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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Well, something HAS gotta give

Would I be a terrible parent if I confess that visiting Disneyland was hard work? Coz the song that comes instantly to mind when I think of our recent visit to Parc Disneyland Paris is by Queen.

You'd think bringing a child to a world famous theme park would be - oh how should I put it - a walk in the park? But hohohoboy...

Dee was donkey-fied (being the beast of burden as usual)
We were well and truly fried, nicely singed on the edges and all. (Geri mentioned 'chow tah' on FB, that's how bad it was!)

We were amateurs. Greenhorns. Novices to this big and overwhelming world they call Disneyland. It was a stampede even though the summerbreak hasn't quite kicked in yet.

We had 2 whole days but still, we couldn't cover EVERYTHING.

It wasn't a small world after all. They lied. Hmph.

Our 2 days there felt like we were part of a mob.

We had gone in thinking we could flit from one ride to another, see different 'themed lands' - Adventureland, Fantasyland, Frontierland etc - with tra-la-la minimal fuss.

We didn't know how serious people (read: parents) were when it came to the 'meet and greet' sessions with the characters. People, they had targets they had to meet. TARGETS. Mums and Dads were busy striking off rides, ticking off shows they'd completed, and counting what else they had to cover. Kids were well prepared with autograph books and matching pens purchased from the Disney store. These were no novices, no siree, they were trained experts in the field of themeparks!

Dee and I were bewildered but quickly took notes on how to increase our efficiency from the Masters.

It was an Amazing Race (Disneyland edition) from the get-go. We braved the scorching sun, endured snaking queues, tut-tutted at people who CUT queues, dashed from themeland to themeland, witnessed children screaming at their parents, parents screaming their heads off... it was manic.

Yet, despite the rather frazzled experience. We enjoyed Disneyland. I think it was a combination of seeing Cheeks so utterly thrilled, and us working as a team to cover as much as possible that made the trip memorable. Once we got the hang of it, Papa and I split up to queue for rides, the meet and greet sessions. When our pace showed signs of slowing, Papa would remind me of how we'd zip about from one landmark to the next with gusto when we were on a holiday that we wanted. Instantly our engines would rev up again, and we tried best to make sure Cheeks got to see as many shows, take as many rides as possible.

There are many other anecdotes from this trip that I'd love to share - like the time we were left stranded on the 2nd day when Paris' Metro decided to go on strike and we had no means of getting to Disneyland (thank God for Disney staff at major stations who found alternative modes of transportation for Disneyland ticketholders), how we tried to be frugal and BYO-ed lunches (cooked rice! made porridge! packed sandwiches!) on this trip - but there are too many to put up on blog.

Instead I leave you with some photos. Just us. Beaming and grinning from ear to ear. Coz that's what sums up our maiden trip to Disneyland best...

getting cuddly with Sully

apprehended by the CDA (Child Detection Agency)!

with the chipmunks
kisses for Cheeks on her cheeks

Saggs and THE City

Out of all the weird-sounding, unintriguing, far-out blog names that swirled and sloshed inside my teeny cauldron of a brain, I chose the sanest and christened my first-ever blog 'Saggs and the City'.

It seemed a likely title. And I suppose, it still is.

'Saggs', a moniker bestowed affectionately on me by some of my oldest, closest friends was/is a shorter (cuter?!) derivation of my internet alter ego, saggingbehind, which, I lovingly named after my sizeable you-know-what. *raise an eyebrow*

'and the City'? Well, it's meant to be a tongue-in-cheek play on Candace Bushnell's successful book/drama spin-off ' Sex and the City'. Futhermore, we'd just moved to London - the bustling, cultural metropolis of the United Kingdom. A marriage of these 3 - for lack of a better term - 'rationale', and my blog name was sealed, etched forever (??) on the illusive walls of blogosphere.

The point I'm trying to drive at (yes, there is one) is that when I chose that name for my blog, little did I know that one day, I'd actually experience THE city.

That is, New York City - the city that never sleeps.

