best memory: june

best memory: june

Waking up in Santorini, Greece, after missing 2 flights, getting chased off a train, surviving a late night walk in Naples, evading pickpockets in Athens and a 10hour ferry ride. When I opened my eyes to the blurry scene of beauty in the morning, my heart literally sang with joy. This was our real holiday on our very, very adventurous trip.

paris in 8 hours

paris in 8 hours

Aside from sleeping on restaurants' tables and on benches in the parks, here's the other crazy thing we did - we tried to tour the most romantic city in the world in 8 hours. Yes, we had 8 hours to see Paris!

We consulted The Oracle (Lonely Planet Western Europe), picked and chose which pieces of advice to take, and set off without delay. Okay, maybe we spent 45mins trying to wash up in the toilet at Gare du Nord, but hey, you gotta make sure you look decent at the very least in those Parisian photos right! Especially after a 23hour bus ride!

Those were such tough decisions to make. For months, I've dreamt and drooled about Paris. I wanted to take a million photos of the Parisian streets and of course, the Eiffel Tower. I wanted to sit by La Seine and eat about 204 macarons and drink 3 gallons of wine. I wanted to recite French poems and speak proper Parisian French in the capital. I wanted to finally see all the places that I learn about during French cultural lessons.

I wanted to take many, many photos like that.

But thanks to our very careful planning, we had 8 hours in Paris. And that meant we could only pick TWO attractions to visit. Since we'd purchased tickets for the Louvre in advance, that took up one slot. Glenn suggested spending the ENTIRE DAY in there, so that we can actually appreciate some of the art pieces instead of just walking through the hugeass museum. I looked at him with tears in my eyes, and asked "Do you really expect me to examine the wrinkles around Mona Lisa's mouth while every cell in my body is screaming LA TOUR EIFFEL???"

Between the former,

and the latter...

I'll always pick the former. HAHA.

So our eventual itinerary went like that: French breakfast dans un petit café, Le Musée Louvre, La Tour Eiffel, beaucoup des photos la-bas, et finalement Notre-Dame avec Camie! I was a little disappointed to skip the Pompidou and Champs-Elyseess (dammit, I wanted to show off my almost perfect pronunciation of that one name that bug so many tourists!), but really, once you arrive at the pyramid of the Louvre and the iconic Eiffel Tower, you know you've arrived. By then, Paris would have engulfed you already, like it did us.

In front of the iconic glass pyramid.

Da Vinci Code. Haha.

My favourite. (La Baise d'Amour)

And then

.

.

.

LA TOUR EIFFEL! VOILA!

My best poster shot.

Despite the fact that Paris didn't seem quite as clean and therefore as romantic as movies, books and the posters portray it to be, I became deliriously euphoric the moment I saw the grand metal structure, and went shutter-happy immediately. In short, Paris is probably overrated, but the very idea of Paris takes over, then you're gone. Hopelessly in love. Lost in its classic romance.

So after 8 hours in Paris, my final verdict is: J'aime Paris. Beaucoup beaucoup.

Oh, and I resolve to go back and see the Eiffle Tower by the moonlight. I know right, which loser goes to Paris and leave not seeing the Eiffle Tower lit up. ): While I'm at it, I will also actually go up the tower and see Paris with all its dazzling lights at night. Paris, I will be back.

Until the next time!

the skirt of many stories

the skirt of many stories

Spot the similarity.

Yups, you've got it, it's the skirt! But this is not just any skirt. This is the skirt of many, many stories. It's an ordinary H&M skirt, and the only thing special about it is probably the fact that it's kid's size. Hahaha. It's a great trick to stealing excellent deals especially with your favourite brands! Try it, pretending you're trying for a niece/cousin, and then buy it! HAHA.

Anyway, back to the skirt. It's been my BEST piece of clothing throughout the trip. It's comfortable. It's rather glamorous (however glamorous you can get semi-backpacking). And it's got SO many stories.

