Postcards From Abroad

Hong Kong, China SAR, 23-26 Jul 2009: Food ChronicleEats, Shoots & Leaves

2009-07-31T23:11:00.002+08:00

Was in HK for another whirlwind meeting. Checked in at the Sheraton, Tsim Sha Tsui. Went for midnight rice porridge meal near Woo Sung Road. Followed by cold red bean soup. Next day, had after-meeting dinner with friends at Sheraton's Celestial Court. Dinner set comprised Peking Duck, Sharks' Fin Soup, Stir-fried Prawns & Scallops, Steamed Grouper, Lobster Noodles, Braised Beancurd Skin & Bakchoi, Mango Dessert. Went to the Peak that night. Dessert supper at Sweet Dynasty. Lantau Island excursion on the third day. Visited Great Bronze Buddha and Po Lin Temple. Entrance fee HKD 23 included free vegetarian snack - incredible deal. Returned to HK Island, checked into midlevels hotel. Dinner at Tsui Wah Canteen, on famous food street, Wellington Road. Delicious Wonton Noodle Soup plus Crispy Fried Prawn Noodles. Herbal Turtle Jelly supper, at Wanchai. Last day, Yum Cha breakfast at Kin Heung Restaurant - feisty waiters scurriedly refilled mugs of bitter tea, while venerable aunties hawked dim sum in pushcarts. Before leaving HK, had Beef Ramen at HK airport. Great with smooth Bubble Milk Tea.

Shanghai, China, 25-28 Sep 2008: Street FoodCheap & Good

2008-10-03T05:54:00.011+08:00

In Shanghai for a short trip. The street food is great, and prices are really kind to the wallet. My favourites are juicy Xiaolongbao and Shengjian - steamed and pan-fried versions of pork-filled dumplings. My best XLB experience was eating 32 of them at the Nanxiang Mantou shop in Yuyuan, Shanghai Old Town. There is invariably a long queue at the takeout counter of the famous shop. The counter cooks efficiently toss baskets of XLB into paper cardboard trays for the eagerly waiting and hungry customers. The queue moves relatively fast, but is interrupted by 10 to 15 minute spells of agonizing wait as fresh batches of XLB are steamed. Dining in the restaurant offers more variety, but at much higher prices.

Wujiang Road, near Nanjing West Road, has a busy food street. Crowds form quickly at 2 popular stalls - Xibeilang Barbecue Shop and Xiao Yang Fried Dumplings. The barbecue meat is spicy and deliciously moist. Yang's Fried Dumplings, Shengjian, are said to be Shanghai's best. Prepared fresh, the hot juicy soup filling bursts out unexpectedly as you take the first bite. I squirted some on my shirt. However the taste more than compensates for the minor sartorial mishap.

Berlin, Germany, 11-15 Oct 2006: Pergamon MuseumProcessional Way & Ishtar Gate

2008-04-25T05:07:00.011+08:00

New Year Feast Day, 200 BC. Ancient Babylonians parade on the Processional Way towards the Ishtar Gate. Fortress walls surround the city, towering on the left and right: a sea of cobalt glazed tiles punctuated every few feet with menacing growling lions. Both were built during Nebuchadnezzar II's reign, c. 600 BC. In the 1930s, German archaeologists at Berlin's Pergamon Museum completed a reconstruction of these structures using tons of fragments excavated in Iraq.

Chicago, USA, 28 Mar-2 Apr 2008: Art InstitutePictures at an Exhibition

2008-04-20T21:59:00.012+08:00

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, 7-9 Mar 2008: Petronas Twin TowersDare To Dream

2008-03-12T23:11:00.012+08:00

In KL over the weekend of the Malaysian General Elections on 8th March. It is an unusually quiet and tense Saturday night. The ruling party BN goes on to lose 5 states, their heaviest loss in nearly 4 decades. A resounding nay to racial politics. Oblivious to the burgeoning tumult, we dine at the kitschy Saloma Bistro, Jalan Ampang, near the Petronas Towers. Stolidly statuesque in the daytime, the twin towers - joined by a skybridge - acquire a steely opalescence when lit at night. Almost too beautiful. Gazing at the towers, time stands still. Notwithstanding their controversial birth, these grand dames have become transfigured as iconic symbols of the capital. Perennial beacons. Solemn witnesses to the winds of change sweeping the peninsula.

Beijing, China, 2 Mar 2008: The Great Wall DIYTo Badaling By Public Bus

2008-03-10T20:06:00.013+08:00

I was determined to visit the Great Wall on this, my third business trip to Beijing. Discouraged by horror tales of tours with time-wasting (and expensive) shopping stops, Joey and I decided (or rather I decided and Joey, suffering an impending flu attack and bravely battling the cold weather, reluctantly followed) to take the public bus to Badaling. It is possible, and in fact rather easy, to do-it-yourself. Here's how:

1. Take the subway to the Line 2 stop, Jishuitan (2RMB). Get out via exit B.
2. Either walk about 10 minutes to Deshengmen (you should be able to see this large fortified ancient gate structure, much like the Qianmen, in the distance) or take a short 3-minute 10RMB taxi ride (inform the driver you are going to Badaling). Ignore the modern bus terminus building along the way.
3. Join the queue for the large green and white long-distance 919 public bus. Check with the driver or conductor that the bus goes to Badaling (if necessary, print out the Chinese script 八达岭). Some 919 buses go only to Yanqing - a town just short of Badaling (why the bus company does not use another number is unfathomable). To add to the confusion, there are other city 919 buses that do not go to Badaling - these start from the afore-mentioned bus terminus. Ignore these.
4. There are express and regular 919 buses to Badaling. The former does not stop along the way, takes less than an hour for the journey, and are all scheduled to depart Deshengmen station before 1130h. The latter takes about 1.5 hours, making several stops along the way, but runs throughout the day. The fare should cost 12RMB on either bus.
5. The buses may depart from the bus bay behind Deshengmen, or from one across the road. Go up the bus to ask the driver or conductor. Do not worry if you miss the bus. There should be 2 or 3 departures every hour.
6. DO NOT BELIEVE ANYONE who tells you there are no more buses to Badaling. They are private bus or taxi touts who want to part you with your RMB. These cheats quote exorbitant fares (e.g. 80 RMB return on a bus). Sometimes, instead of Badaling, you may be brought to Juyongguan, a small Disney castle-like section of the Great Wall between Yanqing and Badaling, without the grand sweeping vista of the latter). Worse, the driver may demand more fare midway through the journey. DO NOT BELIEVE the officials at the information counter also (I suspect they are in on the conspiracy with the touts). BELIEVE ONLY the bus driver and/or conductor on the bus.
7. Be prepared for very crowded buses. It should not be a problem getting seats from Deshengmen, but the bus will be VERY packed on the return trip (at least until Yanqing) as the bus will have picked up passengers from stops farther than Badaling.
8. The last bus leaves Badaling station for Beijing at 1730h. Allow 2 to 3 hours for the Great Wall, and try to avoid rushing for the last bus. (I left Deshengmen at 1300h and returned by 1900h.) Again, DO NOT BELIEVE ANYONE who tells you there are no more buses back.

The entrance fee for the Badaling Great Wall is 40RMB. It takes 2 to 3 hours to scale and descend from Haohancheng, the peak of the North Wall (880m above sea level, the 8th of 12 tower stations along this stretch). The South Wall is shorter but steeper in parts, and therefore less popular. While the Badaling Great Wall has been extensively reconstructed (unlike the raw wilderness at sections of the Great Wall at Simatai and Mutianyu), the grand expanse of the wall snaking up and down the surrounding rolling hills is nevertheless breathtaking. The ascent (and descent) requires considerable stamina. If fitness is an issue or time is limited, consider taking the cable car ride (40RMB singe or 60RMB return, last ride at 1600h) to the peak at the 8th station of the North Wall. The cable car entrance is different from the Great Wall entrance (about 1000m apart) - just follow the signs.

There are more subway lines being built. By the Summer Olympic Games 2008, there should be a subway stop at the Badaling Express Bus Station (as well as another stop at the Summer Palace). Hopefully, the journey to Badaling will be less traumatic - if only they can clamp down on the scams.

Beijing, China, 29 Feb-2 Mar 2008: 老百姓Common Folk

2008-03-09T22:10:00.003+08:00

Less than 6 months to the Summer Olympic Games, Beijing is a hive of construction activities. In the Forbidden Palace, scaffoldings clad the 3 Great Halls, and modern slate tiles replaces uneven stone slabs gouged out from the ancient hallowed squares. Large parts of the traditonal Dazhalan quarters near Qianmen and hutongs adjacent to Wangfujing Street have been systematically torn down, their detritus shielded by giant billboards promising urban revitalization of meretricious appeal.

The hoi polloi, 老百姓 Lao Bai Xing, soldier on bravely, immutable in the sea of change swirling around them. Guards at the Forbidden Palace shout at tourists who linger too long on the bridges leading to the south entrance. Hungry customers jostle to buy their lunch orders of steamed buns Xiao Long Bao. Intrepid office workers brave the jungle of commuters on the subway and public buses. Brusque security guards patrol the busy warrens of shops selling luxury knockoffs in the Silk Street Bazaar. Life goes on.

Amid the rush, there is time for reflection. Monks and nuns take in the sights at the Forbidden Palace, sharing in lunchtime victuals on the benches outside Qianqinggong, the Inner Palace. In Beihai Park, enthusiasts huddle together and sing heartily to violin accompaniment on a crisp late winter Friday afternoon. A solitary man carefully wields a large water brush over the pavement, his ephemeral writing drying up and disappearing with the angled rays of the setting sun.

Malaysia, Penang, 17-19 Nov 2007: Living With ThalassaemiaDrugs, Needles & Syringes

2007-11-25T21:36:00.000+08:00

Thalassaemia is the commonest gene disorder in the world. In South-East Asia, about 1 in 20 persons carry the genes that can cause the disease. Thalassaemia major occurs when a child inherits affected genes from both parents, who may themselves be healthy carriers. A major thalassaemic suffers severe anaemia and requires approximately monthly transfusions from infancy. While life-sustaining, cumulative blood transfusions over a prolonged period results in iron deposition in various organs in the body. The iron is toxic, and causes heart, liver and endocrine organ dysfunction. Indeed, heart failure from heart iron overload is the commonest cause of premature death in thalassaemia major.

The body is evolutionarily programmed to conserve iron: except for menstrual blood loss, there exists no physiological process to rid the body of excess iron. With regular blood transfusions, many major thalassemics survive childhood only to die from the complications of organ iron overload in their teens and young adulthood. Since the mid 1970s, the iron chelator desferrioxamine has been used to remove excess body iron in thalassaemia major. The drug, which induces negative body iron balance only if given continually throughout life, has to be administered subcutaneously for 8 to 12 hours, at least 5 nights a week. Patients typically start desferrioxamine injections from childhood. Nowadays, there are 2 other iron chelating drugs: deferiprone and deferasirox, both oral drugs. Deferiprone appears to be very good at eluting iron from heart muscle, especially when used in combination with desferrioxamine. A few patients develop dangerously low levels of white blood cells with the drug, which limits its use. Deferasirox is a new oral chelating agent with similar efficacy to parenteral desferrioxamine. It is forbiddingly expensive, and out of the economic reach of most thalassaemia major patients.

The Penang Thalassaemia Society is a NGO that is dedicated to promoting the cause of thalassaemia patients in North Malaysia. The committee members comprises patients, parents, medical personnel and other volunteers. Through private charity, it has achieved remarkable success in funding expensive patient treatment: Penang thalassaemia patients have access to state-of-the-art medical care. Further, the Society organizes camps for patients and families to educate them about the disease and its treatment.

I attended the 11th Penang Thalassaemia Camp on 17-18th Nov 2007, my second time in 2 years. The theme focused on compliance to iron chelation treatment. It was a humbling experience to watch the thalassaemia major patients perform their personal nightly ritual of desferrioxamine injection in a communal setting. For one child, it was the first time the parent learnt to prepare the desferrioxamine solution and inject the drug into the abdomen of the child. For another child, it was to be the first time she injected into herself. Alas, she could not do it at the last minute. Mummy did it for her that night, the nth thousandth time. There will always be tomorrow.

London, United Kingdom, 16-20 Nov 2006: Bassae FriezeAmazonomachy & Centauromachy

2007-11-11T21:34:00.000+08:00

The Temple of Apollo Epikourios the Helper/Saviour) was built as a thanksgiving to Apollo for deliverance from a plague in c 430 BC. Ictinus, architect of the Parthenon, probably worked on this temple before the Parthenon. Sited in the small state of Phigaleia (Arcadia, Peloponnese) in the remote Arcadian hills, at 3710ft on a narrow terrace of Mt Kotilion, and surrounded by ravines (bassai), its inaccessibility helped preserve much of the temple (lost until 1765 AD) from marauders.

The temple is renowned for its single remarkable Corinthian column, the earliest known specimen in ancient Greece, as well as the Bassae Frieze. The Frieze, now in the British Museum in London, originally lined the inner walls of the temple, perched high on columns 7 metres above ground near to the ceiling. Despite the high relief, the sculptures could not have been well seen. When found, the 23 slabs of marble were lying in confusion amid rubble. The actual sequence of the placement of the individual segments of the Frieze is uncertain.

The Frieze depicts 2 battles: the Amazonomachy and the Centauromachy. The Amazons were a mighty race of valiant women warriors. They fought fearlessly against the Greeks (led by Herakles?). The Centaurs were invited guests of the Lapiths at a wedding feast. Feted by wine, their wild nature surfaced. After one Centaur attempted to ravage the bride, fighting broke out between the Centaurs and their Lapith hosts. The overarching theme in both sequences is the struggle between Civilization (the Greeks and the Lapiths) and barbarous Nature (the Amazons and Centaurs).

