In Paradise it Pours

Having a bad day at work? Is the weather forecast reminiscent of "The Day After Tomorrow", your boss making you want to punch, if not them, then yourself in the face?

Well in this post may you find some solace. Through these weird pre winter months, gold tinted and cashmere coated by magazines and shop windows the UK over there are always the ‘dark days’. Days as pointless and unwelcoming as that space that no one can quite reach behind the fridge. Days when you idly dream of life in warmer climates, with longer days where you go from office to bar without even needing to remove your tights...because "what are tights?!" Well delete those images straight away. Because in paradise, its ‘rainy season’.

I won’t bore you with the scientific facts of rain, you all know how it works (and to be honest my interpretation would be a diagram drawn in geography at primary school). Just think, constant, heavy, and somehow still humid, rain. So when the days drag on and the tube is rammed, know that for once- you’ve actually got it good, nay, great. You may embrace this wintery weather with cosy clothes, wrap up warm for the walk from house to pub, where the worst that can happen to you is an endearing red nose which will convert to rosy cheeks as you set up camp by the fire with a roast and a glass of red and, if the pubs up to scratch, a politically incorrect game of scrabble. Save money with nights on the sofa comforted by pizza and a box set, drink tea that is not green. If these morsels of autumnal goodness are not enough, and the "extra winter layer" has taken hold a little sooner than you hoped, the end is not nigh as just over the horizon, with Pippa Middleton prepping the nation, lies the pre holiday holiday season. Kicking off with Halloween. The holiday that morphs with age from an innocent excuse to dress up and pitch up at strangers houses at night, to a less innocent excuse to dress up and pitch up at strangers houses at night.

Not your cup of tea? Well get your fill of X factor, have some bangers and mash and see the week through with the illuminating, heart warming knowledge that 5 days later its BONFIRE NIGHT Wellies, gloves, scarves, hats, fire, mulled wine, sparklers, fireworks, embarrassing dads, toffee apples, warm flattering skin by fire light.... I’m going to have to stop myself there, before I start a facebook event inviting people to our apartment on the 5^th to huddle around candles and bob for apples in the kitchen sink. (this might happen)

See its not all bad, good times are hiding at the end of the long weeks, and as I am cautious not to use the C word in October..."holidays are coming". So tactfully plan some sickies to get you through the rest of November, perfect your roast, devote to and then publicly dismiss reality TV and before you know it you’re over the final hurdle.



Bonfire night 20122 Mum Brother Me



setting the scene in the back garden

Apples bobbing

Back in Singapore we will sit out the rain finding comfort in the fact that the shops still follow western seasonal trends- yep that’s right, Zara is religiously displaying knee high boots, coats, hats and faux furs- the whole shebang, so we can still go and play dress up and pretend the leaves are browning. Failing that I’m going to go and take bark prints from palmtrees with orange and brown crayons.

So take my word, the grass is not always greener, its sometimes just wetter. I’m sure there are others in this neck of the woods echoing my sentiments. Therefore for the next few weeks I am going to make it my mission to find rain worthy activities to emmerse ourselves in in Singapore. We all need a little light at the end of the tunnel!

Speak Soon

XXX

Mini Milestones

Oopsies, I worte this post on Friday, but due to having a 'too long' long shower, almost missed our ferry to Indonesia so did not have time to publish it. So please attempt to read this babble through Friday eyes...

Doing my bit for the Singapore Road Network

We rounded off the weekend with a good old comfort Sunday, had a lie in, gymmed, bought unnecessary but ‘useful to have in the cupboard’ stuff at the supermarket (ground cumin?? I don't even know what a Cumin is), late lunch at the pub finished off by a cinema trip to see the Dictator. Thank god we did, because it has  been quite a hectic week

I must give you some prior warning this post is going to be rather scatty shambolic and incongruent, lacking both theme and/or structure. However I think this is ok as it accurately reflects my week, which is after all the point of this venture. So stick with it friends and I promise, if nothing else it will serve to make future posts seem far more professional.