We've never been particularly inclined towards visiting the United States. Flights there were too daunting, too arduous (20-odd hours from Singapore?), the rate for USD always too high, too strong. But I suppose all that changed, somewhat, when we moved to the UK. Suddenly, the 8 hour flight duration seemed...manageable. And the rate of sterling, despite the economic downturn, remains strong against the Dollar.

I came home to London still high on the surreality of our trip to NYC. I foraged my DVD collection for movies filmed on location in New York - Prime, You've Got Mail, Serendipity, When Harry met Sally (surprisingly, all are my perennial favourites). It wasn't so much that I missed the city that made me re-watch those movies. I simply wanted the thrill of the holiday to continue to intoxicate me. And linger that bit longer.

I can think of one phrase that best describes how fleeting our 10-day holiday in the Big Apple was. It's one borrowed from 'The Bucket List' (a fab in-flight movie I was lucky enough to catch on our Virgin Atlantic flight back to London. Great recommendation, Jo!) -- '... like smoke through a keyhole.'

Sitting here, blogging our adventures, going through the 1,200-odd photos taken over the course of the trip, I feel displaced - didn't we recently leave Heathrow for JFK? Weren't we just at Central Park, posing infront of the Wollman Rink? And what, we're back? Already?!

our 3rd visit to Central Park (and we still couldn't finish seeing all of it!)
Our last stop -- the Wollman Rink

Every overseas holiday leaves me in awe of modern technology - how we can be in one country one minute, and another the next?

I don't think I'll ever watch a New York-based film the same way again. Streets, buildings and landmarks - they will look/sound, familiar. And yet, not. I'll wonder 'did I walk those streets?', or smile contentedly when I spot something I recognise . Yes, I was there. I did that, I'll muse.

Fifth Ave

These last 10 days we ate, breathed, slept the City.

If the buzz of London is able to spike one's heart rate, then the racy, pulsating beat of inner city New York will surely send one into cardiac arrest.

the bright lights @ Times Square

But the uneasy truth about NYC is - that despite the glitz and glamour we're frequently exposed to on screen, think 'Friends', 'Sex and the City' - it is a gritty, grotty city. Exciting and edgy, yes. But it's a filthy city tainted by garbage bags that clutter the city streets, Subway stations and trains marred by graffiti or worse, defecated on in corners and reeking of urine. It is a city where poverty is so apparent it's hard to ignore - by both sight and smell.

freedom of speech expressed through defacing a Subway wall?

Despite the startling blemishes, we did enjoy the City. There were SO many places to see, visit, explore. The distances we covered on foot could easily earn us the title 'NewYorkathon-ers'. (Our Top 3 walking achievements: 1) Walking from West 89th Street to West 48th, 2) West 4th Street to West 37th Street, and 3) Over Brooklyn Bridge in the sweltering heat. WLE!)

We borrowed the excellent 'DK Eyewitness Travel - New York' guide from our local library, took suggestions of noteworthy attractions off it, topped those up with pointers from Ed, Jo, Mabes and Dot (who visited NYC sometime in 2007?) and drew up an itinerary on an excel spreadsheet. Oh yeah, we were VERY prepared to explore every inch of the City!

From the West side to the East, Downtown and Uptown, we brisk walked from one avenue to the next with fierce determination. We explored Greenwich Village, East Village, Little Italy, K-town, the VERY extensive Chinatown, bits of Harlem, the Financial District, the Fashion Avenue, 2 museums, Central Park, Times Sq, Union Sq, Macy's, Woodbury Common, Century 21, Daffy's, Steve and Barry's, Madison Square Garden, UN Building, Ground Zero, Grand Central Terminal, Chrysler Building, Rockefeller Centre, Liberty Island, Lincoln Centre, South Street Seaport, and in between, refuelled by eating at great places (some of which were featured in movies)! Phew!

We covered A LOT.

