Christmas strikes again

Banter on the flight to Lanka,
before the hysterics started...

The ‘Air Asia’ logo looks back at me as we sit waiting for the plane to refuel so that we can jet off to sweet home Sri Lanka, via Male the capital of the Maldives. It’s Boxing Day and no one’s really ‘with it’ just yet. I stumbled in with J at 4am, giving us approximately 3 hours before the shrill piece of cake compared to the UK. Opening your eyes from under a heavy 50tog duvet, the ringing of that annoying alarm you’ve been conditioned to associate with wake-mode and just… darkness. It has to be done fast, like ripping of a plaster, you know the hairs are going to be pulled out regardless, why make the process slower than it needs to be? The alarm rang and it was time to up and go/ moan and deliriously pack my bag that was brimming over with piles of crumpled up clothes – organised mess I like to call it, something a fair few students/ teenagers seem to understand. I wiped the sleepy dust out of my eyes, dad had already given us the wake up call but I knew my alarm would give me another 15 minutes. I could never really understand the concept of being able to ‘chill out’ when you know you only have a few minutes left… I get that bodily sensation of every cell pumping itself up until I can’t take it anymore and my legs swing themselves around until I’m standing vertical on the floor, having transitioned away from peaceful slumber and a comfy bed. Waking up in Asia is a

A lovely catch up at KLCC with H and K <3

A and I <3

I arrived in Malaysia to the warmth and sunshine just over a week ago, how time flies eh? – If I got a pound for every time I said that I’d be a rich girl. Despite the short time, I feel like I’ve covered most bases. Getting back into the humid rush of the tropics, emotions running rampant and jet lag greeting you in waves. Seeing family and being the ‘child’ again after having had complete independence – not having to do all your washing up or share cupboards or fridge space, having your clothes washed for free and family dinners! Clicking with old friends after years of no contact and feeling like you’ve all just returned from a very dense spring break. How do you catch someone up on what’s been happening for the last 2 years of your life? Is it the bad times that stand out, the magical moments, the spiritual awakenings or just the present state of being? I like asking people how they are at the time because that’s all that really matters, of course the experiences and the stories are what got us to this point, but we all have so many and why waste energy dwelling in the past, when it’s the moment you have together that makes another story for the next person. Walking through pavilion with red eyes at midnight, indulging in rich, creamy ice cream, lunch with H & K - 2 old friends from The Overseas School of Colombo/ Sri Lanka who I share a 3 – year catch up with whenever we’re in the same place, shisha time, pool sesh’s, delicious meals out, beer towers, swims, yoga, presents, Malaysian grass and booze.

Christmas morning came around and we cuddled up in dad’s bed to open our stockings, which were hilarious. You know your brother’s reached puberty when he starts pulling out face wash, deo and blemish sticks. I on the other hand got chocolates, lingerie and… a grinder? Love you Santa.

KL crew's first night out :)

The first night I was back I saw J again, after 6 months of long distance, having been through the hardships of longing and lusting we finally got to experience the initial moment of locking eyes, without having to be on Skype. Feeling that familiar, overwhelmed, ecstatic and confused sensation all in one go, do you kiss or hug or talk?! My eyes streamed and heart pounded as we embraced for the first time in too long and just held on as tight as possible for a while, wondering whether it was real or not. The last time we’d seen each other was 6 months ago in that very spot. It felt like the time that had lapsed had been a different slice of life– I’d lived mine in Bristol and he’d lived his in Aus, different people, different experiences and yet here we both were, back at square one, something we understood together again. Do you know the theory that we exist in multiple universes simultaneously as the same person, but in infinite possible situations. Like the butterfly effect, when one tiny thing changes, the rest of the story does too – if every single possibility was to happen at once, our reality now/ perception of what we see is one of those possibilities because of the way the human mind has learned to conceptualise time and space. We think of time as linear and progressive, when in actuality it’s one point in space and that point symbolizes everything that’s happening at once, hence the importance of ‘presence’. We spend so much time planning our future or worrying about our past, but if we died in 2 minutes, none of those thoughts would be significant if we hadn’t taken the time to live those 120 seconds to their fullest – YOLO I believe is the expression? Haha, sorry…

Before I boarded the plane in London, I wondered whether I’d run into anyone. It’s quite cool that as International kids we could be in any airport anywhere in the world and still see someone we recognize or know, standing right next to us. M from Alice Smith was on my flight so we chatted and caught up, the general theme being that going home was something everyone was craving. It’s interesting seeing how everyone’s taking Uni, A lot of people seem to take a while to find their feet, including me. You’re thrust out of this spoon fed, easy going bubble of fun, expat living, cheap food, taxis, free drinks, great clubs, shitty music… to independence, bills, cold weather, reality. Of course that’s slightly cynical and there’s a lot more to it than that, a lot that’s beautiful and life changing and fun. But for the sake of argument, it’s a big shift that involves big emotional turnovers leading to this suffering in the form of disorders, drugs or disease. My heart goes out to all those having a hard time <3

On the other (slightly less depressing) hand, it’s great hearing stories from those that are loving life. R’s living it up in Sweden surrounded by beautiful, blue eyed blondes, C ‘s experiencing her love for Bushduf’s in Aus and H has her head firmly on her shoulders with a great group of friends in Holland. It’s also great being able to give that experience to each other – a drunken night out on Changkat full of laughs and dancing, being 19 and walking into our old hang out spots while you feel the evil eyes of 14 year olds wondering who you are and what you’re doing in their space… as you look back wondering how old they are and remembering the days when we were them. A meal at 3am at Nasi Kandar where the common favorite is roti Cannai and Milo ice, £2 for something that takes 5 minutes top to inhale.