Berlin, Germany, 11-15 Oct 2006: Pergamon AltarGigantomachy & Telephos Frieze

2007-11-08T19:47:00.000+08:00

Pergamonmuseum was built to house the amazing marbles excavated from the site of the Zeus Altar in present-day Bergama, Turkey. The Pergamon Altar consists of an enormous outer frieze and an inner smaller frieze that surrounds the altar proper. The outer frieze depicts the Gigantomachy: the epic war between the Giants (many of whom have animal attributes) and the Gods on Mount Olympus. The inner frieze relates the story of Telephos, legendary founder of Pergamon, and son of demigod Herakles and Auge.

Gigantomachy. At nearly 120m long, this huge frieze surrounds the four sides of the base of the altar. The East Frieze features the major Gods, culminating in the battles between lightning bolt-wielding Zeus and Porphyrion, and powerful Athena and Alkyoneous, leader of the Giants. Alkyoneous is unceremoniously plucked from the grasp of his mother, Gaea, from whom the Giant draws strength and sustenance. The West Frieze opens up to a broad staircase that leads to the Altar.

Telephos Frieze. The frieze is the earliest known extant specimen of narrative sculpture. King Aleus, fearing the prophecy that his future grandson shall overthrow him, commits his daughter Auge to virginal priestesshood. She attracts Herakles and bears him a son, Telephos. Her father casts her out to sea in a boat, and abandons her son to the elements. She is rescued by King Teuthras in Mysia, while her son is discovered and protected by Herakles. Telephos grows up, finds his way to Mysia, where he distinguishes himself in battle and is rewarded by King Teuthras. He eventually succeeds the king. As ruler of Mysia, he fights against the Greeks, who are sailing to Troy to wrest Helen back from Paris. Inflicted with a non-healing wound by Achilles, he seeks help from the sibyl Clytemnestera. She advises him to kidnap her only son Orestes, in order to pressure Agamemnon, the boy's father, into persuading Achilles to heal his wound, thus fulfilling the prophecy, "He that wounded shall also heal." Achilles is however no Asklepios. Odysseus correctly guesses that it is Achilles' sword, not his person, that will do the healing. His wound cured, Telephos went on to guide the Greek contingent to Troy.

Gigantomachy:Alkyoneous-Athena-Gaea-Nike group, East Frieze

Berlin, Germany, 11-15 Oct 2006: Neighbourhoods & BuildingsNeoclassic East & Postmodern West

2007-11-03T03:27:00.001+08:00

Berlin sprawls: a giant city of several distinct boroughs. Since the fall of the Wall, the city centre moved to the historic heart of the German capital, Mitte. Former decaying eastern districts have received much-need rejuvenation. Hip Prenzlauer Berg has become a trendy residential area with eclectic restaurants and a lively bar scene.

Unter den Linden, the main thoroughfare of former East Berlin, runs westward from Alexanderplatz (with Swedish-made Cold War icon, Fernsehturm or TV Tower) to Brandenburg Tor. Museumsinsel (Museum Island) is the crown jewel of this tree-lined avenue, containing within the compact Spree Island, the exuberantly baroque Berliner Dom (fronting the Lustgarten) and five world-class museums, including Altes Museum (which houses the Egyptian Museum) and the august Ziggurat-inspired Pergamon Museum.

The famous quadriga-topped Brandenburg Tor on Pariserplatz marks the margin of the former Berlin Wall. During the Cold War, West Berlin underground trains run through heavily-guarded Geisterbahnhöfe, ghost stations: passengers did not get off, or on. Französischer Dom and Deutscher Dom are found in nearby Gendarmenmarkt.

The green expanse of Tiergarten stretches to the west of Brandenburg Tor. The Berlin Philharmonic and several museums (e.g. Gemäldegalerie) comprising the Kulturforum, are sited here. Imposing silhuoettes of modern edifices and skyscrapers at Potsdamer Platz create a stark juxtaposition to the adjacent horizontal spread of Mitte architecture.

Sited in the former West Berlin, the Kaiser Wilhelm Gedächtniskirche (Emperor William Memorial Church) in Kurfürstendamm and Libeskind-designed Jewish Museum are poignant sobre reminders of the city's war past and the Jewish Holocaust.

Bali, Indonesia, 18-23 Apr 2007: Island EscapeSouth To North & Back Again

2007-10-28T23:40:00.011+08:00

Had to give a lecture in Nusa Dua, a tourist development of 5-star hotels at the southern tip of Bali, about 20 minutes from Denpasar airport. Stayed at Nusa Dua Beach Hotel, which offered dual advantages of beautifully-decorated grounds and close proximity to the conference venue. Spent the first night finishing up the presentation. The talk went off reasonably well the next morning, no difficult questions (relief). Had dinner of traditional Balinese fare in Kuta. After that, it was to Hard Rock Cafe for drinks and then the Bounty disco. (Dinesh, Bali veteran, led the way.)

Next afternoon, joined a tour to Pura Taman Ayun (a temple complex in Mengwi) and Tanah Lot. Memorable dinner in Tanah Lot, at a restaurant on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Indian Ocean. To Kuta again in the evening.

Ubud beckoned. Checked out of hotel. Took a USD 30 1-hour plus cab ride there. Heavy rain in Ubud, cleared shortly after I arrived. Searched for losmen along Jalan Kajeng, where budget lodgings congregate. Found one with the help of driver, Rojas: USD 7 per night in a hut with fan and attached shower (no hot water) and toilet, including breakfast! Brief unpacking. Lunch of barbecued suckling pig in a roadside restaurant nearby. Rented a bicycle, and cycled around the town. Saw Ubud Market, the Art Zoo (on the road to Campuhan), Monkey Forest, etc.

Hired a car and driver (USD 35) for the next day. First to Yeh Panas, a hot spring, along the way to Gunung Batukau. The latter is a sacred mountain whose domed top resembles an inverted coconut half from far. There were several worshippers performing cremation ceremony at Pura Luhur Batukau: it was a propitious day for cremation. After Gunung Batukau, it was a circuitous drive along small winding dirt roads to Jatiluwih. Had lunch at Cafe Jatiluwih, surrounded by incomparable views of rice terraces in subtly shifting shades of emerald. (The volcanic soil in Bali being so fertile, rice is harvested continually throughout the year.) After lunch, it was off to Pacung, then Bedugul.

Bedugul is Muslim country in the north of predominantly Hindu Bali. Temperature dips a few degrees here. Serene Lake Bratan and Pura Ulun Danu Bratan offered a cool and refreshing respite. Before making way back south, stopped at Gitgit Multi-tier Waterfall. Swam.

Stopped at Campuhan just before Ubud. Pura Gunung Lebah. Got back to Jalan Kajeng losmen around 5pm. Showered. Searched for restaurant. Got lucky: sublime dinner of nasi, fish pepes, Balinese salad and sauces (USD 3.50) at a restaurant along Monkey Forest Road. Back to the losmen, my last night in Bali. The owners were preparing offerings for the next morning. A reassuring permanence in a changing world.

Gitgit Multi-tier Waterfall

Taipei, Taiwan, 10 -13 Oct 2007: Now & ThenPresent & Past Perfect

2007-10-20T17:58:00.000+08:00

Four Days In Taipei

Touchdown, Taonan Airport, 10.30pm, 10th October. Took a 30-minute taxi ride to Grand Hyatt Hotel. Haunted, I heard one fellow traveler spook another at immigrations. The hotel is next to Taipei 101, which was brightly lit up for the Taiwanese Independence Day ("Shuang Shi ++" or "Double Ten"). My room was gloomy, the bed-lights did not work. (I was to find out: other people in my group also had lights that did not work. Strange. Very.)

Changed quickly and walked to nearby Linjiang Night Market. Busy pedestrian street with many hawker fare. Ate, sated, strolled back.

The next day's workshop was scheduled for the afternoon. Went with Wanshan to the National Palace Museum, or "Gu Gong". Train stopped at Shilin Station. Continued on a cab for NT100. Gu Gong has an awesome Chinese collection stretching back 8000 years: jades, bronzes, porcelain, court paintings. Favourites: animal-mask bronzes (4,000 to 1,000 BC), Sung porcelain, Ming bowls, Qing jades (treasures from individual rooms in the Forbidden City). The free guided tour was very informative. Pity, photography was not allowed.

Attended meeting in the afternoon. After that, our group gathered at the hotel lobby. Siok Luan and Kiam Wee pointed out the talisman scrolls that were displayed on both sides of the service entrance to the lobby, as well as the heavy wind chimes at the main entrance. These were put up purportedly to ward off ghostly spirits. The hotel was built on burial/execution grounds. Somewhat shaken, we went out for dinner at Ximending, of mostly street fare. And returned with some trepidation to our rooms at the end of the long day.

Whole-day meeting the next day. Evening programme: Lungshan Temple, Ximending again. Returned to hotel, then went for group dinner at Kiki Restaurant, Guangfu Road. Hearty Sichuan food. Strolled back to hotel in light drizzle. Another long day ended.

Saturday 13th, flight was not until 6.25pm. After breakfast, took train to Beitou, a spa town during the Japanese Occupation. Small Hot Springs Museum (where you must remove shoes at the door and wear the slippers that were provided) was good for a 20-minute visit. There were a public bath and some hot spring inns, but I did not stay to try them out.

Took a bus (230, one every 30 min) to Yang Ming Shan National Park. Met Vivian and husband on the bus. They were staying with a friend until Monday. Reached YMS bus terminus at noon. Vivian was going to visit a restaurant-bathhouse. I did not join her, but walked towards the park instead. Saw Datun (Ta Tuen) Falls, climbed a small hill in Datun Recreation Area, and Guan Jing Ting (Scenic View Pavilion).

Stopped at Sun Yat Sen Memorial on the way back. Paid respects to the Man. Hurried back to hotel. To airport. Touchdown, Singapore, 11pm, 13th Oct.

23 Years Ago ...

Lived for a few weeks with a host family in Kaohsiung as an exchange student. Our group of junior college students was brought on a whirwind tour of the island: Taipei, Hualien, Alishan, farm stay in Changhua. I now only have scattered memories of that long-ago visit:

Faded faces of my host family;

Ou Zhenhan, my host, who pedaled me on a bicycle part of the way to school daily;

Going to school where all the boys sported crew cuts and military-like discipline prevailed (every school had a military trainer);

Bringing "Bian Dang" (lunchbox) to school, this was steamed and brought to me by duty classmates during lunch recess;

Losing my "Bian Dang" in a freak accident one morning (it slipped from my bag and fell through a gap in the closing bus door as the bus was leaving a stop), and having it returned to me in time for lunch (some girl students at the bus stop were able to identify my school from my uniform and their school managed to call my school to arrange for the return!);

Cooking lessons at school where we prepared and ate delicious "Yao Jiu Ji" (herbal wine chicken [ingredients: 1 chicken chopped, herbs, lots of sesame oil, more than 1 kg of ginger root, 4 bottles of rice wine!) and "Suan La Tang" (hot-and-sour Sichuan soup);

Learning to cycle in the school yard and knocking into parked scooters;

Eating stir-fried mutton (the best I ever ate), snake soup (over-rated, many small sharp bones) and Mongolian-style "Huo Guo" (steamboat) dinner on a wintry night;

Trips with Zhenhan's friends to the Night Market for supper;

Waking up at 3am, and buying breakfast of hot onion pancakes and coffee from an enterprising peddlar, to hike to the mountain top to see the sunrise in Alishan;

Mountain hike with friends;

Lishan, where orchards of pear trees covered the entire hill;

Harrowing bus rides along the North-South highway (the edge of the narrow road dropped precipitatously down steep cliff walls to the roaring Pacific Ocean) and spiraling up and down the mountains and gorges in Hualian (the driver admonished us not to stand up in the bus, in case it toppled over the side);

Friends visiting my host family in Changhua, queueing up to use the family's flush toilet, one of the few in the village, where spider-infested outhouses over manure holes did the job with equally devastating effectiveness.

Taipei, Taiwan, 10 -13 Oct 2007: Taiwanese Street Food"Pai Hang Bang" - The Hit Chart

2007-10-14T21:34:00.000+08:00

Street Fare Countdown

No. 10: Fried oyster omelette, Shi Lin Market, NT40
No. 9: Stir-fried mutton, Linjiang Night Market, NT90
No. 8: Ay-Chung Flour-Rice Noodle, Ximending, NT55
No. 7: Shaved ice dessert, Linjiang Night Market, NT35
No. 6: Onion pancakes, Shi Lin Station, NT25
No. 5: Beef noodles, Ximending, NT90
No. 4: Fried chicken chop, Shi Lin Market, NT45
No. 3: Cold beancurd dessert, Shi Lin Market, NT25
No. 2: Intestines stuffed with glutinous rice, Ximending, NT20
No. 1: Sweet potato soup, Hill-top Canteen, Datun Recreation Area, Yang Ming Shan, NT25

How to Get There

Shi Lin Market: across the road from Jiantan (not Shilin) train station, open in the day-time but best at night. Linjiang Night Market: 10 minutes' walk southwest of Grand Hyatt Hotel or Taipei 101. Shi Lin Train Station: hole-in-the-wall shop to the left of the station entrance.
Ximending: an impossibly crazy place, but you'll not miss the rice noodle stall - look for the long queues in front of the shop. Many illegal street hawkers roam about in a cat-and-mouse game with the police. Datun Recreation Area: wander along the paths in Yang Ming Shan Garden to Datun (Ta Tuen) Falls, go up the winding stairs on the right to the narrow bridge in front of the waterfall. Then climb 356 breath-sapping steps to the top of the hill, where you will be rewarded with ginger-spiced hot sweet potato soup. Simply the best.

