Travelling with teens: TL;DR

(There was supposed to be a part 3 but how many parts should a morning be broken into before you lose the will to live write about it? AND the trip was in 2016. Sad.)

Basically, you will waste the entire morning waiting for everyone to get up and get ready to go out for the day.

People will meander to and from the breakfast table, and when you finally make your way out, it's time for lunch and another 2 hours will be spent deciding on where to go and what to eat because after all you're in Penang, where all the good food is, so you have to go for the very best.

[eyeroll]

As much as I love my relatives, travelling in a pack is a big pain in the ass and I'd much rather not do it. 

Traveling with teens: Part 2

The night everyone arrived, the Grams brought us (all 12 guests!) to dinner at an ikan bakar* place along Lebuhraya Lim Chong Eu nearer to Bayan Lepas. There are at least 2 ikan bakar eateries, and we went to the one farther in, i.e. Nurul Ikan Bakar.

I'm told that ambra/ambarella (seriously) juice is a must-have in Penang**, which is what we ordered. The pitchers came filled with crushed ice and ambra juice, and a buttload of sugar. The ice is supposed to melt while you chat and eat, and at the end of the meal you have an invigorating tasty beverage. Except everyone was parched, so we resorted to diluting the stuff with cold water. It was still too sweet even after that.

I forgot what fish we had (I mean, we were there in March!), but it came on a banana leaf and was topped with fiery red chili sauce. There was also sambal on the side, and I think it disagreed with me...

Another Penang must-try is sotong kangkung, which is boiled (?) cuttlefish and water convolvulus served with rojak sauce***. It's meant to be a starter and has an interesting crunchy texture, but comprises my 3 least favorite flavors.

*Grilled fish
**Depending on who you ask, there are any number of must-haves.
***I think you're supposed have a salty-sweet-spicy sauce, and I suppose rojak sauce ticks all those boxes.

Traveling with teens: Part 1

On impulse, Enfant Terrible and I went to Penang during the school holidays with my aunts and their families. We stayed at Aunt Debra's parents' (the Grams) place in Island Glades, which is a quiet old suburb on the island.

Obviously, they don't call Penang a food paradise for nothing. The afternoon we arrived, Enfant Terrible and I made straight for a nondescript Indian restaurant canteen on Lebuh Acheh. It's just a few lots down from the very nice Armenian Street Hotel; it's supposed to be called Muthu's Restaurant but it doesn't have a signboard. In fact, you'd miss it entirely if you weren't looking for it.

ET and I looked inside first before entering. The half-dozen or so patrons, all Indian men of the mien that would make you cross the road to avoid if you encountered them at night, peered right back. Then we stepped in and got ourselves 2 banana leaf rice meals and everyone went back to eating.

By contrast, the staff looked more clean-cut and the food was excellent. They serve parboiled rice by default, it seems, and a marvellous mutton soup in place of the de rigueur rassam, which had run out. You can forget about bone broth once you've had this miraculously meaty-tasting mix, which actually contained no meat (or bones).

Brows sweaty and noses runny from the unbelievably thick and rich crab curry (other options are fish, chicken, dal), we stepped out once more into the unforgiving heat, determined to traipse around the Georgetown Heritage Zone as much as we could before the rest of my family finally made it to Penang.

Like, we'd left at 830 AM, the same time as Aunt Andrea did, only Uncle Andrea is a more cautious driver than ET and probably subsequently racks up fewer speeding summonses. Our indirect host, i.e., Aunt Debra, and her family left Kuala Lumpur about 3 hours later (!).

FYI, it takes 3-4 hours to drive from Kuala Lumpur to Penang Island, excluding the heavy vehicle traffic you encounter as you go through Ipoh. As in, you're merrily humming along at 80-100 kph and exiting a tunnel when you have to lean really hard on the brakes because about 200 m ahead is a lorry laden with god knows what chugging uphill so slowly it's practically at a standstill. And that's what you keep encountering for the next 40 km or so.

Eating in Kota Kinabalu

Sun setting on Kota Kinabalu

These are the (fantastic and mediocre places) Enfant Terrible and I ate at when we were in KK in August. All places are on Gaya Street unless specified otherwise. All meals were paid in cash.

People at airports

(I should be hustling but this is way more fun.)

Though I should know better than that, a comment I read on facebook pissed me off. The original post involved photos of Syed Azmi, Malaysia’s best known do-gooder (I mean that as a compliment), making the rounds at an airport in the wee hours of the night (morning?) and leaving snacks and drinks beside everyone who was asleep there.

The commenter asked why he would do that when surely there were poor people in the city who were more deserving of his charity than the “rich people” at the airport.

