Lovely Intermission

Hello. 'Tis I, Saggs. The one with the droopy derriere/bottom/arse...oh you know the rest.

Well, here I am. Back. Not just on blogosphere but back, Back.

Back on our sunny isle, Singapore. Back where we started.

For good.

Oh wow. That felt somewhat surreal. Typing those words, deliberately putting them in italics for ahem, added effect. Heh.

The past few days have flown by in a blur. We've been blessed with welcome home parties, we've located our rather elusive contractor, sorted out some administrative matters, left others in limbo. We've had our fill of local delights - teo chew mui, satay beehoon, prata, fish soup noodles, bandung, the works. I've had way too many durians and a hoarse voice to show for it. We're in the midst of helping a cousin sort out the nitty gritties for his wedding next weekend.

There are friends and family to catch up with but this time there's no time crunch, no frantic need to find pockets of time to slot in one more meetup.

We're pacing ourselves. And I've had little time to think about, well, how I feel about moving back. But that's a good thing.

Anyhow...I'm not quite sure whether I'll continue this blog or start another so in the meantime, I leave with you this wonderfully composed post I saved for a rainy day. It's one by my sis.

As some of you may know, she visited us in London and in between, went on a whirlwind tour of Venice/Florence, Edinburgh and Paris. I asked her to be a guest blogger - to recount our adventures, and to give us her POV of her holiday.

I think she's done a brilliant job and I'd like to share it with y'all. So here she is with her maiden blog entry, my chichi.

Enjoy!

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This is my month-long overdue guest blogger contribution regarding my recent Europe adventure. I’ve got a few caveats before I begin.

1. As it’s been a month, “time has dimmed my memory”, quoting a line from the movie The Student Prince.
2 I haven’t been writing or typing for quite a while so you must pardon my odd phrasing, bad spelling and what-nots.
3. I’m long-winded.
4. Take some of the things I write here tongue-in-cheek.

I made my unholy three-week pilgrimage to Europe in late May and June, courtesy of my hubby and after relentless “coercions” and “pleadings” via emails, smses, and face-to-face “confrontations” with my lovely Qiubio (read: sis) about visiting her in London.

My hubby, Von, says he let me go so I’d spare him the constant weeping and gnashing of teeth, and regular fretting about not being able to visit my dream destination and my bemoaning of lost opportunities i.e. my regrets that we never made it to Europe for our honeymoon even though we were supposed to.

I must have been such a complainer and nag that my leaving for Europe immediately dulled the pain of his sponsoring my trip (he works while I’m just a lazy stay-at-home mum).

So after “pressure” from both sides of the world, I made my lonely but determined sojourn to the European Continent on 20 May 2008 on British Airways (I had an encounter with a grumpy-whumpy stewardess who kept yawning at me and snapped at me to “get out of the way” when she had to make her way to some cabinet to get me a pack of toiletries).

Though my trip included London, Scotland, Bath, Cotswold, Stonehenge, Rome, Florence, Venice and Paris, I shall write only about the parts where I experienced with Syl (or in the case of Venice, with Dennis and Danielle too). Owing to lack of space, I’ll only mention the highlights of each place, leaving Syl to fill in the blanks.

Highlights of London aka food tour

The first day in London was a bit of a daze because of long travel and time difference but I remember somewhat clearly my experience at Gordon Ramsay’s Claridges at Claridges Hotel (small trivia: the cast of Sex and the City stayed at this hotel when they were in London for the premiere).

I was quite excited about going to Claridges not just because we were celebrating Dennis’ birthday, but because I was going to try the gastronomy delights of a celebrity one-Michelin star chef. Was I going to face hell, fire and brim-stone from Gordon? As expected, these chefs are hardly ever at their own establishments since they are so busy filming. I would have loved to study his botox-free forehead.

I was particularly impressed by the appetizer which was ooh-la-la. What struck me about the pork belly main course that I ordered was how it looked and tasted uncannily like our local sio bak. Was Gordon trying to pull a fast one on me? It had a nice layer of crispy skin like the best of our local roast pork but I think the sauce and presentation differentiated it from our coffee shop version.

The ravioli was a tad too salty for me, although Dennis found it okay. Dessert was pretty good, and the coffee and quality chocolate truffles offered as after-dinner sweets, rounded the evening nicely. But that was before we froze our butts off travelling back to Dennis’ and Syl’s abode. A somewhat surreal experience (cos of jetlag) but a lovely night, nonetheless.