Cafe Lalo, made popular by the movie 'You've Got Mail'

And while we're on the topic of food, our NY food trail was truly unbelievable. We behaved (according to a very appalled Jo) like a bunch of hungry caterpillars eating our way through the Big Apple (think Eric Carle). NYC is a foodie's paradise - from Magnolia Bakery cupcakes, H&H Bagels, Doughnut Planet, crabcakes at Sardi's, frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity 3, ikura sushi (with quails egg) at Sushi Mambo, milky korean soup Su Lung Tang, roast meats in Chinatown, tea at Petrossian the russian tearoom, to good ol' Macca burgers - we relished each and every bite*.

(If anyone's interested in our food trail itinerary, let me know. I'll email our list to you.)

And the museums. You gotta LOVE 'em. We were fortunate to catch an amazing exhibition by Chinese artist Cai Guo-Qiang at the Guggenheim Museum (pity the museum facade was under renovation tho'. Bah!). Even Cheeks enjoyed his installations. My favourite was the 'Rent Collection Courtyard'. The expressions captured on clay were remarkable. The Metropolitan Museum of Art didn't disappoint either. I was thrilled to be able to see so many Impressionists' works up close and personal. My favourites were all there - Monet, Seurat, Degas, Matisse, van Gogh...And I loved the fact that photography was allowed. Whoopee! Cheeks, on the other hand, enjoyed the Egyptian exhibit. She was thrilled to see a real sarcophagus.

A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte - by Georges Seurat

So yes, there were happy times aplenty. But there were down bits as well.

New York is NOT a great place for kids. (Did I mention the number of caged-up, concrete playgrounds that utterly depressed me? But let's leave that for now.)

As Hubs and I sped from one landmark to another, Cheeks was imprisoned in the pushchair, all strapped up. New York is better explored on foot and she simply could not keep up with the pace. So, we had no choice but to stick her in the pushchair on most days. When we chose unwisely NOT to place her on wheels, it ended up being arm and shoulder burn-outs for poor 'beast of burden' Papa.

I cannot begin to count, or recollect the number of times she whined for snacks in the pushchair because she was bored silly; the number of times we nudged her forward to make her hasten her pace, our irritated tones telling her to Stop dawdling! because we were always rushing from one place to the next. The countless times we denied her playtime at a playground, how we shushed her to stop interrupting our conversations with our adult friends. She protested going into stores, dragged her feet at bathtimes, and while dressing to go out. All she wanted to do (it seemed) was to stay in Jo's house, and play. Instead we whizzed her about on dusty roads, meandering between avenues, we shot disapproving looks at her when something she wanted to do didn't fall into our travel plans. And we utterly screwed up her sleep routine by keeping her out waaaaay past her bedtime.

Exhausted Cheeks.
The constant whizzing hither and thither took a toll on her

Looking back, I wonder how much of New York Cheeks actually enjoyed? She must've felt constantly frazzled and ignored - like her opinions and needs didn't matter.

In our unflagging quest to uncover NYC, we marginalised the needs of our child.

Despite our parental foibles, I'd like to think she was happy just being with us. Because that's how I felt. Even though it was challenging at times, I was happy zipping around the City because I was with the 2 people I love most in life. And I'm glad we got to experience NYC together.

So thank you, God. For this trip. For everything.

Cheeks and me at Bethesda Fountain, Central Park

Us, on the viewing deck at Rockefeller Centre.
Behind us is the Empire State Bldg

jo & me (w Cheeks) slurping bubbletea in Chinatown,
toting our identical Marc Jacob bags which we got at a crazy warehouse sale in Greenwich!

Maison de Planel - where we put up for the duration of our holiday!
Merci beaucoup, Planels!

Cheeks first musical and she loved it!
(jet-lagged, she slept through the last 20 min of the show tho')

our 'never-ending' walk across Brooklyn Bridge
that culminated in a creamy sweet treat at Brooklyn's finest ice-cream factory

Now we know why Meg Ryan was in the throes of passion at this Deli!
The beef pastrami sandwich was Oh oh OOoooh....Yes!

