Sunday, December 17, 2006

Four days in sunny Bali.

Four days in sunny Bali.

It's gonna be a long entry, peppered with a gazillion snapshots. I've decided to incorporate a couple of excerpts from my handy leather travel journal as well. So, sit tight.

12 December, 17:15 hrs
On the flight to Bali

"If clothes maketh the man, then do the passengers on the plane define the destination?

I'm not exactly Miss Jetsetter, and my travels have mostly been confined to within Asia. That said, the fellow passengers on my past flights haven't been as distinctive as those who are travelling with me to Bali.

There's a certain holistic aura about them. Drawstring pants; flowers in their hair... we all look set for our resort paradise. Holistic hippies. I'm loving this flight."




Febri's Hotel at Kuta was only a five minute ride from the airport. Our hotel, though smallish, was brilliant with its hospitality. I liked coming back to flowers on my bed, and the smiling staff. I could imagine snuggling up on the window-side couch with my novel, but it never did happen. Neither did our plans to have a room service breakfast on the balcony.



We set off for a quick jaunt around the Kuta area. Verdict? Extremely touristy. We purchased a tour package to Ubud and Tanah Lot for the next day from the very jovial Andy and Monkey. Ken was bizarrely happy to see Sogo, and our first Balinese dinner of ayam panggang (grilled chicken) and club sandwich (Ken's a careful eater) at a streetside cafe was pretty disappointing.

13 December



So I don't exactly wake up to a spectacular view of the sea, but this is Kuta for you. We were up bright (and I do mean that for the sun rises at 6 a.m. in Bali) and early for our tour around Ubud.
Our guide, Newman, turned towards us in the car and said, "You look happy. Slept well?"
We laughed and replied, "Not enough sleep!'
"Honeymoon?" he probed, and with a crook of his eyebrow, I understood what he was driving at.
"NOOO!" we protested.

We are not a couple, and we so didn't have sex. It was amusingly mortifying.



Our first stop was to watch the Barong and Keris dance. It is, in short, a story about the never-ending battle between good and evil. I liked it that the good didn't expectedly triumph. Like Andy said, the Balinese believe that good and evil co-exist side by side. They believe in good, but they also respect the evil. It's very yin and yang.



Here we are at the batik-making establishment.



Checked out the wood-carving and silver and gold villages as well, and I got myself an original Balinese oil painting at one of the painter's gallery. Funny, buying my first piece of art wasn't quite the life-changing moment I'd imagined. Then again, it could be because I was semi-coerced into buying it. I actually had my eye on this very "hooga shaga" piece.


I'd like to think they are doing a sun dance, but they are probably doing a dance for rain, for the crops. It costs USD200 though, and I had to be prepared to go very very hungry if I were to get my hands on it. At the owner's persuasian/insistence, I got myself one of a mosaic sunset instead. It is pretty, really. I'm just gonna have to cultivate some sort of spiritual bond with it.



The Balinese are extremely particular about temple regulations, and only a couple of the countless temples on the island are open to the public. Check out the shot with the funky old lady.



This is the Monkey Forest in Ubud. The monkeys here are supposedly less aggressive than the ones in the other monkey forest on another part of the island. See the yellow umbrella in front of the tree (second picture)? Balinese believe that an umbrella, or a sarong, means that the tree is inhabited by people from the other world. In fact, according to our guide Newman, the Balinese actually marry spirits.



Lunch with a view. A quick fuel-stop for lunch.



And this, is Ubud Market, the first stop on my spiral towards bankruptcy. It reminds me alot of Bangkok's Chatuchak Market, 'cept that it is a lot smaller and less crowded.



Ken caught my bargaining prowess in action. Yes, I can be a cold, calculating shopper, but I'm also nice. See, the shopkeeper and I made up in the end.




The gorgeous view of rice terraces at Tegalalang.




Finally, we arrived at Tanah Lot to catch a glimpse of the famous sunset view. The place was thronged with tourists waiting to watch, to borrow the words from Cafe del Mar, God's own cinema. We were lucky for it was temple festival day, so we also got to see the long procession of locals bearing offerings.



I felt incredibly small, as I always do looking out to sea (and I don't mean Sentosa).