Bordeaux, France, 25 Oct 2006: Bacchanalia BurdigalaA Day Of Wine & Roses

2007-10-06T18:58:00.000+08:00

Burdigala is the ancient Roman name for Bordeaux, famous for her climate, soil (perfect for growing grapes) and blended vintage wines. A total stranger to oenology, I went on a organized wine tour of three vineyards in the Médoc region: Château Pichon Longueville Comtesse de Lalande and Château Lynch-Bages in Pauillac, and Château d'Arsac in Margaux.

The wine-growing regions are divided by a strict classification system into appellations, each comprising adjoining vineyards that share similar microclimatic conditions, soil, grapes and wine-making art that impart unique identity and personality to the wine. So important is the impact of the terroir on wine quality, that each vineyard, or château, is rigorously ranked into first, second, third growths, etc in descending order of prestige based on this.

Château Pichon Longueville Comtesse de Lalande produces fine second growth vintages. The female owner injects her personal touch and love of beautiful things into the château: rose bushes lining the borders of the vine fields, painted wine barrels, extensive art collection exhibited on the premises, a handsome private residence. From the patio of the château, the famous tower of the premier cru Château Latour beckons alluringly from the distance while we sipped the proffered red.

After lunch, we made our way to the fifth-growth Château Lynch-Bages, also in Pauillac. More libation rouge. It also boasts a museum of antique wine-making equipment. Our last wine tasting of the day, Château d'Arsac, sits on two different appellations separated by a foot path: Margaux and Haut-Médoc. Previously fallen on hard times, the vineyards and wine production have since been painstakingly restored by new owners, with the château grounds reinvented as an open-air modern art museum.

Wine tasting, Château Pichon Longueville Comtesse de Lalande

Istanbul, Turkey, 16-21 May 2007: Iznik TilesCeramic Jewels

2007-09-30T08:37:00.000+08:00

Iznik tiles are used extensively to decorate the walls and ceilings of mosques and palaces in Ottoman Turkey. The interior of the Rustempasa Mosque, perched atop a small square block of shop houses in the Spice Bazaar, is completely covered with exquisite coloured tiles. Other fine specimens of Iznik tiles are found in the Topkapi Palace and the sacred Eyüp Mosque, in the Golden Horn.

Rustempasa Mosque

Harem, Topkapi Palace

Eyüp Mosque

Amsterdam, Netherlands, 31 May & 3-4 Jun 2007: SojournI AMsterdam

2007-09-25T22:23:00.000+08:00

Had a conference in Toronto in early June. Flew KLM, transiting in Amsterdam. Just perfect! Squeezed in a few hours' city tour on the way there, and an overnight stay on the return leg.

I was last in Amsterdam 7 years ago (ESC conference, which coincided with Sail 2000). This time round, I got to see many of the sights again, plus some new ones: Amsterdam's canals, Museumplein (near to my hotel), Rijksmuseum, Van Gogh Museum, Walletjes (red light district, where the action starts at 11pm), etc. The museums were fantastic. Managed to buy a last-minute ticket to a piano recital at the Concertgebouw: Maria João Pires playing Schubert Impromptus and Beethoven's Piano Sonata Op 110. Beautiful tone and expression, great performance.

Taking it easy, I took a leisurely stroll through Jordaan, in the west of town. This former working class area has become gentrified, with yuppie shops and pretty boathouses along the many small canals that traversed the district. The Jordaan jaunt ended in Prinsengracht, near to Westerkerk Church and Anne Frank House, from the secret annex of which, the toll of the church bells could be heard and the sharp spire seen. I also visited Beginhof, former courtyard home of the Beguines, a religious women's order. It was a secluded oasis of peace and tranquility in the midst of Spui, a busy commercial district.

Ontario, Canada, 2 Jun 2007: NiagaraAmerica & Horseshoe Falls

2007-09-22T19:06:00.000+08:00

It was a lazy Saturday after the conference in the lovely quiet town of Niagara-on-the-Lake, on the banks of Lake Ontario. As my flight would not leave until evening, I rented a bicycle to ride the 10 miles to Niagara Falls. After brief directions from the hotel staff and a map, I set off southwards from the genteel town and soon hit a long picturesque stretch of road, Niagara Parkway. Reached the Niagara Falls after about 90 minutes of leisurely riding. Along the way, I saw a hydroelectric plant, as well as the Whirlpool, a torrent created by the confluence of rivers downstream from the falls.

A thundering roar and stray wet sprays of water announced the approach to the Niagara Falls. The America Falls, on the opposite U.S. bank, and the larger Horseshoe Falls is on the Canadian side, made up the Niagara Falls. In the latter, water tumbled majestically into a torrential whirlpool below, boiling up into a permanent mist that shrouded the Horseshoe Falls. The Maid-of-the-Mist ferried tourists on scheduled thrills rides that teetered on the edge of the maelstrom before beating a hasty retreat.

Vienna, Austria, 4 Sep 2007: Kunsthistorisches MuseumGemaldegalerie, Egyptian, Greek & Roman Collections

2007-09-18T23:36:00.000+08:00

Vienna's Kunsthistorisches Museum boasts continental Europe's largest collection of art and antiquity, the fruit of the Habsburg rulers' predilection for amassing choice pieces throughout the expansive Austrian-Hungarian empire during their long 800-year domination. Antiquity from ancient Egyptian, Greek, Hellenistic and Roman civilizations are exhibited on the ground floor of the heavy neoclassical museum building. The painting collection, Gemäldegalerie, is on the first floor.

Canova's oeuvre Theseus Battling the Minotaur, marble made flesh, sits on a landing midway up the central staircase to the art gallery. Stand in awe of the life-like muscular tension between the hero and the struggling Minotaur. Flinch at the monster's agonized grimace moments before the fatal blow.

The Gemäldegalerie comprises paintings by Northern (Nederlandisch, Flanders) and Southern (Italian, Spanish) European artists displayed in the north and south wings, respectively. The collection features the world's biggest cache of works by Pieter Bruegel the Elder (including the fascinating Hunters in the Snow), rooms full of Rubens, Rembrandt, Titian, as well as rare Giorgione (filled with poetry and mystery), Velázquez (well traveled court painter-cum-art procurer to the Spanish Habsburg King Philip IV) and one sublime Vermeer.

The antiquities collection of Egyptian, Near East, Greek and Roman ancient artefacts resides in the south wing on the ground floor. Highlights include the largest assembly of papyri in the world, several noteworthy statues and carvings - e.g., fragments from the famous Parthenon Frieze, the Amazonian Sacrophagus with its dramatic battle scene relief - and an unmatched prized treasure trove of Roman cameos and jewellery.

The museum's remaining section, the Kunstkammer, features sculpture and the decorative arts. An unbridled orgy of rococo excess, the collection acquired some notoriety from the bizarre circumstances surrounding the theft and subsequent recovery of its celebrated centrepiece, Cellini's Saliera.

Paris, France, 6-8 Sep 2007: Three Days In ParisCity Sights In Black & White

2007-09-11T23:19:00.000+08:00

Day 1. 5pm. Musee d'Orsay. From Tuileries metro, walked through the gardens, crossed River Seine on the lovely slender Solferrino bridge. Long queue at the museum discouraged entry. Pity. 6pm. Went to Montmartre. Stopped at Abbesses metro. Did not take the elevator. Instead scaled the spiral staircase decorated with colourful murals of Parisien scenes. Crowds gathered to enjoy the panoramic view of Paris from the steps leading up to Sacre Coeur cathedral at the peak of Butte Montmartre. 10pm. Strolled along the banks, and enjoyed the quiet of, St Martin's canal in the untouristy 10th Arrondissement. Stood in the middle of one of the canal's many bridges as a cool refreshing breeze wafted over gently.

Day 2. 10am. Friday street market metres away from the apartment building in the 11th Arrondissement. Quick look at the stalls. 11am. Marais walk. Along rue de Turenne to Place des Vosges, one of the most beautiful squares in Paris, perfectly symmetrical and stately. Nearly noon. Back to apartment for lunch. 1pm. Latin quarters. Visited Luxembourg gardens. Weather was excellent, people lounged around, soaking up the sun. 3pm. Walked to St Sulpice cathedral (of Da Vinci's Code fame). Almost empty, north tower under restoration. Short visit to St Germain des Pres. 4pm. Walked through the grounds of the huge Louvre Museum, to the Palais Royale. Time stood still as gentlemen engaged in the silent game of petanque. 5pm. Walked to Notre Dame. Toured the gothic interiors. Then ... Berthillon ice-cream (chocolate, strawberry, praline with orange, raspberry) at No.31, Ile St Louis. Absolutely yummy. 6pm. Beauborg walk. Saw Georges Pompidou Centre. Enough. 7pm. To Eiffel Tower. The best approach ever was from Trocadero metro. Come out of the station, turn left and suddenly the tower plopped right into the field of view. Unrivalled vista. 8pm. Montparnasse. Met some new friends for dinner of moules et frites. 10pm. Streets of Paris filled with rollerbladers. Cars had to wait for more than 10 minutes for the whole train to pass. Incredible.

Day 3. Am. Meeting at KNOE, Kremlin Biscetre. Fruitful discussions. Lunch of excellent Pho at Pho 14. Avenue de Choisy, near Tolbiac metro. Pm. Shopping at Galerie Lafayette. 8pm. To airport.

Paris, France, 7 Sep 2007: Abbesses MetroUpstairs, Downstairs

2007-09-10T05:16:00.000+08:00

The Abbesses Metro station in the heart of Paris' Montmartre district is famous for the art nouveau entrance as well as the wall murals decorating the staircases that go more than 30 metres below ground level. It was recently extensively renovated. Colourful cartoons of Parisien scenes line the walls of the ascending stairwell (left column) while photographs of the Montmartre area are seen in the descending stairwell (right column). These eye-catching murals offer more than enough inducement to skip the elevator and take to the stairs. However, the effect and ambience are very different from the original murals before the latest revamp. I personally prefer the old look ... but what do you think?

Sa Pa, Vietnam, 27-28 July 2007: Minority PeoplesHmong And Dzao Women

2007-08-26T20:16:00.000+08:00

It was a misty wet rainy morning when we arrived in Sa Pa. After checking in at the Bamboo Hotel, our tour group of six - two of us, Z and I, from Singapore, three school teachers from Spain, one middle-aged gentle giant from France who muttered only French - were greeted by our local guide, Le Thi Vu, a feisty precocious gregarious 19-year-old Black Hmong girl, sporting an attitude and an electric pink umbrella. She could really hold her own. Besides Vietnamese and the Hmong dialect, she spoke English, a smattering of French and could hurl greetings (and insults) in at least another half a dozen different tongues.

Unlike the rest of Vietnam where the Kinh ethnic race predominates, minority peoples like Hmongs and Dzaos prevail in Sa Pa. Mass tourism has transformed the lives and livelihoods of these erstwhile agrarian minority races immutably. Garbed in traditional wear and garish modern rubber galoshes, Hmong women and girls thronged the streets of Sa Pa town, plying indigenous textiles and silverware. Women wore their ethnic costumes proudly. These were espoused for their functionality and comfort, as well as the unique colours and ornamentation that identified the different tribes - Black Hmong in indigo black; Flower Hmong and Red Dzao decked in floral print and vermillion headgears, respectively. Most men eschewed them and donned modern apparel instead. At Cho Sa Pa, the central market, stall owners glanced worriedly skyward as the inchoate drizzle threatened to turn into a downpour. Ensconced in the two-storied market building, the women busily sewed and embroidered, making handicrafts for sale to tourists. The rain brought more customers, all seeking shelter from the heavy showers.

The next day, weather improved. At the sides of Sa Pa Town Square, many minority peoples set up stalls selling handicraft, fruits and food. Z bought an embroidered cap from these women at an unbelievably low price of 10,000 VND! I wondered how long it took them to hand-make the cap. After breakfast, we went on a trekking excursion to Lao Chai and Ta Van villages. Along the way, we were joined by many Red Dzao and Black Hmong women hill guides. They trailed us throughout, sometimes helping to steady us and prevent many a nasty fall as we trudged clumsily on the interminable slippery muddy dirt tracks. Of course, at the end, they cajoled us to buy handicrafts from them. The items were all familiar - dyed textiles embroidered bags and caps, silver jewellery - and could be purchased in Sa Pa town at more reasonable prices, too. Market-fatigued and souvenir-weary, I wondered how this cottage economy could be sustainable with everyone selling the same stuff!

The natural beauty in the valleys towns of Lao Chai and Ta Van was astounding. But the living was hard. We walked past the squat building that functioned as the village school. Classes have temporarily closed for summer. Only a straggling of resident teachers and fewer students remained in the largely empty classrooms. A tiny room at the corner was the village dispensary. There was no hospital nearby. The dispensary provided makeshift basic healthcare to the surrounding villagers. It was closed that day, a Saturday. The doors were firmly shuttered, and the narrow entrance was guarded by two desultory mongrel dogs. The treacherous village dirt roads were impassable to vehicles. Loads and provisions had to be carried manually. A diminutive Hmong woman, slouched low, bore on her shoulders a load of tied-up plant leaves that was twice her weight. The leaves were meal for the family buffalo. Who now was the beast of burden?

Sa Pa, Vietnam, 27-28 July 2007: Highland TrekkingA Walk In The Clouds

2007-08-24T06:57:00.001+08:00

Took an overnight train from Hanoi to Lao Cai Province. Arrived at 5am. It was another 1 hour ride by minibus to the highland town of Sa Pa. We spent the next 2 days trekking. Click here to view the web album.