I think the first time I wore it was on the long-haul flight from Boston to Glasgow. Now, having not seen the boy for 4 months, I didn't wanna be completely unglam when I step off the plane. Then again, I have to be comfortable right?? 7 hours is a pretty damn long time on the plane! So I wore the skirt with stretchy leggings and spag top, along with a cardigan and scarf. That way, I can sit however I want and be comfy no matter warm or cold. Much later, I realized I wore the EXACT same outfit on the even-longer-haul (7hrs + 5hrs) flight back to Singapore. I've now declared it my official plane outfit.

The next memorable time I wore it was when we took a day trip to Edinburgh. Wanting to look nice in the photos, I wore the skirt with stockings and, again, a spag top. (Spag tops are your MUST-HAVE'S when traveling, I swear. Plus the skirt, of course.) BUT, my idea of Edinburgh didn't include a climb up a pretty steep hill! Not to mention the fact that my pumps were highly unsuitable for the climb, my skirt was highly unsuitable for the wind! So half the time I was flashing the poor Scottish people who were trying to have a nice picnic. Lesson to learn? Always, always wear matching undies!

On the Scottish highlands, terrorizing pinickers.

That wasn't the only time where the wind caught me unaware though. The next time was in Santorini, Greece. I wore the skirt without tights, cos the temperature was just soaring in Santorini. And I picked the skirt because 1.) It's cooling, and 2.) It matches my strawhat and spag top! and 3.) It's pretty awesome for the beach. Now, what I didn't think of was the clifftop walk that we'd be doing in Fira and Oia. THE WIND WAS CRAZY. Well, once again, long-live matching undies, or rather, bikini bottoms this time. I guess if the ang-mohs can prance around in bikinis all over the island, I can show off my bikini every now and then too.

The guy who took this for us was so embarrassed about my flying skirt for me that he offered to take another one for us. Hahaha.

Because this skirt is great for pairing with leggings/stockings, it's also great for visits to churches and temples because I stupidly didn't bring my jeans on the trip. Now, it's only respectful that your shoulders be covered and your skirt/shorts/pants reach your knees. Most of the time, as long as I wore a completely opaque pair of tights (which are almost like long pants actually), it was okay.

Except at the Doumo in Milan. The security guard took one look at my skirt and went uh-uh, too short. But I really, really wanted to see the inside of the Doumo and that's the only reason why I went to Milan! And I even consciously dressed for the occasion! But I guess to him, leggings = stockings = nothing, rather than leggings = pants.

Now, this is the beauty of high-waisted skirt with a stretchable waistline - you can adjust the length however you want! So, I went to a corner and pulled my skirt as low as I could, and viola, it was knee-length and properly acceptable! So yes, I did manage to go into the Doumo in that skirt too.

Leggings? Stockings? Pants?

As much as this was a glam skirt, it also became a comfy, lazy skirt, as did ALL my outfits towards the end of the trip. Haha. So I stopped wearing it high-waisted, just so I could simply throw on a spag top without even bothering with stockings and shoes.

Lazy outfit for a photo trip in Pisa.

Oh, and finally, this skirt also manage to score a story in fashionable London. After a 5min walk from our hostel to the subway, I felt a light tap on my shoulder just as we were entering the station. Slightly startled - because I didn't know anyone else except Glenn in the city, and he was right beside me - I turned around suspiciously. An elegant lady in her mid-thirties looked at me shyly, and whispered "Excuse me, your skirt is tucked into your tights."

I WALKED 5 BLOCKS IN LONDON WITHOUT REALIZING THAT MY SKIRT WAS TUCKED INTO MY TRANSLUCENT TIGHTS. Oh dear Lord. The embarrassment. The appalling embarrassment. WHY do I have to have all the wrong fashion statements made in all the fashion capitals? First it was the girlfriend tights, and now the skirt that's tucked into my tights! Bahhh.

Oh wells, at least I got noticed in one way or another huh. Hahaha.

My infamous skirt and the famous tower bridge.

And will I ever wear that skirt again? Hmm, maybe it deserves to be framed up on my wall more than anything. Just in case there's another windy (or unlucky) day.

big night out

big night out

December 2009

That was us about half a year back, all dressed up and hyped up for Mambo night. This year, Kais fell sick, while Fran and I remained determined to prove that we're not getting THAT old. We've been lamenting about our (pending) adulthood for the longest time.