And finally, after almost eight hours of sight-seeing (and some shopping), we called it a day. That's us with our driver in white (gosh, I can't remember his name) and Newman.

23:00 hrs
Hotel room

"I can't quite remember what it was about Bali that had me pining for another visit the past four years. This second trip has made me realise just how sheltered in Nusa Dua I was back in 2002!

Today's tour definitely showed me a different side of Bali. Today, I saw not the facet of sun, sand and surf, but that of its art and cultural heart. While only slightly less touristy as compared to Kuta, Ubud exuded an enchanting bohemian vibe. Art galleries and quirky cafes dotted narrow streets, and self-proclaimed villas were everywhere.

I am inspired to take a sabbatical a couple of years later. Put myself up in one of the home-stays or quaint cottages and take painting lessons; or perhaps take a yoga course in Denpasar. That would be therapeutic. Or I could simply shack up at Kuta once more, but place less emphasis on shopping.

My waning energy levels spiked the minute I stepped foot into Ubud Market, and I blew over S$80 in an hour. Guess I'm not quite the alternative traveller I'd have liked to think of myself as. It is kinda disappointing to be so stereotypically female, but I'm not sorry. It'd be tough though to be a proper travel journalist if I can't even take a holiday without shopping.

When I return the next time round, I will take it slow."

14 December




Took a quick walk through Dynasty Hotel to Tuban Beach. It was low tide, and the shore was filled with a million crab holes and scuttering crabs of various sizes. I felt really guilty about wrecking the holes they have painstakingly dug, but there was no other way through to Kuta Beach.






The waters were clear, but littered with driftwood and fallen leaves. What was really heartwarming though was the sight of the locals working together to clear the beach. Their beach.

I succumbed myself to four hours of bliss being kneaded and pampered for, get this, S$56. It was extremely tempting to continue lazing in the sun after, but I was also impatient to do abit of exploring. And the rest of the evening and night was burnt zipping in and out of boutiques, as well as checking out Hard Rock Cafe.





Can I just say, the changing rooms in the boutiques are extremely spacious and well-designed. And, my biggest splurge this holiday is this RipCurl bikini. It's actually turquoise and not as green as it looks under the warm hotel room lights. S$59. Sure beats getting it in Singapore, no?

15 December



I took a time-out and spent my morning by the pool with my novel. It is the supposed rainy season in Bali but we've been blessed with warm sunny days this whole trip, so that's something to be thankful about.

Visited the nearby Discovery Shopping Mall for a bit of last minute shopping, and it still astounds me to be able to step out of the mall and straight onto the sand. It's wonderful. Kinda how Hawaii will be like I imagine. Bowed out of shopping after my wallet began to feel suspiciously light and I left Ken to his hunt for boardshorts while I retreated to a cafe.

14:14 hrs
Daily Bread Bakery Cafe

"I'd been itching for a visit ever since we passed it on our first night. Daily Bread Bakery Cafe. Who could resist a name like that? It sounds so wholesome and organic, kinda like Bali's answer to Cedele.

And so here I am, alone in the cafe, seeking refuge from the hsutle and bustle of shopping. It's interesting how I feel so comfortable and self-assured with my solitude, despite the people milling around and curious cats peeking in.

Going abroad is synonymous with anonymity, and I like it. It's a little twisted I know, me feeling all unknown and mighty here in Bali, when I am equally unknown back in Singapore. But I remember reading somewhere that being abroad encourages one to break out of set routines and moulds to do what one will usually not do on home turf. It's weird, but true.

Travelling is a liberation of routine."





Paradise isn't exactly how I'd remembered it to be, which is kinda tough for the Bali in my memories was one of perpetual sunsets, and that is scientifically impossible.

The Bali I have experienced is a tourist mecca. Touters line the streets and the flea markets aren't much different from those in Thailand, albeit quieter and less grand. In fact, with its messy streets and persistent stall owners, Bali kinda resembles Thailand.

Perhaps my virgin Bali trip in 2002 built some misconceptions about paradise. Or perhaps the 16-year-old me was not well-travelled enough to be jaded. That said, Bali still holds its allure.