Halong Bay, Vietnam, 25-26 July 2007: The Dragons Descendeth(Poly)Chromatic Fantasy

2007-08-19T21:02:00.001+08:00

Booked a two-day tour of Halong Bay from Sinh Cafe (29 USD per person, twin-sharing). Departed Hanoi and reached Halong City in 3 hours. Once on the boat, time seemed to slow down perceptibly. Relaxed itinerary: lounged around on the boat mostly, visited Sung Sot Cave, swam, kayaked. Overnight stay on Halong bay. The room was warm, so I slept on the deck under the stars. Perfect.Legend has it that the myriad islands of Halong Bay were created by the playful tossing and thrashing of a family of dragons, from which the bay's name originated. Most of the islands were uninhabited, their sharp peaks savage accents on the peaceful waveless waters of the bay. The natural beauty was breathtaking. The sea and islands metamorphosed into strikingly different hues at various times of the day and night. Click here to view the web album.

Afternoon,
Powder Blue

Sunset,
Champagne Gold

Sunset,
Amber Fire

Sunrise,
Peach Rose

Dawn,
Cornflower Blue

Dawn,
Squid Ink

Dawn,
Indigo Glow

Sunrise,
Salmon Pink

Sunrise,
Pigeon Blood

Morning,
Silver Mist

Morning,
Lilac Wash

Morning,
Baby Pastel

Morning,
Half Light

Morning,
Cobalt Azure

Morning,
Aqua Marine

Morning,
Techni Colour

Morning,
Charcoal Gray

Morning,
Peacock Green

Morning,
Sea Green

Morning,
Sunny Cyan

Halong City, Vietnam, 25 July 2007: Terrine de porc au canardFood For Thought

2007-08-19T07:00:00.001+08:00

It was a 3-hour ride from Hanoi to Halong City on the cramped tour minibus, the start of our Halong Bay overnight sojourn. Saw something interesting on-route: a market-bound truck. It was packed to the brim with vegetables ... and then some. Writhing avian and porcine occupants, tied up and tied down, confined together in undignified close proximity, squealed helplessly with dismay looming over their discomfited countenances. Their common fates firmly sealed.

Changsha, China, 1 July 2007: Flight CZ6306Long Day's Journey Into Night

2007-08-10T23:14:00.000+08:00

      H - young, petite, in a skyblue singlet with loud silvery glittery swirling letters emblazoned on the bosom, and matching eye shadow - asked me how long I had been waiting. Too long. China Southern Airlines flight CZ6306 was to have taken off an hour ago at 2:30 pm from Shenzhen Airport, bound for Wuhan, then Shenyang. But there was no sign of the plane. Neither official updates nor explanation materialized. A rumour went around: CZ6306 was still stranded at Zhuhai Airport due to bad weather. Turned out to be true. Bad luck. Well maybe not too bad after all. Zhuhai was less than an hour away.
      "You don't sound local."
      "I am from Singapore."
      "You speak so softly and care-ful-ly. I can barely grasp what you are saying. Is this how Singaporeans speak?"
      "Not all. My Huayu is not vey good. I have to think very hard before I say something in Huayu," I stammered haltingly, sotto voce.
      "Huayu?"
      "Huayu. No?"
      Long pause. Broken only as understanding slowly dawned on H's face.
      "Ohhhhh. It's Guoyu. Or Putonghua. We don't call the Chinese language Huayu here in China."
      "That's, er, true," L nodded nervously in agreement.
      L possessed the gentlest of voices, cri du chat. Long hair pinned back squarely, unveiling finely-plucked eyebrows and bemused eyes that danced behind long narrow drawn eyelids, her quiet diffident air was made complete by a below-knee sun-dress with sea-green floral prints and floppy large collar that screamed girl-next-door. H was different - modern, vivacious, confident, spunky, the only one with make-up on. They had been utter strangers before they met at check-in but were now talking animatedly like old friends. Both were traveling by air for the first time.
      "I have a few days off from work. I am flying to Wuhan. My big brother is there. He's a hairdresser," intimated L shyly.
      "Isn't Wuhan very hot this time of year?" I queried in wonderment for I did not relish my own first trip to - and upcoming week-long conference in - Wuhan notorious for its oven-like summer heatwave.
      "It will be fine. I am so looking forward to seeing Wuhan again. I remember having a swell time when I visited with my family more than ten years ago, although my memory of the sights is now blurry. I was only a small child then," L's eyes twinkled, her excitement grew apace, undented by my thinning enthusiasm.
      "I shall be going onward to Shenyang. I hope the flight will board soon. With this delay, it will be very dark when I arrive," H intoned worriedly. And with sibyllic prescience, as we were all to find out.
      Flight CZ6306 arrived two hours late, accompanied by gathering glowering clouds and light rain. We met M in the flight boarding queue. M, with the sad doe eyes and tired beautiful face, was in a tee-shirt and a matronly overall top. She too was flying for the first time. To Shenyang to meet some friends there for a holiday. Bound by their common predicament and situation, H, L and M broke into easy chatter.
      "I should have taken the train. It's way cheaper. At least I know when I will actually arrive," M rued, her plans in limbo.
      "No way. It's more than thirty hours by train to Shenyang. I am almost sure we shall be in Shenyang in but a few hours," H injected wishfully, albeit with little conviction.
      Sheep-like we filed into the plane, glad to be going somewhere finally.
      Almost 6 pm. From my window seat, I thought I could see the intersection of the Yangzi and Hanshui Rivers. They divide Wuhan, the capital of Hubei province, into three parts: Hankou, Hanyang and Wuchang. I hurriedly studied my notebook for details of how to make the long journey by bus from the airport to my destination: Bahaolou, Huazhong University of Science and Technology, Wuchang. My thoughts were jolted suddenly by the pilot's announcement. Due to heavy thunderstorms in Wuhan, it was too dangerous to land. The plane had to turn around from the city and detour to Changsha.
     "WHAAAAT!" the passenger cabin exploded in spontaneous collective protest. Changsha was in another province, Hunan, almost one-third of the way back to where we started off - this I quickly discovered to my dismay, flipping furiously to the map section of the inflight magazine.
      Hands shot up, voices were raised, children cried. The toddler seated behind me had to go to the loo. Number 2.
      "Too bad, no can do," was the stewardesses' brusque business-like brush-off.
      Illumined by the dying rays of the setting sun, Changsha's verdant hills, rice paddi fields and mirror-like lakes looked serenely beautiful from the air. Huanghua airport was, in contrast, drab and cheerless. I searched for and found H, L and M huddled together on a row of chairs, eating Niushifu brand beef-flavoured instant cup noodles. The 8 RMB noodles were overpriced, but were the only food available. Ubiquitous boilers dispensed hot water for cooking the noodles.
      "Hi. Sit down here," H patted on the seat beside her. "Have one of these."
      I sat down, accepted her proffered savoury snack, peeled away the tacky plastic wrapper and nervously bit into an anonymous thin slab of spicy saltiness.
      "Duck's tongue. Local specialty produce. Very good," H volunteered in quick staccato, before turning back to continue her conversation with L and M.
      She was showing them photos of her colleagues taken that morning, the final day of her job. The last two years, she had worked in a Shenzhen shop, selling cosmetics, 9 am to 9 pm daily, one day off a week. It was a good job, better-paying than the factory work she did previously. Nevertheless, she wanted to move on to better things. She resigned from her job, packed her bags, stuffed her hand luggage with expensive cosmetics, and was traveling to Shenyang to meet a friend. If things went according to plan, they would set up a business there to sell cosmetics. Youthful brashness, but impressive self-assuredness.
      "I make these," L pointed at my backpack.
      She worked in a factory making branded backpacks for export. No, she could not afford the expensive bags she made. Neither were they available for sale locally.
      "I make these," M pointed at my shoes.
      She too worked in a factory. Making branded shoes for export that she could not afford were they sold locally, which of course they were not. Deja vu.
      One and a half hours into the wait, China Southern Airlines mustered up packed dinners for us stranded passengers. We supped joylessly on rice, shreds of oily cabbage and meatless hog bones. It was scant comfort for our growing frustration.
      10 pm. News broke that the weather in Wuhan was clearing. A boarding announcement was made. Hurrah! Ecstatic beyond belief, H, L, M and I eagerly went through the perfunctory identity and ticket checks, and walked, almost bounced, to the waiting bus on the tarmac. Squeezed into the bus, we were quickly ferried to the waiting plane.
      There was another one hour's wait in the plane. In the meantime, two other planes flew off to Wuhan. Our pilot said we had to wait to see if these earlier planes could actually land before we set off.
      "WHAAAAT! AGAAAAIN!" the passenger cabin exploded in spontaneous collective protest. Again.
      Murmurings of passenger mutiny grew louder and louder. Invectives were hurled at the hapless stewardesses, who ploughed up and down the aisle with stern grave expressions, doing nothing useful really. ARRRRGGH! Nonplussed with bewilderment, I was by now numb to everything around me. I just hoped for an end to the lugubrious ordeal.
      Around 11 pm, our plane took off. How much the decision was instigated by vocal passenger insistence, I did not know. If we had waited any longer, the aircrew would surely have been lynched. I dared not think about whether the decision was a safe one.
      The plane landed in Wuhan around midnight, eight hours late. The weather was eerily calm: wet glistening runways and scattered damp drizzle the whimpering vestiges of the foregoing thundering malevolence. Zombie-like, I collected my luggage and exited the airport. Luckily there was a waiting bus to Wuchang's Fujiapo bus terminus. I bought my 30 RMB ticket, deposited my luggage in the trunk and boarded the bus seconds before it moved off.
      The bus sliced effortlessly through the thick darkness of the Wuhanese night, on roads almost empty of traffic. The first stop was Hankou railway station. As the bus started to slow down near the stop, I felt a hand brush lightly across my shoulder.
      "Hope you have a good time in Wuhan. Bye," L purred softly. Her body, back-lit against the glaring suddenly-switched-on lights on the bus, flitted past me and floated to the front of the bus to get off. I could barely make out a shadowy silhouette in front of her. Her brother, surely.
      As the bus pulled away from the stop, and their figures slowly receded and finally disappeared from view, I felt I had lost something.
      I never got to know their names. It had not seemed necessary. Then.

Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, 22 July 2007: Saigon BridePictures At A Wedding

2007-08-04T11:54:00.000+08:00

I visited Vietnam again recently. This time to attend the wedding of friends, Thu Thao and Kwang Peng. Kwang Peng's entourage of family and friends flew the day before from Singapore to Ho Chi Minh City for the occasion. On the wedding day, 22 July 2007, before the bridegroom's party arrived at the bride's grandparents' home, I managed to snap several candid photos of Thu Thao and her family as they went about with their busy preparations.

Bali, Indonesia, 18-23 Apr 2007: Tanah LotSunset

2007-04-29T21:32:00.001+08:00

Tanah Lot in the Tabanan district of Bali, situated at the island's southwestern coast, is easily accessible from South Bali. Locals and tourist flock here to enjoy the glorious sunset.

Pura Batu Bolong perches on a cliff overlooking the Indian Ocean. Relentless waves pound at the base of the cliff, eroding over the millennia a hole in the rocks.

Pura Tanah Lot is one of the holiest temples on Bali. At low tide, pilgrims tread the rocky paths to the temple, gingerly avoiding legendary venomous seasnakes that guard its access.

Bali, Indonesia, 18-23 Apr 2007: People & FacesSouth to North - Nusa Dua, Kuta, Ubud & Beyond

2007-04-28T01:47:00.000+08:00

Night, 18th. Arrived in Denpasar airport, Bali, around 7pm. Pitch dark already. Checked into Nusa Dua Beach Hotel (got an upgrade to the Palace Wing - which was nice). Recce'd shopping area just outside the Nusa Dua compound, found a reasonably-priced 'spa'. Decided to try it out with some friends the next day. Afternoon, 19th. Got a 3-hour session with body massage, hair treatment and foot reflexology (Rp 230K). No aircon, no frills, but still great!

Evening, 19th. Dinner at Kuta. Great Balinese food at Warung Satria - spicy. Chilled out at Hard Rock Cafe with friends (the same spa gang), then the Bounty Disco. Watched while they played pool (I am hopeless with the cue). Near the entrance, there was some energetic hip-gyrating joget dancing set to pulsating Techno Gamelan.

Afternoon, 20th. Went on a tour. Visited the beautiful Pura Taman Ayun, Mengwi, which was set in a sprawling garden (rare for a Hindu temple), and surrounded by a moat. Ended the tour at Tanah Lot. Saw awe-inspiring sunset views of the Indian Ocean and temple complexes. Tourists were not allowed to enter the holy Pura Tanah Lot. Ritual Hindu blessings were dispensed at the base of the temple knoll. Had dinner at a restaurant on the edge of the cliff, with vantage view of the sunset. The grilled seafood was good.

Afternoon, 21st. Checked out of hotel and journeyed to Ubud. Visited a gold and silver workshop in Celuk village on the way (no purchase) as well as an Artists' Cooperative at Ubud. It was raining heavily when I was at the gallery. Hence I spent some time (and money) there. Bought 2 paintings in the Keliki style - detailed miniatures of traditional Balinese scenes. Took a photo of the artist, Sutiawan, aged 28 years, who had been drawing since ten.

Afternoon, 21st. Arrived in Ubud. Driver helped me to find a local homestay, losmen. There were several along Jalan Kajeng, at the centre of town. Decided on Rojas losmen on the second attempt, Rp 70K per day, with breakfast. After putting down my stuff, i had lunch at Ibu Oka 2 streets away (driver's recommendation), which specialized in roast suckling pig, Babi Guling. I had the special set (Rp 20K). Ubud is a quiet town. I rented a bike and cycled around a little, including the Campuhan area and Monkey Forest.

I stopped at a hole-in-the-wall stall along a small alley off Monkey Forest Road. Ordered iced avocado juice. Was entertained by the antics of my 'waitress' who brought me my drink in sassy style. She happened to be in the shop buying grilled fish for her family, and gamely helped out. Also took photos of the proprietress, her daughter (striking resemblance) and another family friend.