Odd occurrences this week

Learning Chinese (sort of), Brad starting hockey, Brad prematurely retiring from hockey, Brad retaking up hockey, local lunches, and putting my fine blonde hair on the line braving a trip to a Singaporean hairdresser. You will be happy to know I am here to recount the events, in hopefully a not too lacklustre manner. (it is after all nearing the end of the day on Friday and we are off to Indonesia this evening for a spa retreat. GET ME THERE NOW)

Yao (Chinese for yes) I am on the road to bilingualism. It will however be a long and arduous journey. When I say I am learning Chinese, my mates Jen and Elyn at work are actually just giving me little phrases in Mandarin to learn to freak out the locals, thus far my repertoire includes yes, no and how much- useful in conversing at a)market stalls and b) with ladies of the night- apparently my Mandarin accent is far superior to my Cantonese, who knew! On the theme of my ongoing localisation, I have also gone for lunch with the girls from work a few times this week, it has been interesting to see what/ where/ how they eat on a day to day basis (Jen actually brought Brad and I some chopsticks back from Vietnam this week as a gift which was awesome, I’m now quite a dab hand, it only took me 2hrs 45 mins to eat my ham and cheese salad on Tuesday night). Food is a massive part of the culture here, but it turns out what and when they eat is very healthy- and trust me when the only implements you have are too large cocktail sticks you will soon cut down on the amount you shovel into you face. These are some of the lunches I tagged along to:

Beed, beansprout and noodle soup

Rice bean sprouts and vegetables

Grilled fish, veggies and rice.

Ok not strictly  a meal but some of the goodies Jen took back from Vietnam, some dried Mango and er, traditional Toblerone.

 Today we had an all out feast, Jay who sits with all of us girls (lucky boy) took us to a sort of back ally local food joint, ordered us a load of food and we just tried bits of everything, check out our little lunch time bonding sesh:

Don't be fooled by the smile, I don't really like rice. shhh

a vacuum packed cheesecake- just had to take a picture! 

In a ‘come dine with me’ esque twist Jay has offered to invite Brad and I round to eat with him and his wife next month where they will serve up an array of local delights and generally test us on our Singaporean immersion, I in turn offered to cook them a roast- he didn’t look so keen.

So my new idea... As an insight into the ‘Asian Diet’ and how these people stay so slim and live till about 300, I am going to (with the help of my local buddies) keep a food diary for a week of what they eat and drink on a day to day basis...I will also include how much of this I manage, and/or any side effects.

Wayfarering Wayfarer

Hockey and his team the Wayfarers, was a pretty big part of Brads life back in the UK, it provided the underpinnings of his social, sporting and drinking and cross dressing life- he was also pretty good. So since we have moved out to Singapore Brad has been asked to play at the Singapore cricket club. Great news, as some of his mates play there too. So as only Brad could, he met some guy on facebook who sells branded kit out of his car boot, arranged to meet him on Sunday afternoon, got fully kitted out and went to his first training session on Tuesday night.

GOOD GOD IT AGED HIM

Since returning from Hockey on Tuesday evening, Brad has not been able to sit, stand, walk and as he tries to claim, feed himself unaided. Mystifying. Brad has been pretty active since we got here utilising our fancy in house gym, but apparently running around in the sweltering heat chasing a ball is all new levels of physical exertion. Hopefully he will acclimatise, if not he may have to take up bridge.

Cautious Colouring

There are many horror stories floating around expatville regarding local hairdressers and blonde highlights. It is not because they are not good it is just that Asian and Caucasian hair are very different (well observed Sian) in every way imaginable, strength, growth rate, durability (if that is a hair term) and pigmentation. Woven highlights as us lighter haired ladies know, are essential to achieve that, “oh my hair just goes light in the sun” look. So I let my roots grow out for 6 weeks, normally not an issue, but as my hair is growing at beastlike rates in the sun overhear, I was well overdue a touch up. I was referred quite a few good hairdressers by fellow blondies but they can be very expensive, seriously, like $700 for a full head (about 350 quid) and unless they are planning on resurrecting Vidal Sasson himself to cut and colour my locks, I am not parting with that kind of cash, for a maybe ok result. So after careful consideration and cost calculation, I threw caution to the wind and booked an appointment at the hairdresser nearest my house. 1) Because I’m a daredevil lazy and 2) Choice confuses me. Last night I took the plunge.