The smell of the sea the moment I step out of the airport. The Balinese hospitality (that definitely beats the Land of Smiles). The intangible culture. The piousness of the locals, and their emphasis on religion. I still cannot understand how the bombers could bear to lay their hands, twice, on such holy land.

Tainted paradise, I will be back.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

My island escape.

My island escape.
feeling: excited
music: andrea bocelli - cuando me enamoro

Novel. Check.
Travel journal. Check.
Clothes. Check check check.
Bikinis. Check.
Toiletries. Check.
Sun block. Check.
Sunnies. Check.
Passport. Check.
Money. Check.
Airline voucher. Check.
Medicine. Check.
Flip flops. Check.
Chargers. Check.
Camera. Check.
Phone. Check.
Ipod. Charging.

I'm a good two hours away from leaving my house, and about four hours from boarding my flight to Bali. I'd initially looked forward to getting away for a chance to clear the head. Emotional detox. But there is no longer a need for that now. I feel liberated.

My past week of impassiveness has built up to the current jittery me. I can barely wait! Do you know that our hotel has got a nightly live band? And Hard Rock Cafe looks near enough! And I hope we get to see a gorgeous sunset at Tanah Lot. Commercialized, how I don't care.

What should I wear on the plane... As versatile as they are, jeans seem impractical for an island holiday. And frankly, I don't really fancy wearing jeans. Sarong pants it shall be.

I've got a mil and one things to do when I get back. Corrinne May concert. Belly dancing workshop. Christmas visit back to Sentosa office. Cycling. Ikea. Cafe Del Mar. Dinner with Eil. Gang Chrismtas party. (hello, still on???) Painting my room. Belly piercing. And Yeehong has said that we should revive our Christmas movie tradition this year. (Do you see this Justin!)

Looks like I'll have plenty to keep me busy in my week of transit before I jet off for Bangkok on the 23rd. And plenty more to keep me busy when I return after. Excellent.

Thanks for the well wishes you guys. I suspect I may have gone on abit too much about my Bali trip. Heh. Am not one for saying goodbyes, so I'll see you all when I get back.



Off I go to the island of the gods. :)

Fosters with friends.

Fosters with friends.
feeling: sleepy
music: claudio ragazzi - o beijo






I'm exhausted, having spent almost three hours packing and repacking my suitcase. Yes, I'm leaving for Bali tomorrow, but I am too sleepy to go all yippee.

But I am looking forward to it. Whilst wandering along Holland Village earlier in the evening, the thought that I'll wandering Bali's streets tomorrow got me into a tizzy. Seems like I have a bit of energy left after all. I AM GOING TO BALI!

Spent the good part of the day in the company of Jazzy, Karin and Nelson. Kinda felt like the good old IG days... but we've kinda all grown up I guess. It was extremely relaxing and therapeutic, spending a lazy afternoon at Fosters doing absolutely nothing and talking about everything.



I feel happy. :)

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Families.

Families.
feeling: fulfilled
music: 1 giant leap; michael stipe - the way you dream







There was temporary chaos in my family when the early birds discovered that the restaurant we were supposed to have my auntie's birthday lunch at had closed down. Thankfully, right next door was My Mum's Cuisine, and the food was really really quite good. Finally, I got to see what Joo Chiat is all about, and I can't wait to return one day with time on my hands to really explore the area.

Spontaneously caught The Holiday with the gang. I. loved. it. It was much better than Love Actually me thinks. The row of us stayed in our seats in the darkened cinema, gushing about it all for a good five minutes. Guys too. Haha. I'm gonna watch it again when I return from Bali.

Time for bed.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Scrub in???

Scrub it???
music: justin timberlake - my love

Caught a bit of one of Alicia Key's live performances on MTV. Boy is she good. And I just saw the mtv for The Feeling's Love It When You Call. I don't know why I'm getting all excited. Do you see this Jem?????

Yep, you guessed it, I'm taking a break. I've only got time for another episode before I gotta get dressed for the birthday. I almost said scrub in. I almost said scrub in. What's Grey's doing to me?

Gardenias in a field of poppies.