A Southeast Asian (and n00b) camping guide to the Greenman Festival

Background
Enfant Terrible had gotten Settlers' Passes to the 2015 Greenman Festival. Meaning we'd camp at the Glanusk Estate, Wales, for SEVEN days. We watched as the vast, peaceful, green fields of the estate filled up over the week and were eventually overrun on day 3, when the General Camping horde arrived and put down stakes (hehe).

Bring all the food!
Festival food is always expensive, more so given the exchange rate when we were there (RM6.70 = £1.00... ouch), and the portions are always tiny. So, buy foods you can cook/heat quickly and that ideally don't require slicing/much seasoning.

We had baked beans, canned soup, powdered mash potatoes (which needed more salt), fruit, local bread, and ROBERTSON'S GOLDEN SHRED MARMALADE :3

Beauty. Image from here.

One of the best things about the Glanusk Estate Greenman Festival site (in addition to being astoundingly beautiful) is that it is a brisk 40-minute walk to Crickhowell town. The town has at least 2 grocers and excellent cafés (Courthouse Café, burger at eighteen). It is a very nice town with very nice people. Wales is full of nice people who call you "love" or "darlin'" if they don't know your name.

TMBT 2015: A race report of sorts

Introduction
Technically, only participants write a race report. Still, "race widow report" doesn't have the same ring to it, you know?

(I know "[hobby] widow(er)" sounds morbid, but it just indicates you've "lost" your spouse to their interest. You don't even need to be married; you qualify if you have a significant other!)

So, first: TMBT = The Most Beautiful Thing, referring to the Sabah landscape. TMBT can also stand for That Murderous Bloody Trail, or Terrible Muddy Ratched Trap, or Treacherously Mindbending Running Torture, and other more descriptive terms. I could go on.

TMBT distances this year were 12, 28, 50, and 100 km. The last 2 are ultra-marathon distances, which I'm sure need not be explained (they exceed marathon distances).

As you know, trail races are more difficult than road races because the terrain is uneven, and you might run into trees, get stung by bees, and/or fall into a river (I have not experienced the last). You'll definitely get dirty, especially if it rains/has rained.

Every year, it's as if TMBT organizers ask themselves what the most difficult route could be, and map that out. Naturally, hundreds of runners, if not a thousand or so (this year), sign up for it. Some even pay for a hotel package. All this for a route that can involve uphills of ~15k or more.

People on trains: A comparison

Biggest pizza I ever saw in my life (VivoCity, Singapore)

Singapore
EVERYONE is watching some serial or playing a game on their phone. Candy Crush appear to be the top game, followed by Jewel Saga (looks like), Fruit Ninja, et al. Others FaceBook, Instagram, or er, look up sex advice (as seen over someone's shoulder). Outfits run the gamut from pasar sloppy and laborer dusty to high-end night out (because Singapore public transport is just so damn good).

L'Institut du Monde Arabe (Paris)

Paris
People read stuff like Balzac and Voltaire. French men actually wear those boat hats. No berets in the summer (obviously). Clothing tends to be various shades of white and brown (white people), and brighter colors (other ethnic groups). But everyone looks effortlessly light and chic and ready for summer. Unlike the tourists, who just look frazzled.

Concorde Metro stop, obviously (Paris)

London
Every stop we went to just served to demonstrate why London is considered one of the most fashionable cities in the world. Immaculate style and incredible range (corporate, corporate casual, smart, smart casual, street, smart street, and other looks whose names I don't know). All ladies had their warpaint on. Cat eye makeup is still in. People read (book or e-book), work, or stare into space. You need wellies (rain boots) even in the summer.

ArcelorMittal Orbit sculpture by Ashish Kapoor (Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park, London)

This one was too purple to leave out (Covent Garden, London)

Strangers you meet

[A bus stand in Abergavenny, Wales]

The bus we want is scheduled to arrive in 40 minutes. We wait right at the bay, seated on the pavement. A pudgy guy in a tracksuit joins us. He has an Aldi's plastic bag.

Pudgy pulls his phone out and checks his messages and social media, then plugs in his earbuds. The he rummages through his bag, and winds up emptying it. I can see a 1.5-L bottle of Coca Cola, more bags of crisps/potato chips than he needs, and some household miscellany.

Pudgy puts the bigger, heavier items back in the bag first, then the smaller, lighter ones. He pulls them out again. He repacks the bag. And again. I guess he's trying to pack it efficiently, but you can only do so much with a 5-L plastic bag.

Suddenly, one the two old ladies who had been sitting on a low wall across the street from us strides over. Pudgy doesn't even notice her, only looking up when she says:

"I've come to save the day, love!"

She hands him another plastic bag! A bigger and sturdier-looking one!

Pudgy looks up, and a big, happy smile spreads across his goofy face.