So tonight, in our killer heels and pretty frocks and eye makeup, we charged to Zouk! Then, Fran and I realized we were ALONE. By ourselves. Two of us who don't fancy clubbing much. So, we walked two rounds, trying to look cool, while frantically trying to remember (in secret) which queue to join. HAHA. Shh. It's just been too long!

After we finally got our chops, we decided to hop over to Clarke Quay to do some minor pub-crawling since it was still bright and early. But 20minutes later we found ourselves at Coffee Club, with pasta, cake and TEA set in front of us. Hahaha.

You know you're really getting old when your "big night out" consists of making a round through the entrance of Zouk, having high tea at midnight, followed by a nice, long chat by the river. Then home. Yawns! But oh, it's a good kinda getting old with your best girlies. Thank God for girlfriends. (:

Post-Script: We were too happily relaxed to even get someone to take a photo for us this time. HAHA.

first year

first year

First.

Last year, this day, I shared a story about us. This year, we've grown 365 days older, together. It hasn't been an easy year. We loved, we fought and we spent 4 months apart. Then we almost broke up. But we met up, made up and jetset Europe together.

Everyone has been telling me how lucky I am, and yes, I'm one incredibly lucky girl. To be able to travel to all the beautiful places with this beautiful man. To be able to spend 2 months in a space that's entirely our own. To have someone who loves me despite having to keep watch while I pee under a tree.

We're jigsaws from the same box falling into place. Yet we're each other's anti-thesis. Even on this day that's meant to be special, we fight and annoy the hell out of each other and ruin an evening. But what I like best about us is how we always, always make up afterwards. And what I like best about you is how you always, always give the best of yourself to me.

We're not the cliche couple, and that bothers us sometimes. Sometimes we struggle to fit into today's romance. Sometimes we fight those lines drawn. Then we realize it doesn't matter, because we've got something else; something bigger; something better.

I love how we ended up at a non-air-conditioned coffeeshop tonight with a bouquet of the most traditional roses, in celebration of our first year together. I love that we can laugh about how we fought the whole damn evening because you were late and I was determined to be angry and how you refused to give in to me and how I reluctantly made that dedication to you at the huge fountain and how your lips found mine and how you scrambled between the restaurants and the florist trying to make me smile and how we finally ditched all expectations and ended up in the most unromantic of places, celebrating one year of the best kind of love.

Je t'aime, toujours. Happy first year, babe.

this is how we rock it

this is how we rock it

Rome, Ciampino Airport Hostel. 3 stars (out of 5).

This is how we rock it after the sun goes down. On better nights. Due to my ah-hem brilliant planning and grand ambitions to save money, there were nights on the calendar marked out for airport camping.

Here was the plan: If our plane touches down past 11pm, we spend the night at the airport and get into the city bright and early the next morning. Plus point? We save a night on hostels and start out early the next day! Or, if our flight is an early one in the morning, we go to the airport the night before and spend the night there. Plus point? We save a night on hostels and skip the morning rush.

BUT. All that was based on the assumption that airports are open 24hrs. Ha! Boy, were we ever more mistaken. When you fly budget ryanair, you'd better do a double-check.

Well, our first night at the airport was actually unplanned. After missing our flight from Paris to Rome (and believe it or not, that was the SECOND one we missed on the trip [and oh, we missed two in a row>]), we spent a night at a friend of a friend's who was really nice to put us up at such short notice. Not wanting to impose on her any further, we decided to spent the next night at the airport since our flight was early in the morning.

So we caught the last bus to the airport, and sat down to wait for the passengers to clear so that we can find a nice spot to sleep. Well, the crowd did clear after awhile, but apparently we were supposed to clear WITH them! The security guard came up to us and told us that the airport was CLOSING. Yes, the AIRPORT was CLOSING.

Glenn and I just stared at each other in disbelief - airports actually close??

