found: valentine's gifts

found: valentine's gifts

While looking for some ribbons and stickers, I opened up old boxes and found cards, letters and various mementos that I've collected over the years.  These are the Valentine's Day gifts I've received from G over the years, each one with its own story.

2009.

2009 - our first Valentine's together. A sleek black box, labeled Angel. He told me about the days he spent in Germany, where he walked as a lonely man on the streets when he found this. Jumper and Angel came in a pair, and he bought them both, knowing some day he'll find someone for Angel. He did.

2010.

2010 - our second Valentine's together, but away. A long red envelope, addressed to me. I waited and waited, running across the small apartment to the door each time I heard the postman's footsteps. It was a white Valentine's in Montreal, beautiful but lonely. He asked "Do you know how much I love you?" I do. 

2011.

2011 - our third Valentine's together, again. An old brown box, yellowing with age. It said "G, give this to the woman you love." A story from sometime long ago, before I knew him. Deutschland encore, a special person in his life made a prophecy about us. He gave it to the woman he loves.

Maybe, I could have loved you before I met you. 

good morning indeed!

good morning indeed!

So, one rare morning, I woke up feeling totally refreshed at the unearthly hour of 830am despite going to bed some 4 hours before and suddenly found myself with too much time to spare. I spent a good 15mins in bed texting everyone GOOD MORNING WORLD! Just because I was awake.

Wow, good morning. It's been awhile since I've actually experienced this thing called morning. My brain went into overdrive. What do we do with mornings?? A brilliant idea struck me - let's get some exercise in the morning sun! Cycle to the lake, breathe in some fresh air, say hi to random folks and then drop by the mall to grab some healthy ingredients for a wholesome brunch!

That, of course, was only the plan. What really happened was this: I wobbled my way to the lake on the too-big bike, narrowly missed a few pedestrians and grinned like a Cheshire cat when I finally reached the park, where there is no traffic. Except there was. Old couples in wheelchairs took up most of the pavement, and of course I swerved to give way, with a big gracious smile. Since I was busy smiling, I didn't quite realize where I was headed towards.

Eventually, I found out that I was on the grass patch. No biggie, I'd just cut across the short distance to the pavement again. But the bike didn't seem to move very much despite my most strenuous pedaling! Of course, this was some nature park and I was stuck in some marshy fauna area. What the hell is a fauna area anyway?! Well, let me tell you, it's just an innocent looking patch of grass that's a freaking mud pool in disguise.

Never mind, we'll still have a GOOD MORNING. So I ventured onward to the boardwalk to enjoy the view. All's good. Time to wobble home. And wobble did I. I wobbled and fell because this woman was sitting in the middle of the pavement practising her catnap skills. I guess that was the final straw for my poor bike. It refused to budge another inch!

So I stood there, dumbfounded, grease on my hands from trying to fix the bike, mud on my feet from trying to save the world, grinning like an idiot at my own stupid predicament. And then I heard the bombs. The tree I was standing under apparently made the best toilet for the birds!

Nothing like running away from bird shit to start a girl off on her 3km walk home with a broken bike. Oh, mornings!

of elevens

of elevens

The music is too loud, we complain. We are getting too old, we concede. The night is still young, we concur.

Moscato wine from the bottle, favourite place by the river, eleven our magic number.

High and giggly from all the alcohol, we stroll along the skyline of our city, humming softly. The urban fireflies dot the skies, stars in the background. Why did they say the city is not made for love? We are. And that's quite enough.

We feel young and almighty, the weight of the skyscrapers light as feather. We make pacts for the future and get lost in the present moment. A lie is a cooperative act, but we speak only the truth. Your reputation precedes you, but I say love precedes us. And it'll be here a long time after we're gone.

Do you believe in absolute truths, I ask. Nothing about this moment is real. We live in our construction. We construct us. We create the world in our imagination.

Some time in history, light years ago, in a form different from what I am now, I imagined this moment.

Eleventh of the eleventh, eleventh of the eleventh of the eleventh.

(This word begins to look like an elephant. Maybe I'm a little drunk. Incoherent poetry for those who live in dreams. Postmodern. But I digress.)

11:11. 11/11/11. One and one, always a pair, never alone. Isn't that what everyone wishes for?

Happy 11th, my wish-came-true.

nostalgia is a strange feeling

nostalgia is a strange feeling

It's 1am and I pick up my phone to see a missed call from G. I call back, and a sleepy voice mumbles, "Good night, babe." Only our daily phone call, but it feels like I've missed something much bigger, like my night can't find closure.