Gardenias in a field of poppies.
feeling: carefree
music: jem - flying high

Taking a break from my Grey's Anatomy marathon. The show leaves me with a weird mix of emotions, and each time I pause, I try to write about it to make sense of it all. That explains these short periodic posts. But, I've decided I like the abstractness of the mix, and I like keeping it to myself.

Grey's was really disturbing yesterday. That particular two episodes had my imagination all fired up, and I was gripped by this sudden fear. I got scared, and I freaked out. Not exactly the smartest thing to do in the middle of the night with only the howling dogs downstairs for company.

This Saturday feels different. I feel different. Light. Carefree. Alive. I think I'm right where I want to be. :)

Oh no, not again.

Oh no, not again.
feeling: sleepy; touched

It's seven minutes to 4:00 a.m. and I'm just done watching seven episodes of Grey's, non-stop.

My heart almost stopped during the two Code Black episodes. Derek loves Meredith. He loves her. And I couldn't stop crying when he reminded her of their first kiss. Oh kiss her again already.

Friday, December 08, 2006

Weighed me down too many.

Weighed me down too many.
feeling: blahs.
music: the wreckers - one more girl

Dogs from my window; an undiscovered lane in Arab St; dinner at Bussorah.

Two consecutive nights of sleeping past 4 a.m. has left me exhausted. I was pretty tempted to crawl into bed after swimming with my bitch, but I feared I'd sleep past the subject registration. And so, I played my piano, having barely touched it since I passed my Grade 8 practical. Five months. It kinda feels like I'd lost my touch.

The registration nightmare is over. It was quite a hoot really. The adrenaline rush and panicky responses. Phone starts beeping with smses. MSN windows start popping up. Haha. But it's all done.

Hit by the post-lunch and post-registration slump, I shuffled from the dining room to my bed and promptly knocked out.

Awoke to a darkened room and a muted sunset. For that first few moments of consciousness, I couldn't deny myself. And that was how my dad found me. In bed, staring blankly out of the window. I must have look pretty vulnerable for he's been oddly sensitive to me suddenly. Haha. Or maybe he just amde a killing at the stock market. I wouldn't know. The heaviness kinda sucked, but it sure beats going in circles, no?

Three days before I fly off to the Island of the Gods. Three what I'd thought would be 'me days' have been filled up with countless activities!


Saturday
Cousin's first month birthday celebration

Sunday
Auntie's birthday lunch
Tea with poly mates
The Holiday screening at the beach

Monday
Supposed cycling lesson but I don't know if visiting Sentosa again would be an overkill
Meet-up with Jazzy and IG peeps?
Meet-up with eBay lady for transaction

That leaves me with Monday night to pack, and early Tuesday to drive myself crazy with anticipation.

Ken's coming over in abit to talk about Bali, and... he's bringing the remaining episodes of Grey's Anatomy. Thank God!

Thursday, December 07, 2006

Let me be honest.

Let me be honest.
feeling: thoughtful

My blog has never been one for shameless soul baring or the airing of dirty laundry. Ambiguity has always been my best policy. It allows for enough honesty to get the load off my chest, yet enough discretion to save me from vulnerability.

Any public blogger who insists that he/she does not write for an audience, but only for himself/herself, is either lying or in denial. I am aware that people read this blog, and I subconsciously practise self-censorship. And I do worry if my ambiguity leads to me being misunderstood. Yes, my readers, I write for you.

Bloggers. Aren't we a narcissistic bunch? I am almost ashamed at the twisted gratification I get from knowing that people are interested enough to read what I write.

Yet, there is always that fleeting flare of surprise when someone tells me that they love the way I write, or that they love reading my blog.

And I thought that I should, for once, be as honest as I can be in in a post.

I was a hospitality student who one day decided that I loved to write. The pleasure I derived from the ability to express the intangible in the written form was unsurpassable. My flair with words in the world of hospitality bought me praise. I worked my ass off and earned myself a job offer at the end of my attachment at Sentosa's communications department. I got myself a magazine internship and earned myself praise from the devil. I really did think I was good enough to be where I am right now.

But what used to be my forte merely makes me one of the many peas in the huge pod of words where I am now. Having had the distinction taken from me, I got nervous. How was I to compare with people who had, at the tips of their fingers, the latest world news? How can I compare against people who read clever books I would never think twice about picking up?

