Barcelona

I love Barcelona. The fresh seafood, the cheap public transport (except the after-midnight crazyass expensive airport taxi to our B&B), the sunny weather... And of course the little incident that will forever mark this place as being special. (no I didn't poo my pants)

There was the obligatory marvelling at Gaudi's brilliantly organic buildings.

There's strolling down the busy La Rambla towards the port. And just sit at the marina and daydream the afternoon away. Or launch into an intelligent debate on why the bigger fish don't team up and attack a seagull.

The magical fountain of Montjuic (I had to wikipedia to find out that the name means Jewish Mountain. Duh.) where all your dreams come true! Or at least, you go aaaaaaaah.

Squids are a must-try when in Barcelona. Grilled, deepfried, whatever way they come in, try. I miss them so much, oh my chipirones.

I suppose a visit to Spain wouldn't be complete without looting their Zara and Mango (and Desigual) outlets. And so I had my first shopping spree in Europe.

My only regret this trip? Not buying a Barcelona FC jersey. Boohoo!

Paris

Almost two months overdue but here it is. A post about Paris, the city of love and romance... if you think rain is sexy. My first Eurostar journey was quite sexy and smooth though, didn't even realise I was going into a tunnel under the sea. Not to mention the speed. I got from London to Paris within the same time frame it takes me to go home from work, every day. Bitching.

I've been underground since disembarking from the train at Gare du Nord, and this is the first sight of the city that greeted me coming out from the Metro. Arc du Triomphe. I wasn't as thrilled with the monument as I was with the fact that I'd be staying in such a posh part of town, woohoo!

Evidence of how much my man and I love our books. Not a moment to waste!

Obligatory act-cute pose before I get too old for it. Shuddup if you're gonna say I have already breached said threshold. It's not easy filtering out pictures to post here that aren't already on Facebook. I don't want to repeat my pictures. Yes it's my blog and I can change the subject whenever I feel like it.

I was a bit let down by Champs-Elysees to be honest. I expected Regent Street x3 with the glitter and glamorous high-so people prancing about but got a run down Bintang Walk instead.

The Louvre is HUGE. Since we underestimated the walking distance to the museum from our hotel through Champs-Elysees, I was already quite tired and grumpy by the time we got there. And the stifling heat didn't help, especially at the entrance (glass pyramid that look very high-tech and nice in the picture)... my eyeballs nearly combusted.

It's a shame we couldn't cover the entire museum even though we paid for the damn tickets. We were just too... sleepy. Totally shouldn't stay up till 2 in the morning drinking coffee and chatting with Peter's colleagues. We chose to just do the hall housing Mona Lisa, took some pictures and then left (very wisely by Metro this time) and slept till dinnertime. Sorry-lah dear Louvre, didn't do you justice this time. But your exhibit, the Mona Lisa is a bit cheating also. So small in real life! And wassup with the barriers and guards preventing us from taking a decent picture, eh?

Energised from the well-deserved nap and yumyum-in-the-tumtum from a really nice and proper French dinner, we got adventurous and walked again in search of Eiffel Tower. We reckoned chances of us not finding it would be very low, after all, it's a tower. Just look up, right?

See what good food can do to the Ogress. Even if the boyfriend cannot take a proper night-time picture to save his life. But I still love him to bits-lah. He's paying for the tripod AND shoulder the responsibility of lugging it around though.

Apple flavour Minute Maid! I have never encountered one before this. And I must say, Minute Maids taste better out of tetrapaks. Drinking them from the can reminded me painfully of tap water in London. Metallica!

Basilica of the Sacred Heart at the peak of Montmarte. It's totally the Batu Caves of Paris - the amount of steps one has to climb can kill the faint-hearted. Although there wasn't any peril of monkeys trying to grab your food/jewellery, there were many African dudes lolling around the foot of the hill trying to tie bits of string on your hand and then extort you for money. Equally annoying.

The sound effects that totally completed the whole ethereal, serene feel to the place. Very apt for a cathedral on top of a hill overlooking the whole Paris, doncha think? If you could ignore the meddling, peddling string-sellers (you can see one in action in this picture on the left), that is. And the anxiety of pigeons shitting on your head.

Our cosy hotel, with endless supply of Minute Maids right across the road. And free wifi. The boyfriend would probably throw a tantrum when he sees a half nekkid picture of him here for the world to see but it's not like he reads my blog... so... ssshhhh. And yeah we have two beds. Cannot meh?

The Notre Dame. We weren't feeling very churchey so opted out from paying to have a look inside. In retrospect I should have climbed up the tower and check out the bell and gargoyles. Oh well.

The Thinker at Musee Rodin. Big big garden adorned with clusters of statues. I like.

phooey

Wow, has it been that long, my ardent blog readers? Hello? Hi? Right. My online diary for myself then. I don't know why I don't write, it's not like I'm hopelessly addicted to Facebook or anything.