So I pick up the new card that arrived in the mail and examine my own face. The long side-swept bangs, the yellow glow of the light, the turquoise top that I don't wear anymore. 2 years ago, an afternoon in hall, a chore to complete. I remember sitting in front of my laptop, arranging my fringe, angling my face for that photo.

I looked so young.

And then a flash of memory of me in a crowded room, too warm in my thick winter coat indoors, queuing to have my photo taken. Montreal, a shopping mall whose name I forget. I had to get my metro card done. But the image that comes to mind turns out to be the face on my McGill ID card.

McGill. Late winter, early spring. The air was still cold, some days chilly, some days biting cold. I was walking up the never-ending hill, panting when I finally reached where Rue Peel meets Pine Avenue. Another evening, another gym session, already a routine. Then the hike across the frozen field to get to Italian film class, where I'd always fall asleep, snug and warm after the workout and the walk in the cold.

I can almost smell the sweet scent of the first leaves and savour the surprise of the late April snow now. Rue Peel still meets Pine Avenue, like always. It's just me who took a different turn one day and never looked back. If roads have hearts by virtue of having a name, I wonder if they miss me, like an old friend whose name they forget.

Nostalgia, it's a strange feeling. I remember the heartaches and the homesickness of those days too. But I would be there again in a heartbeat, back at the same spot, the same song playing on my iPod. Because that's how nostalgia tastes, bittersweet.

how iPhone changed my life

how iPhone changed my life

So I haven't been blogging much, again. But this time, unlike previous times, I don't quite feel the need to update. That's really quite unusual for a narcissistic social media addict like me! Haha.

Here's what happened - I got an iPhone. I don't wanna sound like an Apple whore, but I gotta confess I was rather excited when I got the phone. Maybe delirious is the right word. G can testify.

That's me at the unboxing ceremony of my iPhone.

I don't know how it works for other iPhone users/lovers, but what happened for me was that I was suddenly armed with a smart phone with a great camera and access to all the social media world! And the best part is, this smart phone doesn't make ME feel stupid! I actually know how to use all the functions I'd like to use. WOW.

Oh and then there's the whole galaxy of apps that allows me to constantly update the world on the perfect or epic moments in my life INSTANTANEOUSLY. You don't even need a story, a theme or any sort of coherence. You just need one line, one photo. And the best part is that it's INTERACTIVE. Your friends can comment and reply with such ease and it easily turns into a whole conversation! Yes, I think I've been sucked into the black hole of micro-blogging.

So this is how a typical one-liner update would look like:

Lovely weekend it's been! U-Town tour with G, random catch-up's with
friends thousands of miles away, time spent at home. 

Being connected to the world 24/7 also changed the way I spend time online. My first days of blogging coincided with the first days of Facebook, I think. Back then it meant that blogs were still the best ways to share photos, stories and other random facts about life. It also meant having to sit down at my now ancient computer every night, wait for the photos to load one by one while I rant away on the keyboard.

When I got my MacBook in uni, I was amazed at how connected I was because I was always using my Mac in school. So, can you imagine what the iPhone did to me?? I don't even feel the need to turn on my Mac every night!

And even as I type this, I'm tapping with two thumbs and not ten fingers, on the Blogger app while the train takes me to school. So who knows, maybe blogging in the train might just be my new favorite pastime, quite literally a way to pass my time!

Just watch this space. (:

p/s: Okay so I realized that I can't really figure out how to upload and arrange photos on this app. Hahaha back to the MacBook it is!

22

22

22 is the year of catch-up’s. It’s the year G graduates and I spend the first week of the second half missing him. 22 is too old to make friends, but not too old to find old friends. I rekindle friendships, find new lunch/study buddies, step out of my bubble.

22 is the year I have my first taste of corporate life and find that I actually like it. It’s the year I end my internship and G starts on his first job, a short getaway in between, the last summer for awhile. I look towards the CBD from school and find myself looking forward, wanting to catch up with G.

22 is the year I reconnect with old friends with whom I’ve lost touch. Social media doesn’t really allow you to lose touch completely, but browsing through pictures of familiar faces isn’t quite the same as a “Hello, how have you been?”. We drop the arrogance of neverending tomorrow’s and make time to meet up for a drink, a hug, a “I missed you too”.