Self-doubt kicked in and I momentarily lost my way.

It was in this haze of doubt that I spent my first semester in the course. Muddling. Fumbling. Blindly searching. I couldn't seem to summon a fraction of that consuming passion I had. A part of me didn't even realise that I was lost.

Soo Ling's tag has somehow reignited the diminishing flame.

So I hate reading the newspapers. So I am a girl whose idea of a good book probably involves a pink cover and fluffy romantic ideals. So I am someone who would probably make a crappy news reporter for I have absolutely no interest in current affairs.

I know what I can never be, and I know what I am not. I know I can never write a good piece on local politics.
But I do know what I'm good at. I'm good at writing for you. I'm good at writing insanely frivolous beauty magazine articles, however fluffy that may sound. And I do know what I want. I want my words to make you feel as brainlessly good as I do when I read a fashion magazine. I want my words to take you to places you have never been. I want to relate to you.

I'm done with being lost, and spending my remaining university days just getting by. How incredibly stupid I was to be bummed out because things didn't come easy anymore. They're not meant to be easy. They're meant to challenge, to trial, and to provoke. We are not where we are for the credence that we are the best. I am where I am to challenge myself to be the best. Not the best among the rest, but the best that I can be.

And I'm gonna step up to it. And I intend to work to better myself. I will read the papers, and I will challenge myself to write and think out of the box. And I will jolly well enjoy it not being easy. Discomfort can be strangely satisfying.

Memories don't hurt.

Memories don't hurt.
feeling: sleepy
music: dishwalla - candleburn

It's one of those nights where solitude is welcome, necessary even. If only for tonight, the hazy cloak of fatigue beautifies melancholy. Diversion's not longer necessary.

I got a facial with Charmain yesterday. Exam stress and too much sun has left my face in a sudden mess. But it's fixed. (I feel like I'm talking about plastic surgery, haha.) I feel clean and bump-free. And I snipped my fringe.

Time-tabling is annoying. See, freedom and liberty comes with a price.

I've got plenty to say, but everything means nothing.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Frostbite.

Frostbite.
feeling: touched
music: robert downey jr. and vonda shepard - white christmas

Strolling along Orchard Road beneath the strings of fairylights, the smell of pine wood in Ikea, Christmas hampers in supermarkets, carols playing everywhere. These used to get me all hyped up about the season, but I'm surprisingly unfeeling about Christmas this year.

No shopping for unnecessary gifts, no planning of dinner parties, no crazy baking of cookies, no fervent wrapping of presents... I'm not in the mood to set up the tree either.

Perhaps it is the lack of rainy days this December. Maybe I am not feeling particularly merry. Or maybe it is just because the decorations on Orchard Road are horribly mismatched. LOL.

Am up to episode 12 of Season Two - Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer. (You guys may wanna skip the next two paragraphs if you're intending to watch Grey's.)

Christina wakes up and sees an unadorned tree in the living room.
"What's that?" she asked Burke.
"I thought you would like to help me decorate the tree this year. You know, to mark our first Christmas together," he replied.
She stared at him impassively and said, "I'm Jewish." And sailed right out of the front door.

And then, Derek admitted to his ex-wife that Meredith was "not a rebound; not revenge". He had fallen in love with her! Just as I was almost over feeling mortified for Meredith when she marched up to him earlier in the season and said, "Pick me. Choose me. Love me."

Two episodes of Season Two left. I doubt this love triangle will be resolved! I can't bring myself to watch anymore. Not until I get my hands on whatever episodes of Season Three there are.

Watching Grey's Anatomy is akin to dating a pumpkin. It's stupid, but unrelenting gripping. It's a medical show no doubt, but its romantic scenes are way more real and less cliched than cinema offerings of romantic flicks.

Despite that, I want to watch this. It only opens on the 14th, so it'll have to wait till I'm back from Bali.

Picture courtesy of about.com

Actually, I'm starting to feel the Christmas mood already! Alright, gotta get dressed. I'm going out to do my time-tabling, believe it or not. I'm rather amused.

Work's cancelled. Both days. Urghs.

Good night, Grey's style.