I know why. My creative writing juiced have dried up. The right side of my brain is about as shriveled as a toe that's been in the sea for 12 hours. So what's been the highlight of the past month of my absence? Chinese New Year back in Malaysia, of course.

Brought the boyfriend back to help with the festive cooking preparations (proved to be a good worker too with minimal complaints and needs) and meet the clan(s). Pioneering the list of boyfriends I actually brought home, I think the reception was alright. Phew.

Met up with more high school friends that I had in previous years because two special people had birthdays that fell during CNY this year and everyone gathered to celebrate. Happy birthday Val and Eryn! And, what's up with the strange fascination the boyfriend has with my armpit? That or he's kind enough to avoid a frontal of my face with that enormous zit (welcome home present from the tropics!)...

And then we went to Phuket and the works, Phi Phi Ley, Phi Phi Don (Maya Bay), James Bond Island, Khai Island etc. This is the place we stopped for lunch at Phi Phi Don. The water made me itchy and goosebumpy like no other. Magical.

This is the skimpiest you'd ever see me in. Count it your lucky day (to not be visually polluted with other more ogressy body parts). I saw lady tourists from China (quite a huge number of them around Phuket actually) wear colourful singlets inside their one-piece swimwear. Tsk tsk. It's much cooler when you wear it outside *flashback to high school, underdeveloped years*...

*squeal* My boyfriend is sooooo S-E-X-Y!!! Aiyo and so cute... *giggle*

The next morning, we discovered that we have yet to achieve the tan we wanted to return to Europe with, so it was hardcore 2 solid hours under the sun with MP3s and my book (ah the message he wrote within makes me smile every time).

I felt totally conned (hmm didn't I use this phrase already in my last post) by the elephant ride. I was expecting an hour of National Park rainforest exploration on top of an elephant, stopping every once in a while for her (it has to be a her and don't ask me why) to nibble on leaves and/or swat at bushes. Instead we got an hour under the blistering sun (no canopy here) in a man made uphill-downhill (poor elephants) elephant track. Upsetifying!

Valentine's dinner at a French restaurant in Bangkok made up for earlier disappointments! I wished I've ordered foie gras though. I want foie gras! But the 9-course dinner was nice. Peter had veal and I had a tuna steak as mains.

Last Malaysian meal before boarding the plane. Is this why I was so gassy?

happy new year

My first out-of-town sight-seeing trip for the Christmas break - Den Bosch. Well the full name of the town is 's-Hertogenbosch but I'm sure all foreign visitors join me in rejoicing that it's better known for the humanly-pronunciable shorter name.

I haven't hung out much with twins as friends in real life. They're like unicorns. Fascinating and alien with plenty of theories and whispers of telepathy and the likes. I still stare at Jos with the intense interest of a scientist to a rare species of butterfly pinned onto a slide. Hence I try not to look at him too much. The resemblance in gait, laughter and outlook are scaaaary. Doppelganger!

My twin is well, less complex. I think. He's always happy. Click for more Den Bosch pictures while I go pack my bags to go to Jos and Marjanne's for New Year countdown and a game of Scrabble.

brussels

Scold me. Cane me. Unfriend me on Facebook. I'm sorry for the absence. Thanks Gab for bombarding me to come back here from my affair with Facebook. Dammit the fluff-pet thing there is addictive. I'll friend anyone who pets my pet! Come pet come pet.

Back to blogging. I'm back from a weekend in Brussels! I'm recovering from my first cold contracted in cold-and-getting-colder London! I'm gonna continue watching Supernatural Season 2 to make space for the 5 seasons of Futurama that Peter downloaded! Be a good boy/girl and see my Brussels pictures and leave me to faster watch and faster delete my drama series ok?

back from bologna

Bologna was great right up to the point when we were at the Italian airport waiting for our flight back. Like your usual friendly low-cost carrier, Ryan Air was late. The airport was small with nothing to eat except weird sandwiches. Nevermind. Then Stansted's passport control had to have this ridiculously long queue at freakin' 12.30am. Having missed the last train back into civilisation, we had to bus it, then cab it separately, and the last member of the posse reached home at 4am.

To add on to my frustration, I stepped on a snail walking to my front door. Sickening crunch, snail squashed, I wiped my boots on the neighbour's patch of grass, crashed into bed fully clothed and woke up with mascara on my pillow and contact lense dried up northwards of eyeball, threatening to lodge itself into brains.

But enough of moaning. Let's rewind a little bit now.

We had a 2-hour little getaway break before heading towards the airport after our Cersaie stint, so Bossman generously shoved us into the main plaza of Bologna - the Piazza Maggiore, fronting the famous San Petronio church. He also tried to get us to eat at the nicest restaurant in town but they close from 3-7pm. Boo. Must give him credit for trying though.