22 is the year before the future. In the future we’ll all be holding real jobs, driving our own cars, wearing wedding bands and living in new flats. In the future we will still be the kids we are today, goofy and corny, laughing about those nights we spend sharing our hopes and worries about this future that we will be living.

22 is a good, good year.

the end of summer

the end of summer

3 weeks into summer and I realize that this is the last long summer holiday that I'll ever have. Penultimate year. Internships. Friends and boyfriend graduating. Other friends going away while time allows for long trips. I'm slowly beginning to realize that life only gets faster from here. There'd be no more lazy weekday afternoons for shopping, swimming and just hanging out; no more waking up at noon everyday; no more having the whole day to yourself, just watching Gossip Girl and reading a book.

For most of my life, each year has always been marked with a long summer break. A time for us to take stock of the first half of the year. A time for us to chill and find drive for the next half of the year. A time when days melt into one another and summer becomes one long hazy memory that's so mellow and sweet, like the dollop of honey that goes a long way in sweetening your cup of tea.

This summer, I found myself industriously hunting for an internship and when I finally land myself with one, I feel like someone stole my jar of honey - summer's cut short. No more languid afternoons. No more spontaneous day trips. No more "let's just pack up and leave" attitude.

Now I think I'm beginning to understand why people just quit their jobs and become wayfarers for awhile. It's because they've kept summer in their hearts all along. I hope I will too, when I finally leave school next summer.

double deux

double deux

I was actually going to blog about my birthday celebrations on time, but I was waiting and waiting for that birthday dimsum with my family, which never quite happened because we couldn't find a free day! We even postponed it all the way to late April, so that Mommy and I can celebrate together with my brother, but even then, we couldn't find find a good Sunday morning to do dimsum! I think we're waiting for my dad's birthday now, which is in September. Hahaha. Fingers crossed. But before you go away tsktsktsking at what a terrible modern busy family we are, let me assure you we've had countless dinners together, enough to celebrate 10 times over. :D

So anyway, because I love celebrating birthdays, I've had 3 celebrations this year! :D

On the day itself, with Glenn: 

Check out the wall murals and G's birthday card for me. 

Fake lomo. Hahaha.

We headed to Greenwood Avenue for the famous pizza, and boy, was it worth getting lost for awhile! I thought it was unnecessary to make reservations for a weekday night, but it turned out that I was completely wrong. The place was packed, even at 8pm! So we hung around, and played the "Shall we be nuts and order the largest pizza?" game before we got a table and decided not to. Haha. But one day I will go back and have that hugeass pizza, I SIMPLY MUST!

Over the weekend, I celebrated with some of my oldest friends:

Dinner at the underlit Overeasy.

Lovely skyline calls for a long stroll and many photos.

The girls (and boys) and I had breakfast food for dinner at Overeasy, One Fullerton. Not a bad place, with an awesome view of the MBS! It was so dim inside that if I weren't such a breakfast food lover who cannot wake up in the morning, I'd have had a hard time convincing my stomach to down the breakfast platter. I love how the girls managed to get me a cake in secret!

The next day, a very late brunch with my touch girls:

Finally, happily seated.

Really, who needs dinner food??

 

  Camwhore in the ladies!

I really, really wish Wild Honey would take reservations because the queue is CRAZY long. Bless Nana for reaching early to get us a place in the queue. It was my first time at Wild Honey, and honestly we waited close to 2 hours for a table and no surprise, yours truly wasn't very pleased, so I gave them the dagger eyes while Karen smiled her ever-so-charming smile and somehow they presented the birthday girl with a birthday cake on the house on top of some complimentary muffins they served to prevent us from fainting from hunger. In conclusion? We had a lovely, lovely taitai brunch! I totally want to be doing this 10 years down the road still. :D

So yes, I did have a very, very happy birthday. (And yes, I am still waiting for that family birthday dimsum meal to materialize come September. Haha.)

macbeth in the park

macbeth in the park

Macbeth in the park was the first thing I did to celebrate the end of third year in university! It's the best way to kickstart summer. (Even though neither internship nor holiday is confirmed. Haha.)

As you know, I've always loved picnics and all things artsy fartsy, so Shakespeare in the Park was probably one of the best thing that could happen in Singapore for me. I was pretty bumped about missing the previous one, A Midsummer Night's Dream, so I was all hyped up when Shan asked me if I wanted to catch Macbeth!