You will look like a div wherever you get your hair done. fact. 

Fortunately it turned out great, Gary from Malaysia was trendier than my right arm and looked like he had been blown over from Brick Lane, got the foils out and everything (I was half expecting the old cap and hook) He did a diligent and professional Job AND did not feel the need to comment on how dry my hair was. Gary got a tip. Also two absolutely cracking ideas that UK hairdressers could do with implementing 1) Ipads to play with at all of the chairs, makes whiling away the hours much more bearable. 2) LIE DOWN HAIR WASHING CHAIRS. This was incredible, instead of those achey neck sado-massacist torture chairs they use in UK hair salons, they have a sort of lie down bed that your legs dangle off and your head lies flat in a sink. Hair washing heaven.

the results. sorry it could do with a wash.

For any Expats reading this, I went to Mode in the Marina Link Mall check out the website here: Mode Hair Gallery

All in all it has been a pretty normal, yet somehow eventful week. Anyway I must run as I need to pack for Indonesia, I couldn’t do it this morning as our cleaner got my wardrobe stuck closed, I wasted enough time having a strop in my pants panicking about what to wear to work to plan ahead. Lots of photos to come!

Aw crap, I haven’t learnt the Chinese for Bye yet, so errr. Bye.

XXX

An Education

Another weekend of culinary and cultural delights, but this time I've decided to get deep (ish)

More on this man in a min 

Singapore, as we know it today, is not all that old. Gaining independence in 1965 this world we have emerged ourselves in is pretty shiny and new, to the extent where most high-rises are ripped down and rebuilt after 5 years and cars over 10 years old are banned. However its not all high flyers and trophy wives (or Titis as they are known here), like the residential streets of Clapham you can still find a stark clash of cultures, they just don't show it on the postcards. Behind its pristine glass and marble facade there are still the underpinnings of local traditions, in the form of food (at the Hawker markets) Architecture (streets of listed buildings) and the language often being spoken within earshot. 

This got me thinking, is there much history around us at all that we are actually exposed to every day but are completely ignorant to it? Well my friends over the next few weeks I aim to find out, I will try to google the places I go in a semi-educational exposé of modern Singapore, and in turn you can add these little factoids to your pub quiz arsenal. Deal?

My Mate Jim

After a long week at work, interrupted by the Dr experience, I was very much looking forward to Friday night. About 16 of us were going for a big group meal at a Thai restaurant called Jim Thompson. It was a great group, we didn't all know each other but all had mutual friends so we were all chatting away happily. The cocktail list was thicker than the menu, to the extent where after finally settling on a Lychee Daquiri (Icey alcoholic dreams) I didn't even make it past the Starters page. I did however learn that Goong means prawn, you know your on safe ground (if you like prawns) when the miscellaneous Thai food has 'Goong' in the title. 

This Little lady threw some shapes

By the end of the evening, in proper playground style, we had split into a boys table and a girls table, where we remained until long after the restaurant closed. We discussed gellish, cocktail bars and ladies nights...I wouldn't be surprised if the boys did too. 

The Restaurant itself was beautiful, we sat outside submerged in serene surroundings of linen sashes, human sized birdcages, traditional dancers, and water features. The food was traditional thai munch with a contrast of funky modern glasses distracting from the potency of the cocktails, and food arrived in silverware straight from Aladdin's cave.

(Pictures courtesy of jarofsalt because, well, I forgot)

Curry fishcakes, i didn't have these because they didn't have Goong in the title.

He dead

I want one of these for my cereal

This is how all Curry's should come!

Lychee Martini (not a candle)

So who is Jim?

I asked this very question in the restaurant, in my naivety I though 'Jim Thompson' was a very odd name for a Thai restaurant. Turns out I couldn't have been more wrong. 

In the same boat? You may know the film 'The King and I'? well then you're sort of half way there...

Jim Thompson was an American architect and retired army officer who breathed new life and revitalized Thailand’s silk industry but one day just vanished of the face of the earth. Jim's post-war contributions to Thailand are pretty big time, giving women a chance to weave from home and raising people out of poverty after establishing the Thai Silk Company. His biggest breakthrough came in the form of the musical by Rogers and Hammerstein, “The King And I” where costumes were created out of Jim Thompsons’s jewel-toned hand-woven fabrics.