Good night, Grey's style.

Alex walked right up to where Izzy was seated with the gang, tapped her on the shoulder, tipped her back on the bar stool, and kissed her silly. And he said good night.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Something to talk about.

Something to talk about.
feeling: spaced out

I've forgotten that waking my bitch up is, well, a bitch. Haha.

Plenty to blog, but that'd have to wait. I'm due to meet the dog majesty for a swim. And I've got errands to run. And afternoon coffee with Charmain.

Visit the money changer at Lucky Plaza.
Get sis to unpack her luggage so I can use it.
Plan timetable.
Borrow Bali guide.

And I think I've got to make a trip down to school on Thursday AND Friday for subject registration. And to pick up my flip flops. Urghs. And Friday's registration is at 3:30 p.m. I wonder how I'm gonna work.

And then there's work on Saturday too.. some advertising thing. Good. Anything to put my dad off from sponsoring my trips. We all have to learn a thing or to about self sufficiency.

Wanna trot the globe, gotta work.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Into you like a train.

Into you like a train.
feeling: exhausted
music: iron and wine - naked as we came

Catching up over dinner at Cedele

Chicken, avocado and brie sandwich; Aussie Jane and Ceci; photo-taking frenzy of weird cakes.

Unexpected supper, but enjoyable nonetheless. It was nice, playing tourist on familiar streets. Sleeping shophouses seem awfully surreal at 1a.m.

Today's car wash was interesting. My virgin car wash. Never soaped a car in my life but it was quite a hoot. I'm exhausted, but it was good while it lasted. We hit the day's target, and Shannon's doubling tomorrow's I think. Haha good luck to us. We're gonna become sponge robots. Spongots.

Had a long talk with a friend after. A much needed one, and it felt good, like the old times. It was positively therapeutic to reveal the hidden and get the weight off my chest. I feel lighter. Hahaha.

This entry doesn't make sense at all. Into you like a train. Grey's showed two strangers pierced together on a metal rod during a train wreck. It was squirmy at its best.

I should sleep.

Friday, December 01, 2006

Filling the void.

Filling the void.
music: psapp - cosy in the rocket

One of the patients in Grey's Anatomy swallowed ten doll heads. And when Meredith asked him how he felt after the op, "empty" was what he said. "I've been feeling that way lately," was her reply. Me too. Of course, I'm not twisted enough to swallow dolls to fill the void. Grey's Anatomy is doing a good enough job in reining in my thoughts.

Denial almost always never works. Somehow, truth'll catch up. The way it did when Christina couldn't stop crying the minute she started. There was something so tender in the way Burke laid beside her on the hospital bed and held her. Season 2 episode 4.

I'm so tempted to continue with episode 5, but it's time to get dressed and head out for my date with the babes. Cedele beckons. After so long eh, Ceci?

Thursday, November 30, 2006

Hook, line and sinker.

Hook, line and sinker.
feeling: addicted
music: eames era - could be anything


It's eightish and I'm not at Timbre. One, I'm feeling lazy. Two, I can't bear to part with my moolah. I'm becoming such a scrooge of late. But it's good. Save the cash now, spend the rupiah and baht like a queen later.

So it was in the living room that I spent the better part of my day. First taking pictures of my clothes for auction on ebay, then watching Grey's Anatomy on vcd. Back to back. I didn't think I'd enjoy it the way Kenrick does, considering how he is a doctor-in-training like those surgical interns in the show, but I'm hooked. It's more than just about the medical side of the show (in fact I get abit cringy when the bloodier parts come on). The characters are just so... likeable. And the kaypoh in me's dying to find out how the romances work out.

The relationship between Meredith and Derek's sweet and all, but I'm developing a soft spot for Christina and Dr. Burke's blossoming romance. I'm addicted.

In fact, it's back to the show for me. 'Cept I've moved it back into my bedroom and my trusty macbook. Dad's turn to monopolize the living room tv. Laters.

P.s. I wonder what is it with my CS coursemates and dramas. Last I heard, Shannon's catching up on Desperate Housewives; Dea and Erwin are watching Prison Break; and the girls, I think Cheryl and Lays, are watching Gong/Gung/Goong. Hah.