We were blessed with great weather, especially considering that it'd been raining almost every other afternoon. The evening was breezy and cool, although the climb of 1345 steps to Fort Canning was anything but that. When we finally got to Fort Canning Park, boy, were we glad to be finally nestling on our mat, drinking Moscato from the bottle and munching on sandwiches from Provence. We thought our picnic was thrashing everyone else's, until we saw people drinking champagne from proper glasses. Dammit!

I think Macbeth is showing till the 22nd, so go catch it if you'd like a picnic with Shakespeare too! Just take the route that starts behind the national museum. Where there are escalators that will spare you the torturous climb.

I left my heart and soul…

i left my heart and soul...


New York. Montreal. Paris. Rome. Venice. Santorini. Amsterdam. London. Glasgow. I think I left my heart and soul all over the world. It’s been three weeks, and every other night I find myself dreaming of all these places, dreaming up new homes that could have been or better still, could be, sometime in the near future.

It’s a funny notion though. Home was always been a fixed entity to me. But in the past year, I’ve spent nights in so many different rooms, slept on so many different beds and called 2 cities in separate continents home.

I miss the complete freedom I had in Montreal. Living alone and arranging everything around nobody else but me was liberating. I decide when I want to do the laundry. I decide what time I want to go to bed. I decide that I can have breakfast food for lunch everyday. I decide that I can live alone.

I loved the one-month old home we had in Glasgow. The long, long evenings, the daily walks along the river, the colds nights of us falling asleep next to each other, and then the simple act of drawing the blinds up in the morning. The redundancy of scheduling dates because we come home to each other. The thought of us, just us, living and building a life in another part of the world.

And then there were those days where we fall asleep in one city and wake up in another the next day. Those were the days where we live and breathe a whole new culture every single day. Those were the days we stood shoulder-to-shoulder on an unknown street corner, trying to read an unfamiliar map.

Those were the days… And now, back in Singapore, all I really want to do is to dive right back into those gorgeous photographs and relive those moments. Slowly, I find myself looking at cities in which we might build ourselves a home. Suddenly, I can’t wait to grow up. I can't wait to pack up all over again and find those pieces of my heart.

I don’t know if they’ll call this widening your horizons or withdrawal. I’d call it finding a new dream.

one big family

one big family

Glenn's little sister turns 18.

This is how it is at every celebration with Glenn's family - everyone takes time off and comes together. This is when I start to miss home and family - grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. This is when I realize... big groups are nightmares for waiters-turned-photographers - I don't understand how the waiter missed Glenn altogether TWICE; he was sitting on the far right, NEAREST to the waiter. So I photoshopped him in. Hahaha.

on my turf

on my turf

The people living in the west of Singapore are always complaining about the lack of good food. We don't have Katong Laksa, Changi Village, Bedok Bak Chor Mee, Geylang street food and Pulau Ubin Monkey Brains. We are always venturing to the far ends of Singapore, scouring the island for food, food and more food. Sometimes all we want is a nice little restaurant, tucked away from the crowd, and have a lazy weekend brunch or a romantic dinner. But the west side is a mass of HDBs with no such things! Unless you count my favourite Jurong Point. Hahaha.

Since the girls came back, we've been hanging out in our hood alot. We've discovered some real kickass hideout's, on par with Dempsey and Geylang. From all-day brunches to full-course dinners, the west side has 'em all! The touch girls will love this list because most of the restaurants are actually near Turf City - therefore my cheesy title. Hahaha. Please excuse me. And I was really kidding about the monkey brains.

Picotin - Turf Club Road.

Kais had her 21st birthday dinner here, and all of us loved the ambience. The bird cage lampshades really got me. The food was pretty good, with impeccable service. Perfect for avoiding town crowds during the holidays!

Hatched - Evans Lodge.

This cute little place serves ALL DAY BREAKFAST, EVERYDAY. I love it to death. My one pleasure living in Canada was being able to eat homemade (okay, self-made) breakfast at any hour of the day. I also fell in love with eggs, cooked various styles. You can see why Hatched is my kind of place. And the price is a real steal because there's no GST and service charge! One last thing - they have the best mash ever. It's the white lump of thing in the food photo, second from the left. Must. Eat.

Durian Place - near 6th Avenue, along the main Bt. Timah Road.