Evening, 21st. Returned the bike. Walking along Jalan Kajeng. Saw a another homestay owner packing floral offerings unto his motorbike. Asked for permission to see his losmen, which he granted readily. Realized that his was a Legong (a traditional Balinese dance, danced by prepubescent girls in elaborate costumes) performing family. Saw his daughter doing her make-up. She was due to dance at a nearby temple in an hour.

Morning, 22nd. Woke up early. Walked to Ubud market at 7 am. Saw these mischievous boys as a got out of the losmen, along Jalan Kajeng. They playfully posed and strutted for me.

Ubud market was filled with people. Many women shoppers had already completed their shopping, and were heading home with their parcels balanced precariously on their heads.

Colourful stalls sold fruits, vegetables and flowers. Rose petals in all shades came in large baskets. This lady seller smiled coyly when she turned and saw me taking her photo.

For breakfast, I ate heavenly tuna sate (tuna meat was minced and flavoured with spices before being charcoal grilled, Rp 500/stick) and nasi campur of rice porridge mixed with vegetable-coconut salad and minced fish grilled in banana leaf (Rp 2K). Used my hand to eat it. Messy but good. Also slurped sweet black rice porridge (bubur injin) from the plastic bag.

The Balinese are big on ritual offerings. Canangs, small offerings of flowers and leaves piled onto tiny baskets woven from coconut leaves, are ubiquitous. They either make them themselves or purchase them from the market.

Morning, 22nd. Hired a driver for the day, and went on a tour of West and North Bali. On route to Gunung Batukau, saw a few cremation ceremonies. It happened to be an auspicious day for cremation. Cremation ceremonies often take place long after death, when sufficient money becomes available for the relatives to conduct the expensive ritual and when the date is deemed suitable. Effigies may be substituted for the actual corpse in the ceremony.

Halfway up Gunung Batukau, Pura Luhur Batukau was a tranquil oasis. There was a cremation ceremony going on in the central temple complex (tourist access was expressedly forbidden). Worshippers carried offerrings into and out of the temples.

After Guunug Batukau, I visted the Yeh Panes (hot spring), Jatiluwih, Pacung, Bedugul and Gitgit Waterfall in the north. My driver, Mr Agung, is pictured here having lunch with me at Cafe Jatiluwih - with stupendous views of rice terraces - and at Gitgit Waterfall.

Evening, 22nd. At the losmen Rojas, the family temple occupied a fairly large garden. The matriarch surveyed the grounds in preparation for a ceremony the next day. That night, before bed, the family was up busy preparing the offerings. They do this every 15 days. I did not get a chance to witness the ceremony. Morning, 23th. Flew home.

Malaysia, Penang, 9-11 Sep 2006: Dancing And DiningSojourn With Friends

2007-04-08T19:31:00.000+08:00

I went on a short trip to Penang to deliver 2 talks to thalassaemia patients, parents, nurses and doctors about diagnosing iron overload in the heart.

I had a room at the Crown Prince Beach Hotel, Tanjung Bungah. The view from my room, especially at sunset, was achingly beautiful.

Penangnites are well known for their hospitality. On the second day, my new Penang friends drove me to Gurney Drive for afternoon merienda, and then later to Ferringhi Beach for a sumptuous seafood dinner.

After dinner, there was some spirited dancing, Peranakan style.

On the last day, I had the choice of itinerary. I requested to go to Penang Road, for delicious chendol. You'd have to pay a little more to sit at the table in a nearby coffee shop to enjoy the chendol. They do a mean char kway teow too.

The last time I tasted these was almost 10 years ago ...

Barcelona, Spain, 31 Aug - 7 Sep 2006: La Sagrada FamiliaGaudi Gothic

2007-04-07T18:59:00.000+08:00

Antonio Gaudi dedicated the last years of his life to building La Sagrada Familia, his towering vision of the Holy Family and the Apostles in concrete. Eighty years after his death, Gaudi's masterpiece is still very much a work in progress. Construction of the central nave continues apace -the finished nave but a model in the underground Gaudi Museum - as awed visitors tread the grounds of the Church, solemnly tracing the Modernista pilgrim trail.

The Nativity Facade is a signature Gaudi original. Hate it ("wedding-cake-in-the-rain") or love it, the facade overwhelms with its grand scale and undulating surfaces dripping with foliate ornaments and myriad details - Gaudi's evocation of the rococco.

In contrast, the modern Passion Facade is angular and spare, but nevertheless powerful. The Glory Facade, soon to be finished, will add to the apparent disparateness of the Church, yet strangely augmenting the whole.

Unifying the different styles are the models on which Gaudi based his designs. Using curves, arches and hyperboloids, he conceived a new universe of pure geometric building forms - transcendent gaudiness that underscores the architectural genius and legacy of the man.

Barcelona, Spain, 31 Aug - 7 Sep 2006: Sardana Catalan Circle Dance

2007-04-01T16:04:00.001+08:00

A world removed from Spanish flamenco, Sardana - Catalonia's languorous folk dance - is the political symbol of Catalan solidarity and pride. On weekends, Sardana aficionados gather at Barcelona's Barri Gotic, eagerly waiting as the cobla, an amateur orchestra of usual brass as well as some other unusual instruments, gets ready. The cobla leader, a feisty silver-bearded gentleman, plays the piccolo-like flaviol to signal the start of the dance.

As the music swells, dancers link hands to form circles. These gradually enlarge as more people join in. Feet point, hop and skip in tandem to the repetitive shrill declamations from the band, responding with gusto and inborn instinct to the music's abrupt rhythmic punctuations. Deceptively simple, the dance steps can be tricky for the uninitiated. Notice the series of short steps, then a big sidestep to the left, and the long steps after the thematic transition.

At the periphery of the main ring, dance connoisseurs form exclusive tight rings. Brows knitted, eyes closed, foreheads uplifted and toes pointed, they celebrate the apotheosis of the Sardana spirit, dancing beautifully in perfect unison. For them, Sardana is religion. Novices are brusquely brushed off. Be warned.

Bangkok, Thailand, 13-16 Jan 2007: Chinatown Up Close Colours, Smells And Sounds

2007-03-31T18:41:00.000+08:00

Nestled between Yaowarat Road and Charoen Krung Road is a warren of side-streets. Battle the teeming crowds that throng the market. Raucous shouts, frantic bargaining, pungent aroma from strange seafood, raw, cooked or dried, fill the hot sweat-drenched air.

Bangkok, Thailand, 13-16 Jan 2007: Chatuchak Market After The Bombs, Business As Usual

2007-03-30T21:21:00.000+08:00

Two weeks after the 2006 New Year's Eve bomb incidents, our intrepid group of 7 arrived in a Bangkok unshackled from the fear and uncertainty that had gripped the city only days before. Business was as usual. Chatuchak weekend market spilled over with shoppers. Stalls hawked everything, from the banal to the exotic - tee-shirts, trinkets, lotus flowers, etc.

There were thousands of food stalls. Some sell cooked meals arrayed buffet style; others, dried seafood, stirfries, fruits, etc. Watch out for a young boy, barely ten, intently cracking tiny quail eggs over a burner, turning each expertly as it cooked. He then gingerly plied them into polystyrene saucers. Doused with fish sauce, 20 for a buck. Any takers?

We were surprised to find the (in)famous pet market still open, having read news of a recent clamp down on the animal trade. See, hear, smell and touch yelping puppies ("Pick me! Pick me"), screeching parakeets, jittery squirrels, etc. Not to everyone's taste, I guess.

Bangkok, Thailand, 13-16 Jan 2007: Grand Palace All That Glitters IS Gold

2007-03-30T06:19:00.001+08:00

Reigning supreme on the east bank of Bangkok's Chao Phraya River, the Grand Palace is the historical and cultural heart of the city. Scrupulously preserved, the surfaces of the temples are either densely covered with intricate colourful mirrored tiles or lovingly applied with layers of gold leaf. Phantasmagorical demons in classical poses buttress glittering tall chedi, forbidding entry to the gilded steps that lead to heaven. Palace rooftops stir alive as slender gold curved spires leap skywards from the apices.

Seville, Spain, 23 Feb 2007: Real Alcazar y Catedral Mudejar Palace And Gothic Church

2007-03-25T20:06:00.001+08:00

The Christian monarchs Alfonso X and Pedro I (the Cruel) employed Moorish artisans to build the Real Alcazar in the 14th century. The latter allegedly abandoned his wife, preferring to cavort with his favourite mistress in his new pleasure palace. The Alcazar houses fantasy courtyards like the Patio de las Doncellas and delightful gardens that combine a curious blend of Moorish and European influences. It remains the most complete and well-preserved specimen of Mudejar architecture in Spain.

Seville Cathedral is the world's third largest cathedral (after Vatican's St Peter's and London's St Paul's) and largest Gothic cathedral. Built on the site on a former mosque, only the minaret - refashioned as a bell tower La Giralda - and the orangery at the entrance remain. Climb up a seemingly endless series of ramps (designed to allow passage of sentries on horseback) to get to the top of the Giralda. From there, enjoy panaromic views of the massive naves of the Cathedral, the nearby Real Alcazar and the traditional dwellings of barrio Santa Cruz.

Cordoba, Spain, 22-23 Feb 2007: La Mezquita y la Sinagoga Moslem Marvel And Jewish Jewel

2007-03-25T16:24:00.001+08:00

While the rest of Europe was still mired in the Dark Ages, Cordoba was a medieval centre of religious learning and splendid cultural flowering. Under her tolerant Moslem rulers, Cordoba's Christians and Jews enjoyed relative religious freedom. Some, like Maimonides, even achieved prominence. Art, science, mathematics, medicine, philosophy fluorished. La Mezquita is the epitome of mosque architecture. A forest of over 800 marble pillars - salvaged from Roman and other ruins - support airy delicate double horseshoe arches that are decorated with alternating red and white stripes. An optical illusion multiplied several hundred times, the effect is mesmerizing. After Christian conquest, the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles V (yes, him again), commissioned the erection of a cathedral in the middle of the Mosque, against the wishes of the Christian city council. Doubly disappointed and dismayed by the meretricious result, he lived to regret his decision.

At the south wall of the Mezquita is the mihrab - a niche that symbolizes the gateway to Mecca. Unusually, this mihrab is not exactly aligned to Mecca, being oriented to the south instead of southeast. The mihrab and the dome above are beautifully decorated with gold mosaic tiles and lovely calligraphy. At her zenith, thousands of Moslem faithful would gather in the Mezquita for prayers. All faced the mihrab, rising and prostrating in unison to the exaltations of Quranic verses that reverberated solemnly throughout the vast grand space. Nowadays, Moslem worship is expressedly proscribed by Cordoba's Catholic bishop.

The Synagogue is one of three to survive the Spanish Inquisition. It is located in the heart of Cordoba's Juderia (Jewish Quarters)- a claustrophic labyrinth of narrow alleys and cul de sacs - a short walk from the Mezquita. Easily missed, its humble entrance is nearby a statue of Maimonides. The synagogue consists of a small square room with an upper level for women. On the walls are remains of ornate carvings of geometrical patterns and ribbons of exquisite arabesque calligraphy - surprisingly revealed to be Old Testament Hebrew verses.

Granada, Spain, 21-22 Feb 2007: Alhambra Grounds Generalife, Palacio de Carlos V And Alcazaba

2007-03-25T11:41:00.000+08:00

The Generalife at the northeastern tip of the Alhambra was the private pleasure garden of the Sultan. The peaceful quiet of the Water Garden is broken only by tinkling sounds emanating from the fountains. From the Generalife, cross the cypress-lined bridge walkway straddling the Rio Darro to get to the rest of the Alhambra grounds.

After conquering the Moors, the Spanish Christian Monarchs continued to reside in the Alhambra. King Charles V commissioned the building of a Renaissance Palace next to the Nasrid Palaces. The exterior is a monumental square edifice, while the interior comprises a round open court surrounded by double rows of classical Ionic atop Doric columns.

The Puerto del Vino divides the municipal and military compartments in the Alhambra. From under the gate's arched entrance, the Alcazaba stretches out to the southwestern limits of the palace, framed by the distant Sierra Nevada. Mighty towers loom over the city of Granada at the fortress' feet, vigilantly guarding the isolated Sultan against his populace.

Granada, Spain, 21-22 Feb 2007: Alhambra, Palacios Nazaries The Mexuar, Comares And Leones Palaces

2007-03-25T00:44:00.000+08:00

The Moorish Nasrid Palaces are the Alhambra's jewels. The complex consists of three interconnecting palace groups - the Mexuar Palace, the Comares Palace and the Leones Palace - and the Lindaraja Gardens. Elegant uncluttered lines and spacious courtyards harmonize with ingenious use of water landscape to create an oasis of unrivalled beauty. Due to Islam's prohibition against the use of imagery, the walls and ceilings of the palaces are replete with intricate geometrical designs and religious calligraphic art. They permeate the buildings - integral to the whole, never overwrought - subtly transforming with every shifting light throughout the day. The artisans used plaster almost exclusively for decorative stucco work and were experts in delicate alicatado mosaic tiling. They seemed to be cognizant of the impermanence of the worldly Earth, reveling in the ethereal frailty of their creations.

The Courtyard of the Mexuar leads from the Hall of the Mexuar to the Comares Palace. At the adjoining Golden Chamber, visitors waited to be admitted to the Nasrid Sultan's presence. On the southern side of the courtyard is an impressive facade of foliate stucco work that becomes increasingly intricate as the eye scales the wall.

The Comares Palace is the nucleus of the Nasrid Palaces. Simplicity of line and balanced proportions lend a serene majesty to the Courtyard of the Myrtles. The Comares Tower appears to magically float on the reflecting pool. Pluck a few leaves from the myrtle shrubs and rub them between the fingers - they emit a most wonderful and refreshing scent.