"Aw, thank you, darlin'!" he says. His heroine smiles back and rejoins her friend.

*Pronounced "abergavoni".

How to do nothing in Kota Kinabalu: A 6-day account

Day 1
- Arrive from KL; register at TMBT counter; check-in to downtown hotel; chill until it's time for early dinner (Mad Ben: mussels in white wine with spaghetti [fab], lamb burrito + fries [best ever], thin-crust lamb pizza [excellent though small]); sleep.

Waiting to cross the bridge to the start point. Only 10 people per crossing!

Things learnt from mountain biking

1. If you're going to crash, aim for a small tree or bush. Big trees will hurt you worse, or kill you.
2. If you and a small tree are being inexorably drawn together by the charisma of your careening bike, put your head down and let your helmet take the brunt of it (learnt from experience).
3. When riding through a sandy, twisty trail lined with thorny bushes and/or whippy plants, lean forward and keep pedalling to prevent the bike from swerving.
4. In the kilometer 30 under the unmerciful blaze of the afternoon sun and with lunch another 15 km away, use your damn gears and keep pedalling.
5. Visualize that cool drink and keep going.
6. A warning shout to the stray dog(s) napping in the middle of the road is always good.
7. When keeping clear of a larger, faster vehicle, it's better to just ride through the muddy puddle than steer along the extreme edge of the track. Dirt washes off (a very good mantra for everything); broken bones don't.
8. Use rear brakes more than front brakes to avoid flying over the handlebars.

Aw-koon (thank you), Cambodia!

Primer for out-of-town races

This is what I've learnt when participating in an out-of-town race:
1. Book your hotel early. Do it once you've confirmed your race participation. Don't show up the day before race day trusting your luck. The hotels in the vicinity will tell you they're full. You won't want to shell out for a 4-star room. At least most towns have a 24-h McDonald's or Starbucks now.
2. Eat 1-2 bananas per day starting at least 2 days before race day. You need to prime yourself to answer the call of nature before it even rings. Whatever distance you run, exertion-induced shit cramps are never welcome.
3. Prioritize proper eating. Out-of-town races mean reconciling travel eating habits (usually haphazard) with the necessary proper nutrition. You've trained for the race all these months; it doesn't make sense to risk your prospects with that aromatic meal from that rickety stall in that shady alley (you know the type). Save it for after.
4. Give yourself time. Arrive early enough to get a feel of the lay of the land, collect your race pack, investigate local attractions, and rest. Stay for a day or two to make the most of your mini-holiday.* Friends and family will loathe you for planning things so well.
*Hopefully, you'll have enough annual leave days and funds for the "actual" holiday season as well.

Mee kolok

The most ubiquitous thing in Kuching, Sarawak, is the mee kolok. I don't know what dialect the name comes from, but for those who have not had the opportunity, it is one-bowl meal of noodles (traditionally) tossed in lard and topped with slices of char siew, ground pork, and slivered spring onions.

There are pork-free versions, of course, though I wouldn't vouch for their halal status. The lard is replaced by some other rendered fat, maybe chicken. "Special" versions feature seafood, pig offal, or sometimes both. Die-hard enthuasists like my dad would try all versions, but inevitably conclude that the original pig version has a je ne sais quoi that is impossible to replace.

The breakfast of champions. And many Sarawakians.

Personally, I prefer Sarawak laksa. All basic versions don't contain pork, though the stock might. In any case, I like the al dente springiness and recalcitrant curliness of a mee kolok noodle. Without it, it's just another plate of ho-hum Kuala Lumpur wantan noodle.

Local flavour

I remember writing a fluff piece, when I still wrote fluff pieces around 2011, about staycations. The economic downturn was still hitting the Americans hard, though I believe Malaysia was less affected, if at all. 

In fact, people are still talking about staycations. Whether you're cash-strapped or platinum-carded, the idea is appealing: take your vacation days but don't leave town. Hit your own town like a tourist. Pessimistically, that could mean "spend 3 to 4 times what you usually would for lunch/pay exorbitant prices for souvenirs (... what?)/get food poisoning or sunburn or both/squabble in the car or get carsick or both".

Furthermore, no hotel staff will make your bed, leave mints on your pillows, and there will be no cheerful "Good morning!" at the breakfast table because it's your own breakfast table and no one else in the family is on staycation. And you'll still have to do your own laundry.

via West Cobb Magazine

Overheard on a boat

Wherever you travel, day excursions are a great way to meet people from other countries. You'd be surprised by the things you never knew you never knew. Enfant Terrible and I went snorkeling in Krabi, and there was a group of Americans on the long-tail boat:

[At a snorkeling spot. Some opt to remain onboard while the others splash around in the water. A young American woman (YA) makes small talk with a non-American woman (NA).]

