Archive | travel

Nights in a cinematic city

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Bittersweet

 

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Life in that window

 

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New earrings


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In a high-brow white goods store ride the technicians of a forgotten age.

 

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The waitress in this cafe told me the place to visit was surely Sheung Wan. Art galleries and more art. We did not go.

 

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The tool shop that opened right after the birds set to work. Also at one point, World Savage.

 

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We took this in a horrible narrow backstreet with all the trappings of romance and heartbreak.

 

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Weighing of the Heart

 

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Swa-tong

 

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Sex and food

 

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Chained to your shadow

 

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The Rusting of Saint Laurent

 

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The gold that is not afraid to take a shower.

 

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The rust in every story. This one is harder to see.


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Alone buildings and looming buildings in my head.

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Black gold in the shower



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The only thing we managed to buy in Causeway Bay was soft serve from the mobile van. Mid-day Monday people were queuing up to get into Sogo. It was like a mad craze everywhere.

Consume, consume. Consume! 

I feel Hong Kong brings much pleasure at night. With nightfall freedom seems to befall the everyday man; every building’s tenacity is for a reason.

When I was young I used to follow my mother to Hong Kong a lot. I would always wish to buy a Sanrio thing. Any thing. Now I still look for that Sanrio thing except that it does not exist.

Next up, images of China. Oh my.

Jewelry, Alone Together

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Eye of the Tramp

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excavation, love story

I stared at this picture in the museum for a long while and the single thought I had was the love story of each of these men. Surely they loved a lot. Oh my they dug so hard no one saw their love story was all I could think. And their love story, like mine.

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neverland

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This toilet at the university used to torture me a lot.

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I end this post with this photo of the ‘tramp’ and his dog.

Our good friend in Sydney likes to bust in and out of discount appliance shops and she insisted we pop in and out of this and that shop. The weather was so good it contained the smells of all them sad, wretched electronics and second life Omega watches and autographed Michael Jackson (maybe not MJ but a famous guy) toy and so many things all part of our consumerist gut and bleeding hearts. One shop was the above. I could not tear my eyes from the little dog. He kept scratching and scratching, and the whole time he was scratching he was pulling and writhing his little body away from the guy. His pull was greater than his big scratch; he pulled with all his youth. I put my hands down to let him sniff me and then I caught the eyes of the tramp. Who may not be a tramp I realized but was so loving and at ease he could be.

I was so confused I blasted out of the store into the fresh world.

 

Skull | Cross | Halo | Half Moon | Sunstone | Peridot | Aquamarine | Stack

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gold jewellery singapore
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designer jewelry singapore
designer rings singapore
designer jewellery singapore
gold jewellery designs singapore
antique gold jewellery singapore
gold jewellery singapore online
jewellery shops in singapore online shopping
singapore online gold jewellery store

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If I Could Fly

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The best kind of breaks are the ones with all the convenience and none of itinerary.

What a good, good break-dance!

On the plane back I watched Pettson and Findus.

You care for yourself best when you care for someone else.

Friendship is not like cake. The more you share the more you have.

HY watched Avengers.

Memories are so magical. Because it’s like having a dream, where only one of you has a heart.

 

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Sapa Vietnam is quite a place like no place

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While we omitted the ugly photos of development, at the sides here there everywhere, Sapa Vietnam is busy constructing. The older, colonial French buildings remain, many in need of rework but still charming. Alongside are varying degrees of completion, drilling, sandy work boots, wet grooves, then night’s shade draws in and everything becomes mysterious again. We first came to Sapa nine years ago. Much has changed, and yet not enough. There used to be two or three general stores selling a few variety of tidbits but the few tasted so good. We subsisted on chocolate cream roll (the packeted cheap-and-fake-tasting kind) and beer nine years ago and could ask for nothing more. Now there’s classier chocolate and all the chips you eat at home and still no ordinary unsweetened milk.

For days, we watched this boy (look hard) and his pup (absent from photo). As usual, a cat fills in.