Leave the Courtyard of the Myrtles, and enter the Hall of the Boat. Observe the play of reflected light on the jambs at the entrance. Enter the Hall of the Ambassadors or Throne Room - the palaces' most sumptuously decorated room. Imagine the effect the Sultan had on his minions as he loomed half hidden in the shadowy central alcove at the far wall, silhouetted against the dappled light that filtered in through the filigree stained glass wall.

The Leones Palace was the Sultan's private dwellings. The central Courtyard of the Lions is surrounded by myriad slender columns - perhaps reminiscent of the palm trees in a desert oasis in the Sultan's longed-after homeland. The fountain with twelve lion statues, spouting water from their mouths, has been temporarily dismantled for conservation work.

The Hall of the Abencerrages and the Hall of the Two Sisters face each other on opposite ends of the courtyard. Both boast magnificent honeycombed plaster mocarabes ceilings. Legend has it that the former was believed to be the site of the infamous slaugther of the Abencerrages clan for one male member's alleged affair with the Sultana. The Hall of the Two Sisters, named for two large flawless slabs of Macael marble at the centre of the floor, leads into the Mirador of Lindaraja. The mirador's beautiful mullion window in the north wall overlooks the Lindaraja Garden, with trickling fountains set amidst fragrant orange trees.

Granada, Spain, 21-22 Feb 2007: Heart of AndalusiaView Of The Alhambra From The Albaicin

2007-03-25T00:18:00.000+08:00

Thirteen years ago, I read James Michener's Iberia. His heartfelt and personal reflections on Spain, a country he loves, has fired my fascination. Andalusia in the south of Spain, and above all the Alhambra, beckon alluringly. I finally get to see the palace now: the Alhambra glows a warm golden hue in the sunset.

Crowds - romantics, tourists, pensioners, hippies - congregate every evening at the Mirador de San Nicolas Church, high up in the Albaicin hill district. Some enjoy the view of the Alhambra quietly, others sing raucously. All celebrate.

Berlin, Germany, 15 Oct 2006: Jewish Museum Soaring Planes And Searing Angles

2006-10-24T11:24:00.000+08:00

Berlin's Jewish Museum, designed by Daniel Libeskind, is a dizzying construct of geometric forms and sharp edges. Adjoining walls, floors or ceilings seldom, if ever, meet at right angles. Rather the surfaces collide at angles off the perpendicular, conspiring to deceive the eye and the mind, inducing a curious state of mildly vertiginous disorientation, "This is level ground I am standing on, is it not?"

Clad in titanium-zinc plates, the building's imposing exterior is razor-slashed with clinical ferocity. Open lancinating wounds, intersecting narrow slits of window, let in austere shafts of light. The effect is complete. One is immediately seized and held hostage, overwhelmed by the raw power, stark vision and unnerving strangeness of the architecture.

Enter the museum via an underground passage from the baroque building next door. Three axes - Axis of Continuity, Axis of Exile, Axis of Death - lie at the foundation of the museum. Walk along the first and climb up a long flight of stairs - overhung by perilous slanting ceiling beams that appear about to tumble down any moment - to reach the permanent exhibit. The main building is skewered by a series of interconnecting void spaces that, desolate and impenetrable, are visible only through narrow glass windows cut into the wall at intervals.

The museum traces the two-thousand-year history of Jews in Germany, and documents their intellectual and cultural contributions. Racial hatred and discrimination, always beneath the surface, raised their ugly heads during the Nazi era. Jewish persecution began with racial laws in the 1930s. Geneology, abtrusely abused, marked Jews and half-Jews from the Aryan race. Miscegenation was verboten. The Holocaust erupted. In one of the void spaces, on the floor, thousands of metal discs resembling human faces - terror-stricken eyes wide open and mouth agape - look up at us: a deafening collective scream. In another, the faces are now gone; their imprints, a patina on the haunted silent ground.

Tall wedged-shaped black granite walls stand at various locations in the exhibition area. Strap on the special headphones. Go very near to the wall to hear the commentary. Nose almost touching the wall, Jerusalem's Wailing Wall comes to mind. Exit the exhibition. Walk along the undergound Axis of Death. At the end, enter the Holocaust Tower, a few at a time. Total isolation, sensory deprivation and cold fear close in. The confined bare concrete space is totally dark, except for light piercing a tiny aperture near the ceiling: the light and its reflection form a shining V, a vestige of hope.

Finally, go along the Axis of Exile. Names of cities absorbing the Jewish Diaspora line the walls of the corridor. Push open the rhomboid door at the end and step gingerly - the ground slopes off the horizontal - into the Garden of Exile. Forty-nine concrete stelae, or pillars, stand erect in a grid on a small square set below ground level. On the tops of all except one, plants thrive on Berlin soil. On the last stele, soil from Jerusalem has been symbolically laid.

Berlin, Germany, 11-15 Oct 2006: Gemaldegalerie Paintings Ladies Of A Certain Vintage

2006-10-21T11:10:00.000+08:00

West Berlin's Gemaldegalerie has a remarkable collection of early Netherlandish and Italian Renaissance paintings. Achingly vivid depiction of Woman is a major thematic cord that binds religious and secular art.
In Madonna in the Church by Jan v an Eyck, a larger-than-life Mary stands inside an intricately etched church interior, cradling the infant Jesus in her arms. A supernatural amber aura emanates from, and transfigures, the central figures. Rogier van der Weyden, van Eyck's contemporary and equal, imbued his subjects with unparalleled emotional depth and intensity that was revolutionary in his time. Woman Wearing a Gauze Headdress conveys with delicate sensitivity a Flemish noblewoman's demure confidence. The white gauze headdress, primly pinned into place, is a tour-de-force of finely woven details, translucency and textures. Petrus Christus' masterpiece Portrait of a Young Girl enthralls with the subject's petulant half-smile and detached gaze, drawing one to wonder, "Who is she?"

Peter Paul Rubens reenacted the Greek myth of Perseus Freeing Andromeda from certain ravage by the seamonster, to whom she has been sacrificed, with dramatic free brush strokes and luscious colours. She glows, nude, bowing in gratitude, as he, incarnadine cape furiously flapping, rushes forward.

More contemplative and sedate are Jan Vermeer's works. A magician at creating myriad light effects, his leitmotif is of scenes of everyday life set in rooms lit by natural light filtering in through open windows. The Woman With a Pearl Necklace holds her necklace carefully to the light, admiring its reflection in the mirror. In The Glass of Wine, we are voyeurs of the secret love life of the couple: witnessing the precise moment that temperance succumbs to indiscretion as wine trickles from the glass into her quivering hitherto chaste lips.

Frans Hals' Portrait of Malle Babbe incisively captures the crude sneering laugh of tavern proprietress 'Mad Babbette' aka 'The Witch of Haarlem'. An owl perched precariously on her left shoulder, she gruffly twists her thick torso around to countenance her customers with choice curses, giving as good as she gets.

The Dutchman Hal's restricted dark palette and grimy realism contrast sharply with the luminous pastels and ethereal beauty of the Italian Raffaello Sanzio's Colonna Ma donna (begun by Raffaello, completed by Ridolfo Ghirlandaio). Here, Mary's fresh-faced buxom country maiden fondly gazes at and quietly adores baby Jesus seated on her lap. He playfully clutches her decolletage, looking at us, grinning. The taut outstretched right arm artfully connects the holy duo compositionally.

Tiziano Vecellio painted four works of Venus with musicians, allegories to Love, Music's Muse. In Venus and the Organ Player, she is object of the latter's ogling. She, cool to his infatuation, is alas unattainable.

Inspired by Botticelli's similar painting, Piero di Cosimo's delightful Venus, Mars and Cupid shows Venus and her lover Mars in an idyllic landscape, the latter exhausted and spread out in deep post-coital slumber. Mars is utterly vanquished, his armour is in disarray; his arms, cherubs' toys. Feted by her son Cupid and a white rabbit, symbol of fecundity, supreme Venus presides over her spoils. Love conquers all.

Berlin, Germany, 11-15 Oct 2006: Ägyptisches Museum Berlin's Most Beautiful Woman

2006-10-18T23:13:00.000+08:00

The painted plaster bust of Queen Nefertiti is the jewel of Berlin's Egyptian Collection, currently housed on the upper floor of the Altes Museum. The classic lines of the heavy flat-topped crown sitting on the head supported by a sleek elongated neck, the deep vibrant colours, and the life-like portrayal of the ageless face, faintly lined at the outer edges of the lips and below the eyes, seem almost modern. Immediately, one senses the palpable tautness of the neck muscles and the regal serenity of her enigmatic one-eyed gaze. Unlike the right eye which possesses a dark crystal pupil, the left was left strangely unadorned. The bust was never complete, but instead probably used as a model in the studio of her great sculptor-creator Thutmose, where she was discovered unperturbed more than 3000 years later in Amarna.

Look also at other sculptures of Nefertiti in the museum. This one to the left reveals a youthful Nefertiti with somewhat more filled-out cheeks and a perfectly-shaped cranium. Another shows her more mature, standing with haunched shoulders, breasts drooping over a nascent middle-age paunch. In all these depictions, her person and unmistakable humanness transcend millennia to reach out to, grab and touch us.

Paris, France, 24 Dec 2003: Notre Dame de Paris Christmas Eve Mass

2006-08-15T21:22:00.000+08:00

Christmas Eve. Crowds pack into the cavernous Notre Dame Cathedral for Evening Mass. As the congregation waits eagerly in anticipation, the altar cross becomes brightly illuminated, drawing all attention to the Pieta at the base of the cross.

After the service, the men and boys' choir sings a plaintive French carol as the congregation files out of the pews. Some linger on wistfully.

Outside, Notre Dame's mighty bells toll resoundlingly. More worshippers crowd into the square in front of the cathedral doors, all queueing patiently for coveted seats to the Midnight Mass.

Paris, France, 14 Dec 2003: Musee Louvre Les trois dames et plus

2006-08-09T19:34:00.000+08:00

Musee du Louvre is the largest repository of antiquities and art in the world. Restoration of the august institution met with initial public outcry, but I M Pei's pyramids soon became the Louvre's favourite icons. The understated underground entrance atrium and brilliant light-filled courtyards in the Richelieu wing - Cour Marly and Cour Puget - are the architectural centrepieces from which collection-rich galleries radiate.

Three pieces - da Vinci's Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo and the Winged Victory of Samothrace - are the Louvre's undisputed mistresses. Priceless. Enigmatic. Ethereal.

Greek statuary line the sculpture gallery. Renaissance sculptors recapture Grecian artistry. Michelango's Rebellious and Dying Slaves convey a life-like contrast in curtailed muscular tension and flaccid resignation. Poetry in marble.

Antiquities from Egypt and the Near East, bounty from Napoleon's Egyptian expeditions, are a collection highlight. Hammurabi's Code is one of the first recorded wriiten laws, preserved in Sumerian cuneiform script on an imposing stela. Awesome.

Paris, France, 13-30 Dec 2003: Tour Eiffel Steel, Lights And Magic

2006-08-09T13:36:00.000+08:00

Eiffel Tower is the crowning glory of Paris' Left Bank. For a dramatic approach to the Eiffel Tower: take the metro, exit Trocadero station, bear left. The tower springs into immediate view unexpectedly. The impact is unforgettable. Champs de Mar - Fields of War - stretches south along the axis that extends from Palais de Chaillot across the Seine to Eiffel Tower, leading to the Peace Monument and Ecole Militaire at the other end.

At night, Eiffel Tower transforms into an illuminated jewel box. A beacon at its pinnacle beams proudly into the dark sky, drawing admiring gaze from near and far. The best view is from the terrace of the Palais de Chaillot. The audience waits with bated breath. On the hour, Eiffel Tower sparkles into live. All eyes stay glued as a scintillating light show play out in front of an appreciative audience.

Paris, France, 16 Dec 2003: Butte Montmartre Sacre Coeur And Surrounds

2006-08-09T06:38:00.000+08:00

Sitting magisterially on the summit of Butte Montmartre, the Basilica of the Sacred Heart - Sacre Coeur - dominates the the northern Parisian skyline. From her feet, the vast city of Paris spreads out interminably into the horizon.

Montmartre was the bohemian hub of French painters and artists in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Place du Tertre, a short stroll from the Basilica, breathes the vestige of this artistic heritage: the square is now inhabited by a plethora of street artists and caricaturists.

Nearby Abbesses metro station is famous for the Art Nouveau entrance and the spiral staircase flanked by colourful art murals that leads to rail tracks 30m below ground level.

Paris, France, 27 Dec 2003: Musee Rodin Sculptural Gems And Garden

2006-08-01T19:21:00.000+08:00

Before he died, Auguste Rodin bequeathed his life's works to Paris. Musee Rodin houses several of the artisit's sculptures in a beautiful building, Hotel Biron, just east of Les Invalides. The irisdescent golden dome of the Invalides Church, Napoleon Bonaparte's final resting place, overlooks the museum garden.

Rodin's sculptures inhabit the museum garden. The Gates of Hell was Rodin's first major commission. Phantasmagorical scenes of Hades from Dantes' Divine Comedy play out in vivid high relief. Full-sized realizations of elements like 'The Shades' and 'The Thinker' stand, or sit, in solemn vigil nearby, iconic symbols in their own right.

The Burghers of Calais is one of Rodin's most dramatic and powerful sculptures. During the Hundred Years' War, Calais was besieged by the English. The city had to surrender six of her elite for presumed execution. Six men, led by Eustache de Saint-Pierre, volunteered. Stripped of their outer garments, with nooses around their necks, the men poured out conflicting emotions of fear, desperation, sorrow and calm resolve as they marched to their uncertain fate.

The Kiss. Magic.