Well, apparently at Paris-Beauvais, they do! We prolonged our stay for as long as possible, and then dragged ourselves out into the cold reluctantly. But not before I overheard another American backpacker imploring the French security to allow him to go change into warmer clothes before getting out. It must have been the strangest occurrence for both of them as I, an Asian girl, stepped up and brought down the language barrier one notch. Very proud to speak at least a teeny weeny bit of French! :D

This same American dude later huddled with us on the alfresco tables of a restaurant that was closed for the night as we waited for morning to come. He even took a video of this once-in-a-lifetime-experience. Hahaha.

And as for me, I've never had a more excruciating 6 hours in my life before. NO ONE EVER MENTIONED SPRING NIGHTS ARE FREEZING! Out in the countryside, with nothing in the vicinity except the airport and its carpark, the temperature goes straight DOWN at night. And this was the moment when I took out my fleece blanket (wise foresight of Yiting) and went AH-HA! See! I told you we needed a blanket. (Glenn was complaining my luggage had waaaay too much rubbish.) But even that had its limits. I was literally trembling the whole night even though I had on every single jacket/sweater in the luggage.

When 6am neared and the airport staff reopened the waiting lounge, I almost burst into tears. Which is why I went ahead to order "tea" - which is really a cup of hot water and a Lipton tea bag - without even asking for the price. Oh, you don't even wanna know how much that cup of hot water + teabag cost. Let's just pretend it saved me from hyperthermia.

Paris, Beauvais Airport Hostel. 1 star (out of 5).

That was the first time we had to spend the night outdoors. I say "first", because that was not the only time, unfortunately. A few more days into our trip, we got chased off an Italian train. And it was not even because we were trying to cheat the system. We bought the tickets proper and STILL got chased off the train!

So here's what happened: When you buy a regional (the cheapest) train ticket in Italy, they issue you an open ticket, and you're supposed to validate the ticket at a machine at the station. Don't ask me why they do it way; I don't understand either. But anyway, we hardly ever did that because there's a conductor on every train who'd punch your ticket all the same. So basically you never get to re-use a ticket.

Then, as we were going from Venice to Milan, we had to run for the connecting train (because Italian trains are notoriously late, even after Mussolini), and of course we didn't validate our ticket. Happy and proud that we managed to catch that train, we settled back to take a nap. And when the conductor came to check our tickets, we just gave it to him without a second thought.

This was when I witnessed a transformation from human being to asshole. He glanced at our ticket coldly and stated flatly "Not validated. Pay fine. 50 euros." Mind you, both our tickets added up didn't even cost 50 euros! So we tried to explain ourselves, telling him that we had to rush for the train, and this has never happened before. We even took out our stack of punched and unvalidated tickets to show him. But the now-asshole of a conductor just insisted that we pay the fine.

"You no validate ticket, you pay fine. In English. Behind. You no understand? 50 euros. No pay, no train. Get off."

WHAT AN ANAL ASS! Fine, I told Glenn that if he wants to play by the book, we'll play by the book. The plan was for Glenn to get off at the next station, run to get the tickets validated, and then run back on to the train while I hold the door. You want it validated? THERE YOU GO. IN YOUR FACE!

But we were obviously not the first geniuses who came up with this scheme because that asshole got off the train, scanned the platform, chased me off the train, AND STOOD AT THE TRAIN DOORS BARRING US FROM GETTING BACK ON! He insisted that we didn't pay for the train ride, and so we couldn't get back on! Before we had a chance to say anything else, THAT ASSHOLE WAVED THE TRAIN DRIVER OFF!

And there we were, stranded in the middle of Italy between Venice to Milan, in the middle of the night. There were no more trains back to Rome (midpoint), and the next train to Milan was at 6am.

What did we do? We sat in the dingy waiting area on the uncomfy chairs until the security guard came to tell us that they were closing. By then, we weren't even surprised anymore. Hey, if airports close, of course train stations close too. We just shifted to the park right outside the train station, chose a bench and sat down. Actually, Glenn sat down to watch the stuff, while I lay down to make myself comfortable, hoping to catch forty winks.

