Date: 07/04/2012

Location: Owakudani, Japan

The photos above is the famous wasabi-flavored ice cream found in Owakudani. K was eager to give it a go, although I cringed at the thought of it.

Who would want to have wasabi in their ice cream?

After much convincing and a quick lick of the ice cream, I was rather surprised. The ice cream tasted very much like wasabi, with smooth and sweet taste of the vanilla and without the numbness in the nose.

Mom, K and I took a day tour to Mt Fuji and Hakone. Upon arrival in Owakudani, a tiny tourist town on a mountain, snow started to fall. Owakudani is also famous of volcanic-cooked blackened hard-boiled eggs.

According to the tour guide,
If you eat one of these eggs, you’ll live 7 years longer.
If you eat 2 of these eggs, you’ll live 14 years longer.
If you 3 of these eggs, you’ll live until you die, because these eggs are high in cholesterol!

Snow fell gently at first, but by the time K and I reached the tiny yellow hut, perched lonely on the mountain top next to a sulphuric stream of water and surrounded by volcanic steam piping out of rocky cracks, the gentle snow became a blizzard!

Before the trip, K thought wishfully to see snow, as he hasn’t seen it since he was a young boy. It was as if the universe heard his wish and granted it in bucket loads! It was a brilliantly surprising afternoon indeed!

Date: 02/04/2012

Location: Roppongi, Tokyo, Japan

The guys from the local Tokyo office took me out for dinner in Roppongi. Roppongi is known for its upper-class bars, pubs, clubs and restaurants. Also known as the place to pick-up and be picked-up.

Earlier in the day, I mentioned to Makiko that I’m vegetarian, although assuring her that any cuisine or restaurant will do, just as long as meat or seafood isn’t added.

Many times previously, I was subtle-ly crucified for making it difficult for hosts to find/provide vegetarian food. Hence, if anyone offered to host, I’d assure my flexible taste for any cuisine. As long as no meat & seafood, is ay-O-K with me. Surprisingly, Makiko found Yasaiya Mei.

Ryo, who also came along, said that Yasaiya Mei is one of the most popular vegetarian restaurants in Tokyo, famously known for the Vegetable Shabu Shabu.

I was delighted! It’s the first time I had ever seen or heard of a vegetable only shabu shabu! The Shabu Shabu came with a large bowl of mixed mushrooms and colourful cabbages and a simmering pot of miso and mushroom soup. Our shabu-shabu was accompanied with aloe shashimi and a pint of Kirin, which made our meal complete. A divine place for vegetarians indeed!

If you’re ever in Roppongi, do drop by Yasaiya Mei, in Roppongi Hills and give this a go.

Date: 9/04/2012 
Location: Kyoto, Japan

My long 4-day weekend was during the busiest tourist season in all of Japan.

The Sakura season.

Every year Sakura enthusiasts eagerly await for the cherry blossoms to bloom. All over the country, along gardens, parks, rivers and sidewalks, shades of soft pink and white cover tree tops like cotton candy, which only lasts for 2-3 weeks every year.

The Sakura carries a profound meaning in the Japanese culture. The cherry blossom serves as a gentle reminder of the impermanence of life. Being aware of the transience of all things evokes an appreciation of life’s ephemeral beauty as well as a wistfulness in its passing.  

Last year ushered a quiet and gloomy cherry blossom season, due to the fears of radiation caused by the tsunami.  Despite this year’s winter was long and dreary, which delayed the Cherry Blossom season till mid April, Japan saw a rise in tourists and Hanami parties. Hanami is the Japanese custom of ‘enjoying the flowers’, whereby large plastic sheets are laid below a blossoming sakura, while people sing, dance, laugh and sip on sake or shochu.

Mom, K and I didn’t get to join any Hanami. But we did join the masses of tourists and locals in the Kyoto Imperial Park, enjoying the beauty of the transient Sakura.

Date: 03/04/2012

Location: Shinagawa, Japan

The Japan Meteorological Agency issued a tornado warning earlier this morning.. It is said that today is the strongest storm to hit Tokyo since 1959, with winds up to 90 kph. Based on Bloomberg, rails have stopped, baseball games were cancelled, companies and oil refineries closed early, and so on. My office advised everyone to leave at 3.00pm.

My office is a 15 minute walk from my hotel on a bright sunny day. But on Tokyo’s stormiest day, it took me a good half hour. Initially, I had wrongly assumed that it was just rain with a bit of wind. And as long as I had my umbrella, the walk home would be slightly unpleasant, but not too difficult. Boy was I wrong. 

My EUR 3,00 umbrella crumpled in the ghastly wind like a spider to a flame. My shoes were drenched to the sole. My hair looked as if I had ridden a long motorcycle ride without a helmet. After a hot shower, I was bored. I didn’t know how long this wind would last. How can I spend an evening indoors? In Tokyo?