Ventimiglia, Italy, 26 May 2006: Friday Market By the Beach

2006-07-29T18:35:00.000+08:00

Ventimiglia, just across the Italian border, is about an hour's train ride from Nice. The old town virtually sits on the Mediterranean Sea. From here, a wide expanse of white pebbly beach stretches eastwards - the modest beginnings of the Italian Riviera.

Friday is Market Day. Seaside stalls hawk local produce and knock-off imitation goods. Visitors flock here, drawn by 12 Euro/kg Parmigiano Reggiano and 9 Euro/kg sundried tomatoes, etc - available at twice the price on the French side of the border.

Restaurants and cafeterias are plentiful; meal choices, unlimited. However, nothing beats the simple pleasures of freshly-baked lasagna and ice-cold aqua on a hot afternoon.

Eze, France, 29 May 2006: Eze-Village Walled Mountain Fortress And Nietzsche's Path

2006-07-29T05:35:00.000+08:00

Eze, a fortified village built on the peak of a rocky hill (460m above sea level) overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, is renowned for its expansive panorama. From Nice Gare Routiere, Bus 112 plies the Moyenne Corniche all the way up to Eze-Village, midway between Nice and Monaco: a 15-minute ride. From the bus-stop, climb a short way up an incline to the entrance of the famous Hotel Chevre d'Or. Bear right, and you'll suddenly find yourself transported back in time, immersed in the medieval surrounds of Eze-Village.

Spiralling cobbled passage ways going uphill and downhill, never flat, encircle Eze-Village. Houses with ancient stone masonry face one another across narrow streets, barely a few metres wide. The sky is glimpsed between overhanging rooftops. For more salutory vistas, dine at the verandah of the Chateau Eze, once owned by the Prince of Sweden, which reputedly gives the best views of the French Riviera. At a price.

To the right of the Hotel Chevre d'Or entrance, there is a little path, Nietzsche's Path, that goes round the hill face to reach Eze Bord-de-Mer, a seaside village at the base of the hill. A small clearing opens up a short distance down the path. From here, look right to see the exquisite terraced gardens that buttress Eze-Village.

Nietzsche, the writer-philosopher, used to climb up the path (a good one-and-a-half hour's brisk work; 45 minutes going down), and was especially inspired by the scenery. Here, he formulated major parts of his magnum opus Also sprach Zarathustra.

Eze Bord-de-Mer waits invitingly at the other end of the path. From here, take Bus 100 back to Nice. Alternatively, catch the train that runs along the Cote d'Azur.

Monte Carlo, Monaco, 28 May 2006: Formula 1 Grand Prix Rally

2006-07-16T19:16:00.000+08:00

The week leading up to the F1 Rally, Monte Carlo transforms into a magnet for racing enthusiasts. The streets of the principality are bedecked with flags sporting the favourites' colours and mascots. On Grand Prix Sunday, excited fans throng the town square, nervously anticipating the start of the race. Who will emerge victorious?

All over Monte Carlo, tall barricades block public view of the race track. Grandstand seats cost a few hundred Euros each. Other vantage points - bridges, terraces - are zealously guarded. No one gets past these keen-eyed officers without a valid ticket pass.

For the determined, it is still possible to steal a peek of the racing action for free. Follow the crowd uphill to a knoll overlooking the port. The outdoor dining area of a cafeteria at the peak offers a panoramic view. The race begins. The air reverberates in a long guttural roar as cars thunder past.

St Paul de Vence, France, 29 May 2006: Fondation Maeght Modern Art In The Forest

2006-07-10T00:03:00.000+08:00

One kilometre, or a 15-minute hike, from the medieval walled city of St Paul de Vence, Fondation Maeght houses an important modern art collection. The museum's clean lines and distinctive parabolic roofs blend gracefully into the tranquil forest surroundings.

The museum's garden is a treasure trove of sculpture. Animal-like totems stand solemnly in the shadows as soft sunlight filters through the dense foliage. A small chapel sits at the garden's end. Brague's stained glass window lets in coloured light. Trickling water bubbles through the innards of Bury's fountain, bringing the articulate steel limbs to animated life.

Beijing, China, 16-19 February 2006: Imperial Palaces Forbidden Palace & Summer Palace, In Winter

2006-07-09T13:42:00.000+08:00

The Forbidden Palace was the seat of Qing dynastic rule for over 400 years. Guardian lions and fantastical rooftop beasts stand in perpetual vigil, casting magic protection over the Manchu emperor and his royal retinue. Emperor Qian Long reigned 60 years. His calligraphic inscription Zheng Da Guang Ming - Incorruptible Righteousness - hangs above his throne.

Believed to ward off evil charms and spirits, auspicious red is everywhere. Palace walls and courtyard gates are coated in burnished crimson hues. Delicate ceramic tiles with recurring floral peony motifs adorn walls and columns.

The Imperial Garden, behind the royal palaces, edges the northern palace wall. Within its compact compound, stylized rock sculptures, miniature pavilions and countless ornamental trees, centuries old, are meticulously laid out, no doubt after strict Feng Shui principles.

The Summer Palace, Yi He Yuan, was rebuilt following Western army ruination, using war funds expropriated by the infamous Empress Dowager Ci Xi. It became her summer Xanadu. Palaces were erected on Wan Shou Shan - Longevity Mount - and on the banks of Kunming Lake at its base. Temples built for imperial religious edification dot the landscape. Times have not been kind. Beheaded Buddha statues are scarred reminders of zealous cultural purification in the 60's.

Kunming Lake freezes over in winter. Ignoring safety warnings, crowds clamour onto the ice to walk on the lake. On this late winter afternoon, the ice begins to thaw, creaking in protest as surface cracks develop under the increasing weight of intrepid lake amblers. Boats at the water edge, locked in the frozen grip of the icy lake, serve as steps into the lake.

A long gallery Chang Lang connects the pavilions ringing Kunming Lake. Strolling, I chance upon these women playing cards. With impenetrable quiet concentration.

Juan les Pins, France, 25 May - 2 June 2006: Beach Escape Lazy Afternoon Swim And Stroll

2006-07-08T21:58:00.000+08:00

Juan les Pins, between Cannes and Antibes, has some of the finest sandy beaches in the Cote d'Azur. It is easily reached by train. From the station, all roads radiate, fan-like, to the sea. Plush Art Deco condominiums pave the sidewalks as well as the beachfront.

The beaches are my favourite. Soothing bluish-green water beckons. Covered with fine white sand, the beaches are devoid of dangerous rocks. Nearer the centre are many private beaches. Food is sold, and parasols, chairs, towels rented out, at exorbitant prices. Just as enjoyable are the public beaches at the periphery. Beach shorts, towel and mat are all you'll need for a great afternoon's sunbathing. Swimming is great too. Climb into the sea slowly though. For the water chills, belying the sunny skies.

All too soon, it's time to get back. Fooling around at the Gare SNCF, Juan les Pins.
Waiting for the next train ... here it comes.

Antibes, France, 25 May - 2 June 2006: Marina And Vieuxville Pursuits, Gentle And Genteel

2006-07-08T15:32:00.000+08:00

Antibes is three train stops east of Cannes. From the train station, bear right and walk about 15 minutes through the city centre. Soon the boulevard opens to the Mediterranean Sea, where swaying palms and intense indigo waters warmly invite. Head to the water edge. On the left, spy a small public beach with sunbathers basking contentedly, and tall yacht-mansions berthed dowager-like in the marina beyond.

Antibes boasts an exceptional deep sea harbour and several premier marina. Luxury crafts - small, large and gigantic - of the rich and famous find ersatz homes in the ports of Antibes.

The old town, Vieuxville, sits on a peninsula. A small winding road, edged by antediluvian stone ramparts that ward off the Mediterranean's rampaging waves, leads to it.

Solid old stone townhouses line the meandering cobbled streets of Vieuxville. Dense bright, almost palpable, sunlight casts sharp opaque shadows in the hidden recesses and corners of the buildings, throwing features and details into high relief.

The townsquare of Antibes Vieuxville hosts a visiting German School Band. Shaded by an ancient tree, the band performs ABBA medleys and marching songs. The drummer is off-sync in 'Dancing Queen' but now redeems himself impressively with an explosive drum solo.

Retrace the way back to Antibes' modern city centre. In the square before the Grand Hotel, water fountains leap to life. Transfixed, sunbathers pay obeisance to the sun.

Back at Gare SNCF, Antibes. Rest and ruminate over the intricate patterns of train signal cables stretched taut. Others, more passionate, partake of delicious afternoon delights.

Cannes, France, 25 May - 2 June 2006: Film Festival Week After The Frenzy, Calm

2006-07-08T09:50:00.000+08:00

Cannes Film Festival is in full swing. Elaborate marquees, some topped with arabesque curved spires, line Cannes' beachfront promenade, Le Croissette. Beautiful people prance and parade here. Stars stage grand entrances. Bees to honey, the paparazzi have a field day.

West of Le Croisette, a flotilla of small crafts berths at the marina. Boats make regular runs to the nearby Iles des Lerins. Farther afield, beaches, public and private, stretch along the bay into the distant Esterel peaks, offering respite from ardent cinephiles.

Perched on a promontory near the marina, a fortress and belltower silently guard the old town, Le Suquet, that spreads beneath their shadows. Explore the cobbled streets. Quiet residences spring up unexpectedly a few doors away from the usual busy tourist shops.

On a cloudy drizzly post-festival day, solitary ships tail the coastline far from shore, uncustomarily forlorn.

Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, 3-5 July 2006: Plat du Jour One Day's Journey Into Night

2006-07-07T08:56:00.000+08:00

Breakfast & Lunch: Cafeteria Style

Snack in the Afternoon, Roadside Tropical Fruits

Dinner at Pho 2000, Pho Bo Heaven

Supper of Banh Mi 'Scrambled Eggs': Simply Delicious

Nightcap: Vietnamese Coffee with Condensed Milk, Iced; In Select Company

Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, 3-5 July 2006: King Of The Road The Bike's Tale

2006-07-07T03:46:00.000+08:00

The ubiquitous motorbike is the main form of transportation for the Vietnamese. They rule the streets of Saigon, converging on and squeezing out the pedestrian from all directions. Traffic lights and road markings are mere suggestions, not regulations, to be circumvented and capriciously ignored for expedience. Yet somehow, the system works. For traffic is rarely dangerously fast, and tempers are hardly frazzled. Everyone resigns to the chaos, even revels in it. Drown in the organic mass, and move with the flow.

Xe Om or motorbike taxi is a cheap way to get around HCMC. Each driver commandeers his turf by unwritten guild rules. The view from a Xe Om is daunting: inhale the exhaust of monster trucks that speed past within inches. Still, there are rewards. Nothing beats the invigorating rush of a Xe Om ride back to the suburbs on a cool breezy evening - I lodge in Phu My Hung, 8 km and 20 minutes southeast of Saigon.

Prepare to find anything and everything on a HCMC motobike: an entire family cramped into a heap, furniture, mattress, 8-foot long PVC tubes twisted in a taut bundle, ready to spring to erect life. Some are outright dangerous. No one in their right mind will carry this gas cylinder so precariously across town. Will they? The motorbike is a great social leveller. Young and old, male and female, rich and poor all ride it. Way to go, motorbike mama!

The motorbike is for its owner many things: pride, independence, freedom, a business, and yes ... a place to court and woo his mate. In densely-populated HCMC where home is often a small space shared by many, public display of affection, discrete or otherwise, between couples on motobikes parked by the roadside, is at once both touchingly tender and surprisingly well-accepted. For all these, the motorbike is scrupulously cared for. When not used, it retires in comfort in zealously guarded compounds, waiting faithfully for its owner.

Nice, France, 25 May - 2 June 2006: Baie des Anges Sunset

2006-07-03T01:15:00.000+08:00

Viewed from a vantage point at the foot of the Chateau Hill that fringes the eastern edge of Vieux Ville Nice, on a plaza triumphantly named Place du 8 Mai 1945, the setting sun blazes the cloudy sky in fiery pink, red, yellow and orange, across the Baie des Anges.

The 8-km long Baie des Anges stretches from the foot of the Chateau Hill on the east, running past Vieuxville and the Promenade des Anglais, to Nice Airport on the west. In the evenings at high tide, the Mediterranean Sea bubbles alive. Waves gnash and thrash as they pound the shingled dark pebble beach head: Neptune's plaintive cry to the heavens.

The sky bursts into brilliant opalescent hues as Apollo strains his last at day's labour's end.

Nice, France, 25 May - 2 June 2006: Buildings And Neighbourhoods (Un)Changing Faces

2006-07-02T21:56:00.000+08:00

Situated in north Nice, Gare SNCF is the first glimpse of the city for many visitors. Nearby is a lively working class neighbourhood, with many budget hotels, restaurants and ethnic shops. Strolling south towards the city centre and further on to the beach, the proletarian surrounds metamorphosises to one abounding with elegant neoclassical edifices. Promenade des Anglais, fronting the Mediterranean coast, houses some very fine mansions.

Handsome grand buildings line the boulevards along the beach front. Vieuxville at the east of town is a small district with many attractive well-conserved houses and artisanal shops. The early morning flower market at Cours Saleya is one of the largest in France. At night, the area around Place Rossetti transforms into a mecca of fine wining and dining.

Vieux Port is a quiet neighbourhood in the vicinity of the harbour at the eastern end of Nice. The harbour berths small seacrafts as well as passenger cruise ships bound for Corsica.

The city is swiftly changing. The main thoroughfare from the train station to Place Massena has been stripped and excavated. A railway line slicing the city centre into eastern and western halves is being constructed. Despite the ungainly fences, steel pilings and denuded tarmac, the charm of the city never fails to shine through.