But then I had to pee! Like, I really, really desperately needed to pee! There aren't too many moments in life when I get annoyed for being a girl, but this was definitely one of them. HOW TO PEE WHEN THE ONLY TOILET IS IN THE TRAIN STATION RIGHT? Well, when you need to go, you need to go. You just find the nearest big tree, and tell the boyfriend to watch the surroundings for you. And pray he doesn't ditch you the next morning.

So when I finally relieved my poor bladder of the enormous pressure, and tried to settle down to sleep, I heard a loud gushing sound and jumped up at once. Just when you think you've had the shittiest shit, life hands you more shit. No, it wasn't rain, thank God, but the SPRINKLERS in the park went off!

We panicked for the longest time, trying to shift here and there, and then we realized that our bench was the ONLY bench in the park that wasn't going to get wet. Thank God for small blessings in life. THANK GOD.

See, this is why Rome-Ciampino gets 3 stars out of 5 - there's shelter, there's an actual toilet and there's floor space to camp out! By the time we reached London-Stansted airport, we were wowed to tears - THERE ARE ACTUALLY CHAIRS TO LOUNGE ON! We were so happy that we spent 2 nights (in 4 days) there. 5 stars out of 5!

~

Having been through all that, here's some advice I have for all you adventurous travelers. Here are some things they don't quite tell you in the travel books.

1. AIRPORTS DO CLOSE. So check this website first.

2. If you ever need to spend a night in London-Stansted, there's this one secret place that's totally awesome... It's almost as comfortable as my living room couch! Ask me in private and I'll share the secret! (:

3. Italian train conductors are exceptionally anal on the last trains - probably because they think travelers have no choice (i.e. take the next train instead) and will have to pay the fine. So make sure you have everything in place. Just validate that damn ticket.

life is good

life is good

Favourite photo of the trip.

This photo pretty much summarizes our entire Europe trip, and I love the effortless irony it screams. Seriously, after freezing our butts off one night in a park in the middle of nowhere (or rather, in the middle of Italy), we finally arrived in Milan, thinking "We've made it!"

Then my suitcase handle just had to snap right after we got off the train. Right before our next flight out.

I don't know if it was the Europe air, or the lack of sleep, but we sat and laughed and laughed and laughed instead of dissolving into frustrated tears, like I might have done in the same situation elsewhere. The Italians who walked past stared and stared.

I then put my feet up, leaned back, took a photo of me trying to relax despite the broken handle. Only to burst into louder laughter upon the discovery of the shop's name in the background. How apt, how apt.

Oh gosh, I miss Europe and all its madness already. And I should really find time to write about our very, very exciting trip soon!

best memory: may

best memory: may

Flying across the day/night zone.

Walking through the arrival gates of Glasgow airport and finally seeing the boy after 4 long months. It wasn't a passionate oh-I-ran-into-his-arms-and-kissed-him-silly reunion, but thinking back about everything that followed that awkward yet familiar Hi again, it has to be the best memory of May.

why i'm on a mission

why i'm on a mission

There's a reason why I'm on a mission (to get my sexy back, duh) - New York. Come on, the city's so great they had to name it twice. (Okay, I stole this line from her but I thought it was pretty cool! I took a WHILE to figure it out. So.) Anyway, yes! New York! Lo and behold Internet, I came back with 5 extra pounds dangling out from my waistline.

But oh my tastebuds, the food in NYC was SO good. They always tell you that the shopping in NYC is awesome (and it is), the people in NYC are crazy (and some of them are), the subway in the city is even crazier (oh yeah it is) and Times Square will blind you and Central Park will charm your skirt off. But if I had to pick one thing to tell you about NYC, I'd tell you about THE FOOD.

Are you ready? Yes? Good. Take a deeeep breath. And here we go!

1. STREET MEAT

On the top of my list, we have street meat! You know those pushcarts along Midtown streets? That's what I'm talking about. Don't give me your UpperEastSider eew just yet. This is not any street meat. This is the street meat with a queue almost every single day. This is the street meat that will blow your mind.