Before I left London, I had the pleasure of trying Jamie Oliver’s Fifteen. His Italian outfit is smart casual in feel versus upmarket Claridges which serves French. I liked the pasta that Danielle had. Once again, I ordered pork as a main. This time it wasn’t roast pork style but rather substantial slices of pork cooked over 12 hours, leaving the meat tender and moist. The tiramisu cheesecake that I had for dessert was not too bad. What impressed me most was the unpretentious setting and the fact that Fifteen was set up to arm ex-cons and wayward youths with skills to improve their lot in life.

My verdict: Gordon 3.5/5. Jamie 3/5. And an additional 0.5 to Jamie for his altruism.

Apart from trying Claridges and Fifteen, which was kindly arranged by Syl and Dennis, the couple also brought me to Fortnum & Mason’s for tea. I enjoyed myself as it was so quintessential English that I felt almost like a queen while trying to politely scoff down scones and quaint little cakes with wild abandon.

On the topic of queen, Dennis, Syl, little Danielle and I jiggled like Dancing Queens when we caught Abba’s Mama Mia at Leichester Square. The songs were so catchy that the audience – even the grandmamas next to us, ignoring potential hernia and hipbone fractures – broke into dance during the encore. We all agreed that the cast was selected for their acting rather than singing talent. The exception was the lady cast in the role of Mama. But the cute storyline, familiar ditties and good acting allowed us to overlook the vocal inadequacies.

Highs and lows of Scotland

Actually, the only “low” of the trip was not seeing the “Heilan Coos” (Cows). Syl and I had been so absorbed with our coffee (me) and souvenir-viewing (she) during a stop that we didn’t realise that a number of people in our tour group had taken a short walk behind the café to say helloooo to the “Heilan Coos”. We were bemused by our silliness.

One of the interesting bits of the tour was hearing the tour guide in a kilt do a dramatised account of Mary Queen of Scots’ life. The funny story of how her head rolled would forever be ingrained in the deep recesses of my mind. And Syl’s.

To cheer us up after the “sordid” tale of palace intrigue, the same Scotsman played an obligatory tune or two on his bagpipes. Problem is, the longer he played, the more out of tune he got. Still, top marks for his story-telling prowess.

The strange thing about the trip to Edinburgh is that I’ve very little recollection of Edinburgh Castle (the must-see place of Edinburgh). All I recall is that I had to queue for a while to get a ticket to go in. And I remember seeing crows. Syl did her own thing while waiting for me as she had been to the castle on a previous trip. I must say that she was an excellent navigator in Edinburgh. I became quite brain-dead when it came to moving around as she was the compass. .

Our trip to the Scottish Highlands was awesome as the scenery was the stuff of legends. To get us in the highlands mood, the tour guide who reminded me of French actor Gerard Depardieu (I think it made Syl’s day to hear a real Scottish accent finally), played celtic music from Rob Roy and the bagpipes version of that famous Titantic tune.

To play the Titantic song just before our ferry ride across the Loch Ness, didn’t go down well with me. But we made it across the extremely deep lake with nary a dip in its icy waters. We were spared hyperthermia and didn’t get to greet Nessie, the Loch Ness monster. I must say that seeing Loch Ness was really one of the highlights of my European tour. With the so-blue water enveloped by bewitching scenery, the lake so vast and air so fresh, it felt magical.

The other important thing I gained from the tour: Old MacDonald was probably Scottish, while McDonald’s hints at an Irish ancestry.

Bon Giorno (hello) Venice!

I travelled by train from Florence to Venice, where I was met by Dennis, Syl and Danielle at the train station.

I was rather looking forward to Venice as it’s said to be romantic. Was I going to find a Romeo or Cassanova since Italian men are known to be amorous and flirtatious? Either I held back due to constant flashbacks of a familiar male countenance and three cute girls, Danielle was mistaken for my daughter or I’ve a You-Don’t-Mess-with-the-Zohan look, I didn’t have much success in that department. Okay, I thought at least let me admire the male species from afar.