The obligatory visit to Macy's.
But we were so 'shopped out' by Woodbury Common we couldn't shop any more, anywhere!

amazing exhibition by Cai Guo Qiang at the Guggenheim Museum at Upper East side

Cheeks, bursting with excitement, waiting to enter F.A.O Schwarz
(along 5th Ave). We caught StoryTime while there.

whispering into walls at Grand Central Terminal (very 'In the Mood for Love')

when tackling a raging bull, better to grab it by its ho...no, balls. Ha!

pondering the pointless loss of life at Ground Zero

friends we met up with in NYC : Ed, Yider and her hubby Chou Kai
We're so glad we got to hang out with them!

Priceless tips I've taken away with me (in relation to our lovely friends, the Planels):

• Invest in Miyazaki, because he is THAT good
  
• Treat your spouse like a girlfriend/boyfriend - smother them with kisses, cuddles and tell them you love them ALL.THE.TIME.
  
• If you can afford a good set of kitchen knives, get 'em!
  
• When entertaining guests, always serve on coordinated serving plates. They do wonders in presentation.
• You can cook a gourmet meal despite the children.
  

Gros bisous!
xxx Le Chans

Our weekend in The Emerald Isle

It is so easy to fall in love with the countryside. Simply because there are so many things to love.

At the break of dawn, the farmyard comes alive - the cockerel rouses everyone from their slumber, donkeys nuzzle into the grass, scouring for leftover foodscraps, chickens cluck restlessly in their henhouses, waiting to be fed.

Yet, despite the cacophony of animal noises, it feels peaceful. It is a refreshing change of sights and sounds for city folk like us.

And the house we put up at for the past 2 nights - it is a house to love.

Drumbeagh House, County Cavan

They say a man's home is his castle. For Michael and Carolyn Lane (Andy and Meiling's parents), Drumbeagh House (pronounced as 'Drum-baaa') would certainly be their royal residence. It wasn't the tidiest, nor the most spotless of houses, but it was warm and cozy and I fell in love with it. Completely.

From the hand-polished stone walls, the mishmash of holiday memorabilia that bedecked the shelves and dangled from wooden beams, the house extensions that were meticulously planned and constructed from scratch, to the assortment of happy, smiley family photos found at every corner of the house - each bore evidence that this was a much-loved home.

It certainly was a good holiday. We ate well, guzzled too many pints of Guinness and mugs of tea, chatted late into the night.

Unlike our other holidays, we didn't plan an itinerary, nor did we set any objectives for the weekend. We weren't there to see the sights or do touristy things. In fact, our only aim was to plant an apple tree. And that, we achieved. We did things at a leisurely pace, taking time to appreciate the quiet rustic life instead.

This trip was also more for us to spend time with our dear friends, Andy & Meiling.

We'd always said we would visit their house in Ireland before returning to Singapore. We wanted to leave our 'mark' at their place, something distinct to help them better remember us by. That's how we came up with the idea of planting an apple tree in their garden.

I guess that's what made it all the more important for us to make this last trip to Ireland. To plant our 'friendship tree' and thank the Lanes for being great friends, and an integral part of our lives in the UK. We will remember fondly the roadtrip to Cambridge, camping in Kent, exploring St Albans, playing with firecrackers, enjoying the summer sun at Dunstables, the numerous coffee and makan sessions...

It felt surreal, planting those trees. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness as we lowered the sapling into the muddy earth. What was supposed to mark a new beginning felt more like a final goodbye. All those months talking about planting those trees, and we were finally doing it.

I sighed a lot over the course of the holiday. By the end of it, I'd accumulated a sizeable cloud (think Moses) - some were sighs of contentment, others were just... heavy breathing perhaps? I love to kid myself.

But thank God for tea! Each mug delivered the warm comfort I needed. My 'hug in a mug', Andy jested.

I took 200-odd snaps in the course of 2 days. I didn't care. I want the photos to tell a story in years to come.

The trip has left me somewhat pensive. That night, as I lay awake, curled up in my London bed, I couldn't shake off those feelings.

And now, all I want is for them to go away.

(For full set of photos, view 'em here)

Stairway to Michael Lane's 'Faeryland',
lined with wild primroses