YA: Where are you from?
NA: I'm South African, but I was born in Namibia.
YA: *gapes* Where?
NA: Namibia.
YA: Wow, where is it?
NA: *bemused* It's in Africa.

[Those on board start tuning in in earnest.]

YA: Namibia is in Africa? Oh my god... I'm doing geography and I've never even heard of Namibia!
NA: Well... it's a pretty small country.
YA: Oh my god, "Namibia"... what's it called, really?
NA: Er... Namibia.
YA: Wow.

[YA's friends climb back onto the boat.]

YA: You guys, this is [Woman] and she's from Namibia!

Elswhere, the Thai name for "fox" is also "musang".

Differing expectations

Every time we come back from a holiday, Enfant Terrible and I ask each other where we should go next. Every time we go on holiday, I ask myself why I keep travelling with this boyfiend. The scenario runs thus: we arrive at the destination, check in, freshen up, and walk around town. Then:

He: What shall we do tomorrow?
Me: Laze on the beach!
He: Nah, let's do something more active.
Me: Er... walk up and down the beach?
He: *spots a tourist info booth* LET'S GO FOR AN ALL-DAY MOUNTAIN BIKE RIDE.

So yes, I have gone on an all-day mountain bike ride and I can still feel the imprint of the saddle on my tender bits. Hurrah, modern life.

Travel tips: Grooming

The only thing you're allowed to neglect when you go on a beach holiday in Koh Samui is your internet habit. Other than that, you owe it to yourself and the pictures you will take to take care of yourself.

This sign at Big Buddha temple says, "No matter how big (important) you are in life, you will always be smaller than your coffin."

How to lose 2 kg in 2 weeks without even trying

Step 1: Board evening flight to Chengdu, China; eat in-flight meal; steal airsickness bag in an extraordinary display of prescience.
Land in Chengdu 5 hours later, feel spirits sink at sight of the omnipresent smog, visible even at night.
Endure hair-raising van ride through said city; driver reassures you and other passengers with, “Don’t worry about the other cars; there’s no racing tonight!”

Step 2: Turn up nose at extremely alien hotel breakfast – cold spicy noodle with assorted pickled veg, or what appear to be veg, watery, bland congee, and watery bland soybean milk.
Spend the afternoon tramping around hateful smoggy city because hotel stipulates 12:00 checkout and your train only leaves at 20:59.
Arrive back at hotel, which is where van driver in Step 1 will pick you up and send you to the train station. Realise you’ve left something extremely important in the restroom of a café in a mall on the other side of town.
Cue Amazing Race sprinting-with-backpack-to-catch-the-right-bus sequence to and from destination, and within stipulated time limit (30 minutes). Keep winning.

The importance of being prepared

My mother and I had the following conversation at a "luggage fair" while looking for a bag capacious and handy enough to lug around for 2 weeks:

Me: I'm gonna look for a haversack.
Mum: It'll be heavy; you'll have trouble carrying it.
Me: Yes, if I carried on my head, for sure.
Mum: *grumble*
We: *browse*
ME: OMG LOOK at this one! It's for 80 liters! It looks just like the one [cousin] brought when he came to KL! I should get it! Everything will fit into it!
Mum: It'll be HEAVY.
Me: But [cousin] has one...
Mum: [Cousin] is a lumberjack*, he can handle an 80 liter backpack!
Me: [Cousin] is NOT a lumberjack ffs; he works in timber!

So, I don't have a backpack taller than me, but I do now have a backpack that is about half my height and looks deceptively small. Things disappear inside its gaping maw and retrieving them feels like I'm risking a trip down the rabbit hole.

Yes, it is comfortable; what's more, it comes with an operating manual and a loop for an ice axe. It has more snaps and buckles than I ever imagined could fit on a bag, too, and I'm slightly afraid of getting tangled up in it when I put it on, much less turn turtle.

* Everyone knows there are no such things as lumberjacks anymore; only chainsaws.

One Buddha a day

This is just a supplement to the previous statement that I was born on the day of Reclining (not Sleeping) Buddha. However, there are also some who assert that Tuesday is Sleeping Buddha day.

Sleeping Buddha image from Buddha-Images.com

What's the difference? Reclining Buddha was just chillin' and some giant (Asurindarahu) came up to him frontin', so Buddha made himself appear even larger than the giant and showed him the grandeur of heaven, as it were. That did the trick.

On the other hand, Sleeping Buddha represents the moment he went to greatness entered Nirvana.

On the other other hand... others use "reclining" and "sleeping" interchangeably, which is confusing and threatens to eject me from my Zen zone. Either way though, Tuesday's child has a major dose of the laidback.

Click here to determine on which day of the week you were born,
then refer here to see which Buddha pose is "yours" and what it means. Have fun!