Sydney, Australia, 16-18 May 2005: Edifices Modern Model Architecture

2006-06-24T07:14:00.000+08:00

Sydney Opera House

Sydney Harbour Bridge

Sydney Tower, the tallest man-made structure in Sydney,
stands atop Centrepoint in the City Central Business District

Budapest, Hungary, 13-18 May 2004: Buda, Pest, Szentendre A Perfect Day

2006-06-23T01:54:00.000+08:00

The Danube River bisects the city of Budapest into the hilly western Buda Hills and the eastern flat plains of Pest. Perched on the peak of Buda is the old-town Castle Hill district, with its many attractive conserved building and homes. The Royal Palace, which now houses an art museum, sits in quiet dignity, wielding magisterial sway over passing river traffic. Much of the Pest riverfront was ruined during WWII air bombardment. It has since been restored. From the Danube bank, broad boulevards, squares and parks extend hinterland.

Start the day very early. Stroll along the Pest bank of the Danube, and enjoy the wonderful views of the Buda Hills on the opposite bank. Cross the Liberty Bridge at the southern end of the city centre to reach the foot of the Gellert Hill. From here it is a 45 minute leisurely climb up a well-marked path to the Citadel at the top of the hill. The Citadel is virtually empty in the early morning. Enter freely. Stand on the fortress walls, and enjoy panoramic views of Pest. Study the Liberty Statue up close against the light of the rising sun.

Escape to Szentendre, 40 minutes by train, a picturesque lakeside town. Wander through the meandering alleys, and have lunch at one of the restaurants in the market square. Admire beautiful Hungarian lace sold at the many boutique shops. Cheaper alternatives are Romanian lace, arguably just as lovely, sold by gypsy women at the market stalls. Seek out the shop selling 'Kovacs' cloth and peasant-style clothes - white-on-indigo hand printed artisan items that are guaranteed not to fade.

Return to Budapest. Take the underground in Pest (the oldest in the world, and the most charming - with beautiful wall tiles and original wooden ticketing machines), get off at the last station, and head for the Szechenyi Thermal Baths. Spend the afternoon relaxing in the many pools, sauna, steam rooms. The mineral contents of the various waters are scrupulously detailed. The main outdoor bath has water at 38 degrees Celsius. Curl up fetus-like under the rhythmic patter of a spouting fountain and be transported back to mother's womb.

Ride the funicular up to Castle Hill district in Buda, and spend the evening there. Many of the famous sights are found near Matthias Church, which is beautifully illuminated at night

After dinner, descend from Castle Hill. Cross the elegant Chain Bridge to get back to Pest, from where the incandescent Royal Palace can be admired in her full glory.

Finish off the perfect day by having the best iced coffee at Gerbeaud, the oldest and best dessert shop in Budapest, on Vorosmarty Square.

Miami, United States, 18-23 January 2006: Miami Vibes Art Deco By The Atlantic

2006-06-18T09:39:00.000+08:00

Miami Beach - Sky, Sea & Sand. There is no better way than to spend a day on Miami's South Beach. Blue sky and emerald sea beckon with siren calls. Want to get away from the crowd? Promenade on beach-hugging prime Art Deco real estate. Return to the beach in the evening - you can have the beach all to yourself, almost.

Miami: Capital of Art Deco; The Royal Palm: Art Deco Gem

Miami Sights: Street Vibe; Beach Palms

Quiet Evening at the Beach

London, United Kingdom, 12-20 December 2005: British Museum Favourite Antiquities

2006-06-13T04:16:00.000+08:00

Central Courtyard Ceiling & Round Reading Room; Bloomsbury Entrance

Egyptian & Aztec Statuary

Lapith & Centaur, Metope, Parthenon; Selene Horse, East Pediment, Parthenon

Wounded Lion, Lion Hunt Relief, Assyrian Art

London, United Kingdom, 12-20 December 2005: Royal Parks Kensington, Hyde And Regent

2006-06-13T02:06:00.000+08:00

Neighbouring Kensington Park and Hyde Park are oases of tranquility in the midst of the hustle and bustle of central London. Catch rays of sunlight dance between the filigree of naked tree branches. Watch swans glide gracefully across the icy lake. Snatch fallen leaves as they spiral silently to the ground, and expire, turning white, ochre and brown.

Quintessentially English, Regent's Park in North London is a perfect getaway. It combines natural woodlands, fields and elegant gardens, to make a refreshing whole. There is much to explore and enjoy. Climb Primrose Hill, the tallest in London, and see a panoramic view of the city.

London, United Kingdom, 12-20 December 2005: Monuments From Wren To Foster

2006-06-13T00:43:00.000+08:00

Trafalgar Square is flanked on two sides by the National Gallery - one of the world's finest repositeries of western art - and the Church of St Martin-in-the-Fields. On this late autumn-early winter evening, it is suffused with a warm golden glow. Pigeons are everywhere. Despite government efforts to curb their numbers, pigeons remain very much the Square's permanent citizenry.

London Eye & Parliament, View from South Bank; Tower Bridge, View from Tower of London

Guardian Lion, Base of Nelson's Column; Skating, Somerset House

St Paul's Cathedral & Millennium Bridge

Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, 4-6 June 2006: Street Life Ben Thanh Market And Surrounds

2006-06-12T05:52:00.000+08:00

I come back to Vietnam again for a short visit. On a Sunday evening, the streets and parks of District 1 in HCMC are filled with families out for a stroll. A boisterous crowd gathers at Pham Ngu Lao, where bottles of Coca Cola are given out free. A questionable practice, perhaps. Waiting eagerly in anticipation of their coveted prize, this pair of young friends is blissfully unencumbered by ethical deliberations.

Saigon's streetfood is justifiably famous. Banh Xeo is a crispy egg-flour pancake with prawn, streaky pork and beansprout filling, eaten wrapped in aromatic greens and dunked in a chilli-fish sauce dip. Each costs 10,000 VND (approximately US 65 cents). Simply sublime. Ben Thanh market hawks everything you will care to need: in this case, dried seafood - shrimps, fish, scallops, squids - carefully graded into myriad classes by size, quality and price.

Travel Impressions Of The Cote d'Azur From Nice, West To Cannes, East To Ventimiglia

2006-06-11T03:50:00.000+08:00

A frequent train service stops at most towns along the coast of the French Riviera, and extends eastwards to the Italian town of Ventimiglia. Buses provide additional links to the hinterland. Most places are accessible by public transport.

These are some pictures of my journey along the Cote d'Azur, 25th May to 2nd June 2006. They have been chosen to capture the light, colour and atmosphere of each locality. Enjoy.

Movie Star Mural, Bus Station, Cannes; Drinking Fountain, Le Suquet, Cannes

Me on Beach, Juan-les-Pins; Town Square, Antibes; Cobbled Street, Vieux Ville, Antibes

Palm Tree & Tower, St Paul-de-Vence; Window & Balcony, St Paul-de-Vence

Still-Life: Flan & Pear, Vence; Chateau Grimaldi, Cagnes-sur-Haut

Road Works, Place Massena, Nice; Train Station, Nice

Evening Scenes I & II, Vieux Ville, Nice

Tower & Walls, Eze; Window & Lamp, Hotel Chevre d'Or, Eze

Sun-Worshippers I & II, Cap d'Ail

Train Station, Monte Carlo, Monaco; F1 Rally Practice Day, Monte Carlo, Monaco

Flowers, Friday Market, Ventimiglia, Italy

Bangkok, Thailand, 13-15 February 2006: Dancers Human And Vehicular

2006-05-22T06:40:00.000+08:00

Gracing a supermarket Valentine's Day promotion, colourful folk dancers performed to an appreciative lunchtime street crowd, the soles of their bare feet impervious to the blistering heat of the baked pavement. At the Chatuchak station, lines of people snaked their way to the bazaar, engaging in a sinuous tango with the long chain of buses that stretched interminably into the horizon.

Atlanta, United States, 10-14 March 2006: Centennial Square Evening Cityscape

2006-05-21T20:42:00.000+08:00

Sun-Down Down-Town

Stockholm, Sweden, 29 Aug - 8 Sep 2005: Scandinavian Beauties Stockholm And Uppsala

2006-05-20T22:37:00.000+08:00

Stockholm is an archipelago made up of thousands of islands. Diverse seacrafts berth along the island shores - shifting silhouettes that frame the shimmering golden glow of the famed waterfront at sunset.

Handsome townhouses line the maze of tiny streets and alleys of the Gamla Stan. Along the coast of Kungsholmen, site of former royal palace quarters, stately mansions bask in the afternoon sun, gleaming rich hues of autumnal gold and red against a cobalt sky.

An hour's train ride away from Stockholm, Uppsala town boasts a renowned university. August town icons, the Domkyrkan and Uppsala Slott stand in narcissistic revelry, meditating on their own reflections.

Uppsala University's men's choir performs a cappella madrigals and Beatles' Yesterday, in the magical medieval setting of Uppsala Slott.

Beijing, China, 16-19 February 2006: Da Zha Lan Hutong Life And Scenes

2006-05-16T21:48:00.000+08:00

Shuan Yang Rou or Mongolian hotpot of thinly-sliced lamb, is a perennial Beijing favourite on cold winter nights. In this neighbourhood restaurant in Da Zha Lan, the proprietors' toddler son Xiaoxi ('little happiness') entertained dinner guests with his antics. While daddy busied in the kitchen and mummy waited, gregarious Xiaoxi cajoled for savoury lamb morsels from the patrons. Roundly chastised by a harried mummy and threatened with 'ma ma da pi gu' ('mummy's gonna smack your bottom'), he bawled hot tears. The sorrow was however short-lived. He soon burst into spontaneous laughter as mummy looked on approvingly with obvious joy and pride.

A little southwest of Tiananmen Square, Da Zha Lan is a labyrinth of streets lined with old-style Beijing hutong housing. Extant since the Ming dynasty, the hutong is fast disappearing as entire neighbourhoods are gouged out and functional edifices erected in place. Many residents depend on coal for heating and cooking, adding to the infamous city pollution. Coal fuel, often found stacked neatly outside doorways, are sold by itinerant peddlars who ferry their considerable loads somewhat precariously on bicycle trolleys.

This Moslem street chef hawked halal pancakes with chilli paste, freshly-cracked egg, spring onions, and crispy beancurd wafer filling. You would make an order and place your money on a tray near the gridle. The man then carefully handled the bills and change by means of a strategically-held tweezer, all the time scrupulously keeping his hands untainted. Costing 2 yuans each, these pancakes made for a scrumptious breakfast.

Zhongsan Park, just west of the Imperial Palace, was an oasis of quiet from the madding tourist crowds. From here, the external walls of the Forbidden City glowed amber as the dying sunset rays slid across the glistening frozen moat.

Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, 2-5 April 2006:Viet Vibes First Impressions

2006-05-15T01:39:00.000+08:00

I love Vietnam. The food is great, and the street life is the liveliest. I chanced upon this pair of ladies on a sidestreet (I did not know where, being blissfully and gleefully lost). The young lady was shaving the densely powdered face of the other with a naked razor blade. The grace and taut posture of the former - especially the well-turned left ankle - befits a classical ballerina. They both laughed softly when they discovered me taking their photo. The older woman cupped her face with both hands like a chastened maiden.

The dark and cool interior of the nail salon provided a respite from the blazing afternoon sun. This young manicurist was the perfect embodiment of Vietnamese serenity and beauty. She gazed intently as she gingerly trimmed the nails, her mouth occasionally breaking into a hesitant smile.

Motorcyclists rule the roads in Ho Chi Minh City. They ride as a pack, but will miraculously part and weave around you when you walk across the road. Pillon-riding on motocycle 'taxis' is a cheap and exhilirating way to get about town. However, be forewarned: helmets are neither required nor provided.

Tagaytay, Philippines, 7-9 April 2006: Taal Vista Sleeping Volcano And Resort

2006-05-14T23:50:00.000+08:00

I fly into Manila noon, Friday. The car ride to Tagaytay is a good 2 hours' battle through the notorious thick city traffic. It is made dizzyingly longer by the interminable bumps along the way. Relief, however, is sweet at journey's end.

Tagaytay is a resort town built on the rim of a volcanic crater that holds a lake with yet another sporadically active volcanic cone within. The latter is veiled by a pall of mist that appears to hang over the lake year-round, except during the driest of high summer months. The view of the lake from the terrace of the Taal Vista Hotel is stupendous.

Taking a short morning walk from the hotel, I find myself in a village. Zinc-roofed huts and narrow walking paths of well-trodden earth form a haphazard labyrinth, from which the occasional denizen emerges, sometimes with startled timidness, but mostly with studied indifference.

The tranquility is broken abruptly by a cacophony of multi-colour balloon-decorated jeepneys. They are a gay, glorious and godly Church-going procession. For today is Palm Sunday.

Davos, Switzerland, 24-26 June 2005: Wanderer FantasyLake, Mountains And Valleys

2006-05-14T21:02:00.000+08:00

Summer 2005, I was in Davos, my first visit to Switzerland. The weather was hotter than I had expected, but the scenery was achingly beautiful. My favourite photo is the one above of Davoserhof seen at a distance from the opposite bank of Davoser See. Seven in the morning. The village was stirring awake as the twilight-tinged gray clouds began to lift. I saw less than a handful of people during my solitary one and a half hour walk.

Hiking through the valleys, one takes in the full measure of Mother Nature's bounty: azure skies, cottony clouds, distant snow-capped mountain ranges, emerald prairies, and rippling streams. Shade from adjoining hills cooled and refreshed the air. The senses bristled alive to the assault of dappled colours, cold stillness that shot up the nose, and tinkling of rushing rivulets.

We ascended Jakobshorn on a cable car. After which, it was a short but relatively tough climb (for me) along the spine of the mountain to the peak (slightly over 4000m above sea level). The view of the Swiss Alps from the top was breath-taking.

It was a lovely trip. I wish to return some day. Perhaps in winter next time.