I love Bossman. Even if we had to work in the train. Because he remembers I cannot sit facing the opposite direction. And I love juice. And food makes me happy. And we share a bizarre, warped sense of humour.

work and stratford

So I'm now a proper working class person. A week and a half into being a Bossman's Right-Hand, I'm still learning and enjoying the new experiences. Still terrified about picking up the phone (especially Bossman's mobile) but I could only run away to make tea that many times in a day. Next week we're gonna sit down to discuss the corporate website and brochure. Should be interesting. But then, having the sole power to order whatever stationery I like for everyone is also very interesting.

Now that the sun's only up till 8pm and not 10pm... what's better than reminiscing about the good summery trips we took a few weeks ago? Si, YC and I went to Stratford-upon-Avon to be immersed in Shakespeare one very sunny Saturday. And then his uni in Warwick and the 2 flats he lived in while studying and then dinner at his favourite Indian restaurant.

All those we did, but not Warwick Castle. Because no more sun.

bryan boy

I now have Bryan Boy as a friend on Facebook. Wow, talk about having the closest thing to a celebrity as a friend. I haven't been reading that third-world skinny bitch's blog as religiously nowadays, but you should. He's the loudest, funniest, smartest and proudest.

Which jives perfectly well with my post today on Brighton and it's annual Pride event. I know I'm a wee bit behind on this (but no, I'm not a behind-person so AIM CAREFULLY DAMMIT) but just bear with me yeah. I'll make this short and sweet so y'all can just click on the link and go see pictures. Someone killed my braincells a little today by asking me to download and watch A Night At The Roxbury so I'm not feeling too witty right now.

After lots of colourful parades (as well as openly gay displays of affection) in the Netherlands, I have to say the Brighton one wasn't too entertaining. Nevermind the few Chinese bitches who elbowed me and shouldered their ways to the front and left me snapping pictures of people's arms or hair or cameras. I was standing quite in front because I've been queuing there, dammit. I'm ashamed of my fellow skin sometimes.

Having said that, I went for a job interview with a manager who's from Brighton (and sounded suspiciously too enthusiastic about the whole Pride thing to be straight) and he said the REAL fun isn't at Madeira Drive (where the parade starts) but at the park where it ends and everyone gets really drunk and clappy-happy.

Note: No, I'm not a 'phobe. My interviewer said "Pride is AWESOME! I never miss a year!" and how can you not suspect a statement like that?

Si got really really sunburnt from sitting on the pebbled Brighton beach and feeding my tuna bagel to the pebbles. After ignoring his pinkness (which turned a more and more violent shade by the minute) by ogling at this hot young thing in a skin-coloured bikini (and betting with Si if it'd be transparent when she comes out of the water) for a good long time, we finally left Brighton. And since it's still quite early, we made an impromptu detour to visit Portsmouth. We drank beer at the pub which is converted from Si's dad's old office, and then watched Transformers at Vue. Then we went home and Si shed skin for the next week.

Now, I shall plot cunningly how to get Azwin Andy into my Facebook as well. *swoon*

No. Her bikini didn't become transparent.

ashamed

I'm ashamed of myself. Haven't been updating for the past 2 weeks! I swear, I'm going to sit my fat-ass down this weekend and catch up with updates on my escapades to several quaint English towns.

The whirlwind called Peter has come and left and I haven't even finished uploading pictures for my Netherlands trip a month ago. Shame, shame. Without further ado, the final chapter of my Netherlands trip (until October, that is), the town which I hate and like at the same time (more dislike than like) - Rotterdam.

Like: Sausages sold from automatic vending machines. Sounds like nothing special at all, right? They're made of horse meat. Both Frikadel and Kroket are made from a mixture of mashed meat, including horse. Uh huh. I had a horse sausage and it was salty and plenty GOOD.

Like: Sweaty and hot young men beating their sticks. Oooh la la.

Dislike: Too politically incorrect to say it here. But you girls can gawk at my usual pristine pictures.

maastricht

Okay okay I know you guys are probably sick of my slow and painful Netherlands posts and pictures (WHAT? STILL GOT?!) but bear with me. This one is speshul, because of many speshul things I got to do besides taking cloud pictures and flower pictures and canal pictures.

I ate an entire raw herring. I've seen plenty of vans and stalls selling them, but somehow eating a WHOLE fish raw just didn't appeal to me like your typical sashimi does. But then, have to try everything once, right? So I went right ahead and bought myself an experience. It wasn't half as bad as I thought! I'll definitely eat it again happily. Outdoors. Because the fish pongs up the whole room and fridge.

I got a strange shout-out from my deceased godbro, Nido. Well, hello there dear! Welcome to the Netherlands! Where've you been for the 6 months since you're gone?