Instead, I wandered the hotel lobby and the shopping center next door. Window shopped. Finally, I settled comfortably in an Italian Bar & Restaurant (that has free wifi), with happy-hour white wine in one hand and my iPhone in the other. Curious. I people watched from the cozy high stool of the bar. Some scurried from shelter to shelter for as if their life depended on it, clutching their coats and umbrellas like a lifesaver. Others, the more elderly looking locals, sat outside a cafe as if it was a sunny day.  

It was only around 9pm had the wind subsided. By then, I was too lazy to venture out into town. Allon, a fellow traveller I’ve met in Vietnam who is now residing in Tokyo, called not long after.

The streets of Tokyo is quiet. As quiet and as empty as when the tsunami and earthquake hit Japan not long ago.

Best that I stayed in then.

Date: 18/3/2012 
Location: Chatuchak Market, Bangkok, Thailand

It was my second time to Bangkok. And yet, I hadn’t the time to book myself on a city tour or any tour for that matter. Work, and the socializing that comes with it, took up almost all of my time.

Till one weekend, I found myself with nothing to do on Sunday, and I didn’t want to let a free day pass me by without exploring the city. Who knows when I’ll return?

From my hotel, I took the local MRT to the Chatuchak Station, where the Weekend Market is. A wave of hot and smelly moisture slapped my face as I exited the coolly air-conditioned MRT. The air was a potent mixture of sewage, cooked foods, sweat and everything else you wouldn’t want to imagine. Even if you’re blind, just by the smell, you know you’re in Bangkok!

The market is a mere stone throw away, but the people traffic made the journey from the MRT to the market a slow 5 minute walk through a small park. I couldn’t find the main entrance into the market. Based on ‘group wisdom’, I followed the bee-line of people into the market via tiny entrances along the main street.

There were thousands of stalls, lined close to one another. The zinc and plastic covered stalls trapped the humidity, dust, sweat, smells and heat underneath it. I was lost among pirated clothes, shoes and handbags. After 15 minutes of wandering about, I began to wonder… Might have this been a horrid way to spend my free Sunday?

No. My head says.

I have to appreciate this time in Bangkok. It would’ve been a Sunday wasted, if I don’t explore. 

So, I pushed on. Wandering Chatuchak Market aimlessly, absorbing all of its chaos, I walked finally past the stalls of clothes and shoes, came to the stalls of souvenirs and ethic art, followed by food and furniture. Before long, I spotted stalls with pets.

How adorable.

As I continued to wander aimlessly, I found myself lost in the depths of the pets area of Chatuchak Market. There were domesticated animals (dogs and cats of all sorts), exotic animals (iguana, spider, fishes, tortoise, guinea pigs..) and animals I can’t even name! All were locked in tiny cages or tied tightly on a leash, fighting for air or space as passer-bys pointed and poked at potential pets. In that heat and humidity, I can only image how tortured the animals were… It was horrid sight! Completely disgusted! I wanted to get out of that area as quickly as possible.  

After 15 minutes of wandering the pet area, in search for a way out, I soon came to a main street, followed by the main entrance of Chatuchak Market.

It was 6pm, by the time I emerged out of the chaotic market maze, stalls started to pack up for closing.

That was enough excitement for today.

I made my way back to the hotel. 

Date: 24/3/2012 
Location: Jakarta, Indonesia

Jakarta was not as hot and humid as Bangkok, hovering around 30C in the afternoon and 27C at night. Leni, Tim and I found ourselves drenched in modern day’s natural sauna… the Mangga Dua market. 

It’s not just any market, Mangga Dua is known for its cheap and fake goods. There were 6 floors of tiny stores that were lined in a complicated maze and were stuffed to the brim with all sorts; clothes, shoes, bags, undergarments, belts, toys… you name it and this place has got it! 

Mangga Dua was also crowded with shoppers, both local and tourists. A local shop owner, curious of my origins, asked…

Dari mana, bu?  (Where from?)

Malaysia.  

Banyak orang Malaysia, Singapore datang sini. (Many Malaysians and Singaporeans come here.)

It’s no wonder I hear many who speak mandarin and cantonese.

Despite the heat and humidity, people slowly ambled along the narrow aisles, window-shopping as if it was a cool summer’s day. My London walking speed seemed like a bullet-train compared to other shopper’s snail pace. 

I resisted any shopping temptation, trying not to hoard while being on the road. Hauling a heavy luggage, from country to country, is no fun at all. On the other hand, Tim bought himself a whole new wardrobe. Leni helped with the bargaining, while I provided fashion advice (not that I’m a fashionista whatsoever). 

A couple of hours later, as soon as we bought everything TIm needed, we rushed out of Mangga Dua, took a taxi and headed towards another shopping centre, Taman Angrek, for lunch. 