According to Wikipedia (valued source) Thompson visited friends in Cameron Highlands one day to stay at the Moonlight Bungalow. Then on Easter Sunday in 1967, he heads outdoors to take an afternoon stroll. He never came back. The Mystery has never been solved.


So boys and girls next time you buy a beautiful Thai silk scarf, tie or any other silk garments you sway towards....you know who to thank.

Some of Jimmy T's Fineries 

...

On that Cryptic note, I'm off. We have a proper sunday lined up, Super market, Gym, Cinema. Struggling to get out of bed so time to blare some tunes through our snazzy new internet TV (we have become proper Asian Techno Geeks) here's a tune below to get you out of bed.

Happy Sunday, 5 days till the weekend!

XXX

"Good Expatting"

I have to be honest with you, it's been a pretty boozy weekend. Friday night was proper Chinese night, with European quantities of red wine to accompany it, Saturday morning we went to Switzerland (sort of) with Mr Ong our landlord  followed promptly by Lunch with a good friend of Brads and his girlfriend at an Aussie bar  which promptly descended into a 'day sesh'. We set up camp for the next 8 hours to devour 3 Rugby Games and several bottles of Gin. Ouch. 

Fortunately it is sunny today, because we are good for nothing bar lounging by the pool and attempting to return some colour to our greying hangover faces. Red will do. 

Return of Mr Ong

Those of you who have followed our journey so far will be familiar with the great man him self, Mr Ong. Our landlord who treated us to gifts and showed us around the local area on move in day, when we moved in Mr Ong said he would like to take us for brunch once we had settled in. True to his word, this saturday Mr Ong treated us to not only a culinary, but a cultural extravaganza, and all at 10 in the morning. 

We met him in a shopping mall, pretty standard practice here as everything is in air-conditioned malls, outside what looked like a bakery stall adorned with a visually stimulating array of pastries, breads, cakes and quiches. However this was just the tip of the ice berg. As we descended down the stairs we were submerged into an alpine chalet, complete with folky swiss music playing, mountainous landscape painted on the walls, and Asian staff, fully decked out in laderhosen and milkmaid costumes. When Ong does Brunch he doesn't hold back. Short of actually flying us to Europe he found the most quintessentially European spot in Singapore, and through tapping into our senses transported us on a mid morning trip to the Alps.

There was an achingly vast choice of food options ranging from continental breakfast to cakes, rosti and jacket potatoes. When you are a bit hangover this is near on impossible. Eventually I played it safe with a poached egg and orange juice. Brad simulated the appetite one might build after a full days skiing and got involved with eggs bennedict, coffee, water melon juice and a Chilli Con Carne baked potato...ah well when in Rome.

I tried to take a few snaps but got told off by a grumpy looking Asian in Lederhosen, I don't think he was enjoying the morning shift, hopefully they will do it justice.

I'm not entirely sure why they had rustled up a spanish paella at breakfast time, but what the heck, it smelt good.

Brad hadn't found any potatoes in supermarkets, He was literally in spud heaven

couple of cakes they knocked up 

Bread, obviously. 

Sour Plum juice, I thought it was a mojito- let down.

'Rustic"

More like it

should have come in Ski boots

These naughty cows were poking their heads through the window, in a cubicle in the ladies loos. Cows wouldn't get away with such lewd behaviour in the UK

Ong's Ride

Steady Decline

After Brunch (and a post brunch power nap) we headed off to meet Brad's friend Will and his girlfriend. The day was about to take a dramatic turn. They all got stuck into lunch but I was still a bit full from brunch so declined, having a bloody Mary instead, a decision which probably played a major role in my downfall.