I cycled again after not doing so for about 10 years. The wind rushing past my face and hair was exhilarating, especially when I stood up mid-pedal and yelled a liberating "woooo hoooo". Then the building ache on my ass and pubic bone reminded me I'm not the skinny, sporty girl from 10 years ago anymore. I couldn't sit properly for days after cycling for about 30km that day. But hey, it was fun, and so was the caving adventure we cycled to.

We? Yup, you read it right. There was a man involved. Curious, right? Not just nice scenery, nice flowers and nice canals anymore. Faster go see my pictures-lah.

utrecht

Utrecht is a small town (funny how it's the central train station for the whole of the Netherlands though) surrounded with canals. And interesting pubs and shops surround the main canal. The two rows of shops/restaurants/pubs are just nice for me, comprehensive enough to get whatever one needs but not dizzyingly crisscrossed with other canals and streets to get one lost in direction and choices.

The centre of Utrecht has to be Domplein, where the famous Dom Church is. Apparently one can climb up to the top of the tower and take kickass awesome pictures... but I. Just. Couldn't. Find. The. Entrance. Maybe they're under renovation? I truly believe so. (say otherwise and I'll perform The Nutcracker)

The inside of the Dom Church. Niiiiiiiice. Filled me with childlike wonder and reminded me of the incident where I climbed into the church of my Catholic kindergarten (*ahem* broke in through the window, more accurately) and was punished by kneeling in silence for what seemed like a lifetime facing a similarly colourful (but slightly broken - or was it another one?) window like this one.

Anyway, more pictures here.

After all the sightseeing and obligatory photo-taking, I met up with Jenny and got drunk. Finally, someone smaller than me in size that I could bully into cooking dinner while I lay wasted across the couch staring shitfaced into the TV (thanks, buddy).

middelburg

This could very well be the best leg of my entire trip. Maybe not in terms of accessibility and things to do, but dayum the Bed & Breakfast is fantastic! Quaint neighbourhood with antique cars and resplendent courtyard gardens, I felt like I was walking backwards 20 years.

The bustling town centre with street parades, outdoor cafes, open air rave parties in the park. The starkly quieter housing areas. The long stretch (nevermind it was deserted and cold) of beach just 10 minutes away.

The combination leaves a sweet taste in my mouth. I'm gonna go away now to savour it while I still remember and you people can help yourselves to some sweetness too, right here.

alkmaar

Every Friday morning, locals and tourists alike swarm to Alkmaar for the weekly cheese market in front of the cheese church. Having missed the Keukenhof gardens by an entire season, I wasn't about to miss the cheese so I braved the morning cold and sleepiness.

The sight of so many wheels (is that the right penjodoh bilangan?) of cheese made my heart gallop like a little deer. But alas, I realised that after all the pomp and show (they even have scientist-lookalikes to cut open some cheese and discuss intellectually among themselves for 15 minutes), these cheese aren't for sale! The workers wheeled the wheels of cheese into big trucks, where they're delivered to Timbuktu and never seen again.

What we could buy, was of course these smaller ones, from the one stall selling cheese at the cheese market square. I didn't get any because I didn't wanna be lugging cheese around town on my first leg of journey. Now I regretted it. But only slightly. Because hey, cheese is cheese right. Regardless of whether it's starred in a show or not.

Alkmaar is also known as Little Venice. The end.

amsterdam

What is Amsterdam without the canals? Better quality pictures coming up, I promise... blame it on the weather.

What is Amsterdam without the museums? Thank goodness for Museumkaart which is a one-off payment all-access card to over 100 museums in the Netherlands. Very handy indeed on a rainy day with nowhere to go and nothing in the cinema to see. The museum featured here is the Stedelijk Amsterdam, but it's under renovation till 2009.

What is Amsterdam without the tulips? Alas, the only tulips I get to see this trip, are these. Bulbs. Because the effing 77-acre Keukenhof Gardens with 7 million flowers is only open in spring. And I didn't know! *bash self over head* Just think about all the luvverly pikchas I could've taken, frolicking amongst petals and butterflies and sneezing non-stop!

What is Amsterdam without the red light district? Thank goodness this highlight of my trip didn't disappoint. Proud rainbow flags. Suggestive shop names and even more lewd display items. Drool-inducing scantily-clad girls dancing in display windows to music only they can hear.

Why is it located so close to Chinatown, though?

What is Amsterdam without the Ogress? Probably a better place. Where river ducks don't get terrorised, dancing girls don't get upset with camera trying to capture them, museum guards don't need to say "no cameras!" one more time...

Too bad-lah. I came, I saw, and I didn't smoke weed or eat mushrooms.

More pictures (not really a lot, because it was museum-ing all the way, kan) here.