Hotel. No sun is required for catching up with old friend Paul on Friday night and eating nice french food at Frere Jacques on Saturday night - things we had planned to do.
How different reality was! It was sunny, warm and there were few clouds to be seen. So we only stayed in the city on Friday and explored the 'suburbs' (a bit of an insult for the beautiful towns on the outskirts of Dublin) on Saturday and Sunday. Malahide and Dalkey are affluent coastal towns with lovely cafes, nice little shops and beautiful coastline. We walked down to Portmarnock, watching the sailors, snorklers, swimmers and sunbathers (they clearly only do stuff that starts with an S in this part of the world). We walked along the beach, through a park and in the forest. Saw castles and castle shops. Had lunch in the sun by the Malahide marina, polishing off a nice bottle of white (only to get rid fo the hangover from mixing cocktails, japanese beer and good old Guiness the night before). Smelled the smell of fish when we strolled around the boat rental places. Admired the runners in Dalkey (seriously....heaps of them on Sunday morning!).
A great weekend altogether. And a confirmation I have so not lost my thing for the north Dublin accent! Or Irish men.
Oh, and a new thing I have learned: people in Dublin wear a lot of green. Seriously. Not just the tourists. I always assumed it was called the emerald isle because of its green countryside. But it must be because of the dress sense of the Dubliners.
Monday, 2 August 2010
Culture vulture and amateur chef
Two things keep me busy at the moment. Post having to balance football, Wimbledon, cricket and more, two things is manageable. They are the red pluche and food.
A big wish came through last weekend: with friends Ilse and Heather I went to see the Bolshoi ballet. Ilse is now spoiled forever as this was her first ballet, Heather used to be a pro dancer herself and saw it in that light. I just love ballet and was stunned by how good this company is. Unbelievable.
Two days later, Ilse, her parents and I joined the Arab contingent in Kensington. While we ate our pre-theatre dinner at a local Italian, we were entertained by two fat blokes with a fat car, boot open, who were handed bags full of designer clothes by the ladies they accompanied. Not once or twice, but four or five times. Business as usual in the rich parts of London in August, when many Arabs come here to shop, sometimes bringing their own cars from Dubai and the likes. It's a phenomenon that makes for great people watching. Anyway...the whole reason we were there was the Royal Albert Hall, as we had tickets for the Prom. I knew 3 of the 4 composers that were played that night. It's probably a good thing I didn't know the 4th as his piece was just awful! Nothing a three year old with the right tools couldn't do, we all thought. Weird avant garde noise. It was the premiere of that piece, the composer was there and half the crowd absolutely loved it. Rave reviews in the papers the next day too. Ah well.... Let's just say it wasn't for me. A half empty RAH on a Monday night by the way, turned out to be great for prommers who like to listen to their music horizontally. Several people were lying in the proms area as there was so much floor space. A funny view, from our balcony.
Coming up next on the culture front are Sondheim's Into the Woods, Shakespeare's As you Like it and Noel Coward's Design for Living. Plus I got tickets for Classical Spectacular. Slightly tacky but they do some beautiful pieces and play very English songs at the end.
Then food. Since I moved here, having access to proper supermarkets, I have completely rediscovered my love for cooking. At home I usually can't be bothered thinking ahead on a Saturday, and my local Albert Heijn is just that....an Albert Heijn. An inflated 7-11. Here, the abundance of great products make I enjoy preparing my own food more than ever. Throw in a website I discovered last year by a girl who does fashion and food equally well, and I eat like a king. The past two weeks I have made fantastic mozzarella and halloumi based salads, grilled organic chicken with lemon time and other stuff, squid salad, nice pastas, thai style tofu and what have you. At work, I am already thinking about that night's meal and popping down to Waitrose on the way home, I know another nice meal is on the cards that day. Life is good.
A big wish came through last weekend: with friends Ilse and Heather I went to see the Bolshoi ballet. Ilse is now spoiled forever as this was her first ballet, Heather used to be a pro dancer herself and saw it in that light. I just love ballet and was stunned by how good this company is. Unbelievable.
Two days later, Ilse, her parents and I joined the Arab contingent in Kensington. While we ate our pre-theatre dinner at a local Italian, we were entertained by two fat blokes with a fat car, boot open, who were handed bags full of designer clothes by the ladies they accompanied. Not once or twice, but four or five times. Business as usual in the rich parts of London in August, when many Arabs come here to shop, sometimes bringing their own cars from Dubai and the likes. It's a phenomenon that makes for great people watching. Anyway...the whole reason we were there was the Royal Albert Hall, as we had tickets for the Prom. I knew 3 of the 4 composers that were played that night. It's probably a good thing I didn't know the 4th as his piece was just awful! Nothing a three year old with the right tools couldn't do, we all thought. Weird avant garde noise. It was the premiere of that piece, the composer was there and half the crowd absolutely loved it. Rave reviews in the papers the next day too. Ah well.... Let's just say it wasn't for me. A half empty RAH on a Monday night by the way, turned out to be great for prommers who like to listen to their music horizontally. Several people were lying in the proms area as there was so much floor space. A funny view, from our balcony.
Coming up next on the culture front are Sondheim's Into the Woods, Shakespeare's As you Like it and Noel Coward's Design for Living. Plus I got tickets for Classical Spectacular. Slightly tacky but they do some beautiful pieces and play very English songs at the end.
Then food. Since I moved here, having access to proper supermarkets, I have completely rediscovered my love for cooking. At home I usually can't be bothered thinking ahead on a Saturday, and my local Albert Heijn is just that....an Albert Heijn. An inflated 7-11. Here, the abundance of great products make I enjoy preparing my own food more than ever. Throw in a website I discovered last year by a girl who does fashion and food equally well, and I eat like a king. The past two weeks I have made fantastic mozzarella and halloumi based salads, grilled organic chicken with lemon time and other stuff, squid salad, nice pastas, thai style tofu and what have you. At work, I am already thinking about that night's meal and popping down to Waitrose on the way home, I know another nice meal is on the cards that day. Life is good.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