You will not miss this place when you drive along Bt. Timah Road. It's near the stretch with Ritz Apple Strudel and the Salvatore Italian restaurant. They have Mao Shan Wang and D24 and all kinds of durians and other fruits that you can imagine. And they even have hand shields for you to eat the durian with! Hahaha. The Mao Shan Wang was the price of dinner for 3 at Hatched, but totally worth the money.

Rider's Cafe - Saddler's Club, Eng Neo Avenue.

All the jokes about having to bring your passport when you travel to the West? They must be talking about all the rustic countryside charm. We felt like we were taking a mini road trip driving into Fairway Road, where Rider's Cafe is! Lovely scenery, huge portions of food. I will get up early enough one day to try their famous breakfast menu. Look out for horses sauntering right below the balcony, and the wafts of their manure that might come through in the breezes!

Whoever said there are no nice dining options in the west again?

girls are home

girls are home

I love how easily we fall together every time we meet, each time 6 months apart.

This friendship is so good, so good.

falling for you

falling for you

Why I fell for G - too much food at Marché.

I spent this Valentine's being late, setting a new record for speed-shopping for presents and ogling at Natalie Portman at Black Swan. Later in the evening, I made sure Glenn remembered this day well and good - I broke my good old sturdy swivel chair while leaning in to give him a kiss, and fell onto the floor with a loud "blop!". He broke out in fits of laughter while I tried to glare at him. Yeahyeah, a very romantic Valentine's Day to you too.

I remember Hamburg

I remember Hamburg

I remember Hamburg. And I want to write a song, or a story, so that you will remember Hamburg as I do.

The strange woman we kept running into, in her queer dress. It wasn't loud and flamboyant, nor was it anything striking to remember by. It was stark and stern, her face without a smile. We were placing our orders by a roadside cafe, smiling and gesturing to the waitress who didn't speak the same language. The strange woman was tall and alone, marching on with her eyes set on a horizon we couldn't see. I remember her roaming the streets of Hamburg. I remember my backward glance at her as she walked on. I remember Hamburg.

The blue lake with its white boats. The blue sky with its white clouds. We talked and laughed and built castles in the sky. You held my hand and I smiled in secret, dropping a coin on the pavement, making a wish by my own tradition. I close my eyes now and I can feel the German breeze in my face and hear the song of ducks splashing in the water. Small white petals floating in the air, dancing, like fairy dusts, like it was snowing in spring. I remember my fascination and endless questions. I remember you laughing. I remember Hamburg.

The dark, Gothic buildings looming on the opposite shore, beckoning. Landmarks of a strange land. It was a destination, a terminus for tourists on a pilgrimage. It was a long walk around the lake. We stopped for pictures, framing the city as we remember it. The buildings have names and stories, but I don't quite remember them. Yet I remember the pair of friends who walked by as we crossed empty streets to get to the aged cathedrals. I remember being the only ones in the quadrangle, as if Hamburg belonged to us. I remember Hamburg.

The bright orange that decked the streets, people cheering. 11pm and the sky was still bright. It was a nation at war, eleven warriors in black against eleven others. We marveled at the roar of the city. I bought a flag, striped black, orange and yellow, an emblem of my transient loyalty. You holler with the boys, the patriots, the vagabonds and the uniformed men. I remember the old gentleman, with his white hair, black suit and brown walking stick, smiling with a gap in his teeth and wrinkles around his mouth as we gave our seat to him. I remember the Ghanaian on the subway, the loner wayfarer in a foreign land, standing by his homeland. I remember the rest of Hamburg smiling at him, a city celebrating its country's victory, embracing all who have come to Hamburg. I remember Hamburg.

I remember Hamburg. Do you?

happy CNY 兔 you!

happy CNY 兔 you!

Reunion steamboat at home. (Beginnings of overeating)

Reason for overeating. CHECK OUT THOSE CUTE RABBITS! Mommy made them by hand, from scratch!

Culinary queen at work.

The task of doing up the house falls to me every year (under Mommy's supervision of course, but let me claim whatever credit I can, please. There really isn't much. Hahaha). I really quite enjoy putting the red stuffs all around the house!

Always a time for family and friends. And angpaos! :D

Happy CNY 兔 you!

skies from my window

skies from my window

Recently, the nation seems to have picked up kite-flying. The sky outside my window is often decorated with specks of colours and flickering lights. I love it. I often spend long moments just staring at them, sometimes snapping photos with my camera on the window ledge, probably looking like a peeping tom to my neighbours. :D

Hand-held butterflies.

Urban fireflies.