My hopes were dashed when the gondolier that we hired for our romantic ride through the canals of Venice was not Mr Universe, Mr Manhunt or even an Owen “broken nose” Wilson. Mr Average was hired simply because he was the cheapest. Syl and I could only look at a passing Tom Cruise gondolier wistfully, knowing that we had some extra euros on us. The lesson is: you may get less than what you bargained for. Nevertheless, the gondola ride was well-worth the sacrifice and the 80 euros that we paid.

I had expected gondoliers to break into O Sole Mio in tenor voices as they rode down the canals. Alas, the operatic outbursts that we heard came from:

1. A man singing in the bathroom (not Dennis according to Syl)
2. A Korean tourist who surprised us with his spontaneity as he stepped out of a water bus; and
3. A mysterious man seated in a gondola that went past our restaurant as we were imbibing wine.

The thing about Venice is that it’s populated with more tourists than locals. Locals number only 60,000. As tourists started driving prices up, the locals decided that it was way too expensive to live in Venice. You can imagine that Venice is like a ghost town at night. Many houses have been left empty and the very narrow streets are eerily quiet. If you ignore this, you’ll appreciate the romantic and old feel of the place. A lot of buildings have been left intact so Venice has a lot of character and flavour. With canals running through the place and travel water-based, Venice is a very unique experience.

Food was good in Venice. Particularly memorable was the squid-ink pasta at a cosy joint that wasn’t a tourist hangout. We had decided that we would try to follow Lonely Planet’s food suggestions, and save for one eatery, everything was mama mia!

Don’t forget Paris

The Hotel de Paris selected by Syl was located in the Montmartre area – a good choice as it’s an artist enclave, very colourful and schizophrenic. On one hand, they have the iconic Sacred Heart Chapel on a hill piously overlooking the whole area. Then at street level, there’s Moulin Rouge, sex shops, strip joints, peep shows…very strange bedfellows. In between, they have cafes, art shops and little museums. During the weekends, artists of varying talent come out to play. They sell their works in the markets, while portrait artists approach passers-by to sketch their likeness in exchange for some moolah.

The view from the Sacred Heart is breathtaking in more ways than one. It’s the second-best place to go for a view of Paris after the Eiffel Tower. After what felt like a thousand steps up to the top, I was breathless. The view that greeted me left me gasping…for air. Syl was quite the marathon runner while I felt like Kungfu Panda.

Regarding food, the Wee sisters went so crazy over mussels, we ate at the same restaurant and ordered almost the same dishes three times in as many days. Our cholesterol levels must have gone on an overdrive after the OD on mussels.

Syl and I decided that a day view of the Eiffel Tower was insufficient so we took a night cruise and saw the night version too. It was a heart-stopping moment when we saw the tower glisten in the night like diamonds. Apparently, every hour on the hour at night, sparkling lights come on for 10 minutes, dressing the tower in a resplendent gown.

For me, another memorable excursion was the visit to Museum D’orsay. It was quite an experience to see so many great impressionist works under one roof – works by Cezanne, Degas, Monet, Manet and Van Gogh, to name a few. Too bad I didn’t have more time to view the works in greater detail.

Monet @ Musee d'Orsay

As for The Louvre, I liked I.M. Pei’s controversial architectural piece in the centre. But the museum was so huge I got quite lost, spending about 20 minutes searching for the exit. I also took many, many, many photos of the Mona Lisa. Arriving fairly late at the museum and getting lost left me with very little time at the museum. I realised that I only had time for the Masterpieces Tour. Following the instructions on the audio-guide, I realised half-way through that they featured only three masterpieces, one of which I had already viewed – the Mona Lisa. There can only be that many angles of the Mona Lisa one can photograph, no matter how good the piece is.

The other two masterpieces featured were sculptures. Frankly, I don’t know how to appreciate sculptures unless it’s of the naked David and I had already viewed him in Florence (Kudos to Michelangelo for a great work of art.). I had to force myself to view the two sculptures from different angles (including Venus’ rear end), while listening to comments about how amazing the sculptures are….blah blah blah. Meanwhile, the smarter sibling who without the “benefit” of an audio-guide, had marched her way through a trillion exhibits and snapped a zillion photos.

Paris was quite an adventure to say the least, albeit a good one.

One last thing…

Thanks Qiubio, Dennis and Danielle for having made my holiday so very special for me. I felt really comfortable at your home, and my holiday wouldn’t have been the same without you. Thanks for bringing me around and for providing me with laughter, food and good family company. Love you lots. See you soon in Singapore!

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