At 5 0'clock by mutual consent we had ordered our first bottle of Gin, justifying this move as its probably cheaper, and service is pretty slow here so we would, er, remain hydrated. The games soon began (oh and I think there was some Rugby on too)

Death by Gin

At the table that would be the base camp of our decent Brad and I were introduced to a new concept, a concept that will now become our mantra. That concept? "GOOD EXPATTING"

As Will would go onto explain 'Good Expatting' can be declared when an expatriate indulges in extravagant or just generally very western behaviour, for the purposes of convenience or amusement. I shall give you an example from a situation you have already been exposed to; The wine in the restaurant last night was not being served fast enough, so we took it upon ourselves to administer the wine, thus "good expatting". A more elaborate yet brilliant example was that of a guy who went to Indonesia to play golf last week. He brought 2 caddies, one to carry his clubs, and one to carry his chair. Textbook "Good Expatting" I shall endeavour to highlight all episodes of good expatting from here on out. 

my new best friend, oh how you betrayed me

Further into the evening I was regretting not eating so asked if they served olives (essential for stamina) excited when they said yes, you can imagine my disappointment when this is what got placed in front of me. I can only presume they thought the olives were for my drink.

After a solid 8 hours we were very ready to go home. An incredible drinking game I was introduced to which I would like to share with the world is 'The Accent Game" I have heard a few versions of this in the past, but this took the biscuit. The Rules: There is 1 phrase you must say. You cannot Ad-lib or practice out loud. After everyone has attempted the phrase in the chosen accent, on the count of 3 the group must point to the worst 'accent doer'. They then drink and proceed to choose the next accent. The Phrase: "I WOULD LIKE HALF A POUND OF BACON PLEASE".... genius.

...

Feeling slightly less hungover, however a little on the pink side from a day in the sun, a healthy week is definitely on the cards. I managed to squeeze in a gym sesh today so hopefully I can maintain the momentum throughout the week, if you don't receive a progress report, I failed.

Hope you all had good weekends too. 5 days 'til Friday!

Speak Soon

XXX

Doing Chinese like the Chinese do

My first experience of Chinese (food) in Singapore was NOT one to be repeated. It was from a hawker market and even thinking about makes me want to sick in my mouth a bit. I boldly ordered what looked like Teriyaki Chicken and green beans, thinking this was a safe bet. What a fool. I don't think there was any part of that chicken left out of my meal, everything, innards, skin, feet you name it, it was hidden in there drowning in sauce, and the one saving grace- the green beans, turned out to be spring onions. Massive Fail.

Hawker market 1- Sian 0

Due to this experience I was understandably sceptical about Chinese food round 2, when we got invited out by friends of Brads. Fortunately it was a dramatically different experience. We met up with Brads friend and his wife at a Restaurant after work on Friday night, I clocked a McDonalds on the way there incase a similar sequence of events would unfold. My spirits were lifted and expectations raised by the glass of champagne at the bar on arrival- maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

The Restaurant's signature dish was the peking duck (also the restaurants name) and it was the first place I have been to where it is not served all puled apart by forks on a plate.

This is what comes first, really crispy duck skin which you dip into sugar and plum sauce.
Due to my lack of chopstick prowess, I only got one bit :(
need to work on my skills, think i'll practice next weekend with grains of rice.

Once you have eaten the ducks skin (or in my case prodded at it with 2 sticks) the whole pancake shabazz begins which we are most familiar with.I am not actually a big duck fan but they cook and present it beautifully so i gave it a whirl. Not bad China, not bad, I will eat this again.

The duck didn't finish there. When the rest of the meal was brought to the table a typical mix match of meat and fish dishes, the rest of the duck (I dread to think how big it was) was prepared on the bone in a sauce with ginger and pak choy. Waste not want not. Again I struggled to get fully involved due to my amateur chopsticking, I am however a dab hand at poring wine, so after clocking the waitresses unacceptably slow refill pace, I releived her of this duty and took it upon myself to keep us all (myself) topped up. I blame Saturday mornings hangover on the fact I did not have a fork. From now on I will carry my own fork.

I will continue to update on the rest of the weekends events, but in the meantime I strongly recommend finding your nearest Chinese restaurant that serves duck this way, preorder a whole one and book a massive table. Oh and bring your own cutlery.

Random Fact: Here they refer to an unprepared chicken breast in a supermarket as "chicken with hormones" If ever you find yourself in a situation similar to I did where they ask if you would like your chicken "with or without hormones" go with a firm "No" do not let curiosity get the better of you.

Speak soon

XXX