Post-script: The pictures do not do the scene justice at all! ):

pompeii: italy/singapore

pompeii: italy/singapore

Entrance to the exhibit. That's a dog contorted in its final moments of death.

Glenn and I had a very intellectual date the other day - we went to the museum, again! This time, we didn't just decide to go because we've never been before; we went to see a specific exhibit - Pompeii, Life in a Roman Town 79CE. I whipped out my phone and dialed Glenn's number the moment I read about it in the papers. How could we travel a gazillion miles to Pompeii (and miss its museum) AND miss this exhibit now that the mummies travel the gazillion miles for us?? We have to go!

The prettiest hostel we stayed at, which is right beside a super scary old church with a sealed entrance. Hostelworld described the landmark as a "little red church". Imagine my shock.

We had to take a million trains and subways and more regional trains to get there. Pompeii is near the Italian city of Naples btw. And have I mentioned we missed our last train back and had to take a cranky old bus which took 2 hours on cobbled streets and then WALK back to the hostel at 1am? It was mad scary cos Naples isn't exactly the safest city in the world and the fact that the police didn't speak English didn't help. In fact, I was so scared at one point I almost screamed and wanted to pick up an empty beer bottle along the roadside for fear of the drunkard across the street rushing over to rob us or something! This is why you stick with the boy even though at some points you feel like jumping off the moving train. And I apologise for the exceptionally long caption. Hahaha. One gets carried away with travel tales.

Authentic Italian food (for tourists) to start our day (at Pompeii, if you're confused by now Haha).

So after much planning, we re-visited Pompeii some 6 months after our actual experience of the Roman city which was completely buried by the first Plinian volcanic eruption (or the first that was so named) within 24 hours. The pyroclastic flow happened so fast that the people were buried in the act of running, and forever fossilized in that manner. Okay, there were not reaaally fossilized but they left impressions in the hot lava which a clever archeologist guessed correctly and then they poured resin into it and created the statues we see today. Or something to that effect.

I think I should add an disclaimer here: historical/archeological facts are NOT accurate. This is not Wiki, and even Wiki isn't 100% foolproof as all you academics should know by now! I'm sure you guys don't read my blog for geographic/historical information ANYWAY. Right?? Hahaha. I sincerely hope you don't.

Casts of the bodies and lots of artefacts excavated. Bottom one is an exhibit here.

So anyway, the point is that the town was buried for a good 2000 years and disappeared from the map and from history until someone found it about 200 years ago! The archeologists then dug up the 6 meters of volcanic ash and whatnots, and voila! Pompeii reappears on the world map! They found that much of the architecture was intact, or as intact as it can be following a volcanic eruption, so now we can walk through a town that is 2000 years old.

Main square of Pompeii town upon entering.

This is the volcano that erupted and took the town off the map.

It is pretty amazing because the streets are almost gridded, which is the system used in Manhattan today! There are eateries (the Pompeiians were very modern and loved to eat out), bath houses, stadiums, holiday chalets and even brothels! The roads were pretty well-paved, and if you look closely, you can even see two strips of dents created by the wheels of the carts (I assume).

Love these two shots and how the grey skies make for great contrast against the ancient stones.

Here's something you don't see at the exhibition - 2000yo brothels! The murals serve as some kind of karma sutra, inspiration for those who need. Hahaha.

Stadiums where gladiator fights took place. They estimated the size of the population in Pompeii by measuring the circumference and then dividing it by the average width of a person. Creative!

The exhibit in at the National Museum of Singapore did pretty well in recreating the city for us. The long murals bearing images of the city walls, the layout of a typical house, the strategically placed exhibits and the short 3D film depicting the eruption were really quite well done. Imagine the details that the curator has to pay attention to! Prior to this guided tour, I always thought curators had shit boring jobs, like wiping down the glass tops of exhibits and stuff. New found respect!

Imported mural and the ones at the actual site.

They imported this whole fountain so that we can see the details of the mosaic. Check out the shells embedded in there!

All other things that I enjoyed at the museum - the colonial architecture, the 3D film and the readily available clean toilets!! And of course, my outfit, which actually emits some form of fashion sense that completely disappeared in Europe with the constraints of a suitcase.

Anyway, the exhibit will go on for another 2 weeks, and guess what? It's OPEN HOUSE! Which means its freeeeee! I finished the last leg of my Europe tour at the exhibition, maybe you could start yours there!

Until the next!