Basically it's yellow rice with minced beef and minced something else. We didn't even bother looking. We just kept stuffing our mouths with that greasy good stuff. You can have it with their white sour sauce and/or chilli. Either way, it's just YUM.

Where? Corner of 53rd street and Broadway.

2. DOUGHNUT PLANT

You don't even have to be a huge fan of doughnuts to love this one! I know I know, that does not make sense at all - why would any non doughnut-lover to to Doughnut Plant? Wait till you hear what they've got!

Not only do these people do the BEST yeasty doughnuts ever, they do CAKE DOUGHNUTS! Can you even imagine that?? As if doughnuts aren't heaven on earth already, these people have it in cake form! I can't even begin to compare it with Dunkin' Donuts or Kripsy Kreme or Doughnut Factory. This thing is in a league of its own. It's part doughnut, part cake, part brownie and part heaven. No, I take it back. It's pure heaven.

You have to try this one. No, really. Even you, who don't even vaguely like doughnuts.

Where? On Grant Street, near Chinatown and Little Italy. Or, Google it.

3. RICE TO RICHES

The greatest thing about NYC isn't just the food. It's how the food at NYC changes your mind about the very idea of a certain food. It redefines. The cake doughnuts did that to me. And then Rice to Riches did the same thing again! This time, it's on rice puddings.

I know right, rice puddings. They don't even sound vaguely interesting or appealing or delicious. In fact, they almost sound downright yuck. But I saw it on the blog of the woman whose idea I stole about the name of NYC. Or specifically, this blog.

Anyway, I decided to give it a shot, because Sheryll and I were on a mission to try everything that a.) Sheryll thinks is good, b.) looks good, c.) the Internet says is good. And boy, did we pat ourselves on the back for walking 10 streets to find it! These people do their rice puddings like other people do icecream! They have it in so many different flavours, and even more toppings for us to choose from! And we just fell in love with the sassy decor and the lovely little tupperware in which the rice puddings were served in.

Where? Spring Street. Nolita.

4. AREPAS FROM CARACAS

I've never heard of arepas in my life, and probably would never have known that the pulled pork wrap thing that simply melted in my mouth was called an arepas until I got down to writing this and googled it. Sheryll brought me there after her cousin Mel brought her there. So, when you get to NYC, please bring yourself there!

It's an awesome little place that will have you stand at the door for ages just to get in at meal times. And no, I don't think they take reservations, unless you venture all the way to their other outlet in Brooklyn. Or, you can simply try the takeout room, and while waiting for your order, you might just get a seat.

Where? East Village, Lower East Side.

5. CUPCAKES

Everyone will tell you to try the cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery. And because everyone else has probably already done so, I'm not going to do that. Instead, I'm going to tell you to go try the cupcakes at Butterlane as well.

Like Magnolia, Butterlane offers only 2 or 3 flavours for their cupcakes. But they have some 15 different flavours of cream toppings to choose from! If you can't make up your mind, you can even have a cream shot! You know, tequila shots, espresso shots, same concept, but with cream. Haha. For the diehard cupcake cream lovers!

Where? East Village, Lower East Side. (Great dessert to the arepas!)

~

And that's only my Top 5! I really don't wanna be guilty of limiting your time to NYC to just foooood. Haha. BUT if you REALLY wanna know, we've also had an astonishing number of meals in Chinatown. Oh, and the Chinatown in NYC is not just any Chinatown. In fact, it's so Chiense (or rather, Canto) that I got a greater culture shock there than in Times Square!

But the food, oh the food. Especially if you're missing home food, Chinatown will make you drool all the way to Queens. And if you're lost about which ones to try, go for these: Dai Wong for the best charsiew and Yogee (on Chrystie St) for the beef noodles.

Oh gosh, New York, I miss you already.

best memory: april

best memory: april


Staying up the whole night on a sleepover at Nat's, just so we can have breakfast at Chez Cora at 6am. Or maybe the other night, when we walked out for coffee at 2am, thinking about how we're gonna miss this place and all its little wonders.