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The ‘H’mong Bookstore’ has fallen into a state. No real stories to sell-tell but the loneliness of Lonely Planets. I don’t care if they are pirated copies. I wish some other life jumped out.

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Nine years ago we also came to The Gecko and pretended we were hardly people who date.
 

Five minutes before we gave her quite a fair bit of money. Moments later she waltzed right back, just a girl ’round the block. She smelled of pee, and had a beautiful slight smile.

We giggled our way home.

hmong_vultures

 

The H’mong people peddle their ‘wares’ by getting tourists to part with their money. If you buy one item from one of them, the whole group flocks over until you give up. If you say no too many times, sometimes you hear ‘you-shit’. If you say no once firmly, they will say ‘next time yeah’, meaning later after they do a u-turn or the very next day (they remember very well each and every one). But sometimes you cannot rule out dementia.

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firewood

 

More later!

 

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The Orient Express Train Vietnam, Sapa

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Nine years ago we went to Sapa, Hanoi. We had known each other for six months then (according to HY). For many years, it was the one place we kept talking about. Lucky that this is one place we can afford to go now. Vietnam is very cheap, and depending on how you plan your itinerary, very mesmerizing.

A decade older means we are looking for something else. Then we shared a carriage with two other persons, and I recall with a ‘runaway’ couple who came onto the top bunk stealthily in the middle of the night. This time, the Orient Express Train became available, so we booked the entire carriage. I don’t want to think about runaways or dirty men anymore. I am dirtier now, with lesser romance.

Funny how we didn’t take any photos during the torrid train ride nine years ago. Not a single one. We just huddled together and tried to sleep away the strange hours and never-ending rail tracks. That’s why I went back to take a photo of the train station before getting up the train this time. But once in the train I failed to be impressed. I was too old and too dreamy all together. My bones felt the never-ending song once more, but my feelings have strong color in images and no words. The photos are so beautiful they must lie about something.

More photos and sentiments to follow. If you cannot tell the past from now, it’s because I keep getting caught in someone else’s past and present.

Did I mention the journey on this train rides for ten hours?

 

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Bridget and Hwee Yee’s Sapa Holiday Part 1

It was Bridget’s birthday last week and I secretly planned months ago to take her back to Sapa, in the northern highlands of Vietnam. Sapa is where we went on our first holiday together 9 years ago – I desperately wanted to impress her then, but I was pretty bad at it (peeing in front of a cow and laughing H’mong people on Fansipan is not very sexy at all).

I still try to impress her now and then, but I’m still bad at it. Like this secret trip. It was supposed to be a secret, but I blurted it out one day when she was miserable and after that she wasn’t so miserable.

So, after much anticipation, we threw clothes into a suitcase in a haphazard panic the night before, didn’t sleep, and went to the airport completely dazed. Slapped our passports on the check in counter expecting a smooth transition to the plane, and the lady said, “Ma’am, your passport has expired.”

“You must be kidding right?”

“No I’m not kidding.”

Turns out that Bridget’s passport expired a week ago and nobody noticed. Well fuck.

I asked the lady at the reservations counter whether anyone has been able to get their passport renewed in a day.

“No, never.”

What do you do when the shit hits the fan? You go to Mcdonald’s and eat hotcakes. I call the airline office to change our flights to the day after and cursed Lady No Never. We were going straight to the ICA office to beg for an immediate passport renewal.

Bridget tells me that everything happens for a reason and maybe we have averted something.

And then she says, “Something is going to happen to a plane. Maybe not ours, and maybe not this plane, but something is going to happen to a plane.”

TBC

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Exhibit by Two

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Many years ago, on one feverish migraine-induced episode, HY sms-ed me this: you are a Sicilian, human-flesh eating giant crab. Over the years

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Park Paradise. Here.

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We went to Bangkok over the weekend, and even though it was just two days, we took it slow. So slow we could think and I read on the kindle for the first time.

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