Date: 15 March 2012 
Location: Central World, Bangkok, Thailand

Just before Owen, Alex and I went scouting for dinner, I had just watched Cookin’ Nanta, a Korean cooking musical. CS mentioned that if I ever made it to Seoul, I’ll have to watch this. Coincidently, I needn’t go to Seoul, the troupe was on their world-wide tour and this time they were performing in Bangkok.

It sounds like an odd combination, Korean + food + singing + dancing + acting. As odd as it maybe, I found myself laughing in my seat every other minute. Hardly any cooking, but a massacre of vegetables; loads of decimated cabbage, cucumbers, carrots and onions. It’s a Korean version of ‘Stomp’, but in the kitchen.

Owen and Alex chided me on how I spent our last night in Bangkok.

Should’ve gotten a pint.

Typical Brits. Anyhow, after the musical, we went hunting for food at Central World. Despite the late hour, almost 10pm, traffic in Bangkok remained horrendous. Thank goodness for their metro, MRT and BTS. We eventually headed off to the Thai restaurant at the Intercontinental. 

Date: 24/02/2012 
Location: Middle of the Desert, United Arab Emirates

I’m spoilt silly. Treated very much like a queen. Everyone opened and held doors. All my meals and drinks were paid for. Tours I’ve wished to join, we’re arranged promptly.

Initially, I was skeptical after hearing complaints from colleagues and reading Johann Hari’s article. Now, I’ve been charmed. I’ve been seduced. There’s an air of mystery and exoticism; woo-ing you to live in reckless indulgence. It’s all too easy to become dreamy and drunk on Dubai.

A desert safari was arranged for me; as a ‘personal’ reward for my week-long training sessions. The desert drive was a roller-coaster ride; flying and skidding over sand dunes, kicking up soft orange sand into the air like a sand fountain. The front seat, next to the driver, was reserved for me, had the best view and was least nauseating when maneuvering sand dunes.

Khalid, a mid 40s Pakistani-born Emirati, had been driving the dunes since he was in school. He drives the desert safari tours part-time and enjoys it tremendously. I didn’t understand why Khalid chooses such a career. It’s a landscape full of sand and not much else, sparing a handful of bushes. Nothing lives in the desert.

The few moments when Khalid parked his Land Cruiser to decompress and recompress its tires (smoother drive if 15psi less), 150 or so tourists posed, jumped, rolled, laid and admired the desert as the tour guides prepped the Land Cruisers. It was when I blocked out the laughter and chatter, I heard the quiet wind and watched it carry soft sand across the land. The soft wind quickly covered the foot prints behind me. I understood why.

The desert has a mysterious silence. An awkward peace, tempting and seducing us to be still and to be gradually engulfed by the desert. The vast and ever-evolving landscape, with its orange shapes and shadows, served as a reminder of how small and insignificant we are. That, like the foot prints, we make our mark in the world, only temporarily, before time sweeps it away.

Date: Summer of 2008

Location: King’s Cross, London, UK

I’ve recently watched the last Harry Potter film. My life is complete now. I’ve watched all the films and read all the books.

No. I’m not a Harry Potter fan, even though my brother looks like Harry Potter.

There’s something about watching a film and knowing its location. I’ve been through King’s Cross a gazillion times, when its shown in the film, it brings a whole different meaning to me. Not only it reminds me of the film, all my previous memories and its associated emotion surfaces too. Hard to describe.
Anyhow, there is a platform in King’s Cross I had visited years ago, where Platform 9 3/4 was replicated. The child in me laughed and screamed with glee when I saw it.

Now, most of King’s Cross is currently under renovation, in preparation for the 2012 Olympics. I’m not sure if Platform 9 3/4 exists.

Platform 9 3/4, King’s Cross on Flickr.

Date: 19/2/2012 Location: Dubai, United Arab Emirates

After resting a day (to recuperate from my jet lag) and a half day at the office (to get to know the area and the guys from the local office), I headed off to Burj Khalifa, world’s tallest building.

Jaya, the Dubai office manager, says that it’s mostly offices and the Armani hotel in the Burj. When tourists visit the area, they typically shop and dine in the Dubai Mall. Dubai Mall is the haven for shopper’s worldwide! Even the selection of restaurants is amazingly diverse! A short walk from the fountain into the mall, I spotted a Carluccio’s (only ever seen in London), a Social House (only seen in Jakarta) and a PF Chang’s (in Arizona).

Dubai Mall is diagonally opposite the Burj on the other side of Dubai Fountain. Dubai Fountain is twice, no, thrice the size of the Bellagio fountain in Las Vegas, USA. The musical fountain turns on at 6pm everyday and for every half hour.

Despite a commentary I’ve recently read of Dubai’s un-sustainability by Johann Hari, there’s a certain charm, an exotic and romantic air to the city. Looking forward to my Safari tour this weekend!