Family at christmas

Last night after a huge Christmas dinner of turkey, duck, roast potatoes & all the trimmings, a stodgy Christmas pudding, apple crumble, minced pies and large glasses of baileys, R and I were planning on finding someone to rub our tummy’s for a bit before we became mobile enough to walk/ go out. We held our food babies and reveled in the satiation of stuffed-ness. You know food comas are a real thing right? As you’re eating your body releases dopamine, a hormone responsible for states of excitement, ecstasy, happiness, that’s followed by the slow release of serotonin and melatonin – the hormones released when one goes to sleep hence why you feel sleepy after a meal. The Spanish have it right with siestas – when I bought that up over summer my cousin suggested that that’s the reason things don’t get done fast enough there contributing to why they’re in such a bad way, economically. I can’t imagine London chilling out enough to stop everything and sleep for a few hours after lunch; you can’t even walk slowly in London without feeling out of place. A nap?! Pshh. If only.

Jack and Jill :)

So with our full bellies, my red drunken face and a Christmas spirit, we took the bus to KLCC and walked over to Changkat to have a couple of happy hour drinks with the upbeat Aussies J and J. Joined later by other friends we moved from one bar to the next, from Sambuca to long islands to beer to cider. We sat in ‘fish n chips’ a bar down the road, with the first man sitting down ironically chowing down a plate of fish and chips – good advertising. J got up to break the seal and came back chucking a live lobster on the table that crawled around frantically as we all stared in amazement at what had just interrupted our conversation. ‘Cannot lah! Cannot!’ the waitress squealed as she looked over our shoulders at the live sea creature, pulling The chef out of the kitchen after a few minutes, to put the little guy back in his tank. Causing more trouble J and J disappeared for a bit to say hi to a few other friends at another nearby bar, Healy Macs. We soon ran into them, ripped Calvin Klein shirt, hyper demeanor and wide eyes at having sprinted away from a bouncer that had obviously woken up on the wrong side of the bed and hurled a few punches before realizing he wasn’t going to get them. We thought we’d get out pronto so off to J’s hotel we drove, clambering up to the rooftop to spin around in awe at the panorama of KL on Christmas night. The orangey glow of city lights added warmth to the scattered skyscrapers. We lit up and exhaled, talk going from small to medium to deep deep down into the depths of the ocean. Enigma codes, fractals, human perception, the creation of math, 3D printers AH brain-ache. I sat hours later on the same side of the table as R facing the fluorescent, empty hallway of lights and sipping on a Milo panas (hot chocolate) just absorbing our flow.

Bright and early on xmas morning

Christmas night <3

Time was ticking, 8 days had already gone by, I still hadn’t packed, showered, been home or hydrated
after our night of drinking, I could almost hear my alarm going off already, ugh get us home! We all hugged tight and said our indefinite goodbyes to each other, getting into a RM10 taxi for my last ride home in however long it would be. It’s a scary thought not knowing what the future holds isn’t it? But at the same time, like the ‘simultaneously infinite existences’ that I mentioned earlier, there are also infinite possibilities of what might happen in our future so we can only really flow with it and see where it takes us. Right now I’m being taken back home to the country I lived in for the longest, to stay in our friends fairytale wooden/ glass house in the rubber plantations, a hippy eco-village for New Year, a dive and surf in backpacker central/ Hikkaduwa and some family/ friend time at good old Galle fort. How I miss it so. Merry Christmas everyone, live up the last few weeks of 2013 before the post-crimbo diets begin ;)

Recipe of the day: Christmas Pud
http://www.deliaonline.com/recipes/cuisine/european/english/traditional-christmas-pudding.html

A bumpy start

The little Laotian lady & J's injured arm

Our first meal by the riverside

The tables seem to have turned concerning a number of things. 1) I started off travelling with 1 girl and 1 boy.. crazy J. came a long and the female vibes just kept coming. Now, I'm one girl in a group of 10 lads. "It's like a fucking Forest down south, can I borrow your razor?", "RUGBY TIME!", "Beer, beer, beer!". I exaggerate slightly because they're all genuine and wouldn't hurt a fly but it's a funny turn of events. 2) We left Vietnam expecting calm and tranquil. I've picked up a tummy bug (sticking to a vegetarian diet for once) and on one of our slowest motorbike excursions so far, we skidded on a dirt road and managed to land ourselves in the hospital for the second time in an hour. The doctor looked happy as our money bags jingled in regret. I sat on the ledge watching J. on the bed nearest to me and a little boy on the one furthest away, both being stitched up. I sat there with a few cuts and bruises, tears streaming down my face as I swelled with the pain of J's arm, and the little boys foot on the other side of the room. The little boy had his eyes squeezed tight as they ruthlessly clamped down his legs to stop him from squirming. I attempted to distract J. from his pain by talking to him about home, mum and dad and his best mates back in Aus. choking on my own tears didn't seem to help the situation. I held my thumbs up and strained a smile to the little boy on the other side of the room to keep his spirits up, but mine weren't in full functioning order either so the attempt was in vain. The nurse came around and squirted some white alcoholic solution on my cuts and bruises and after a quick job (that turned out to be infected only days later), the doctor wished us good luck, put on his jacket and walked out. I turned to the window behind me to see the other boys waiting patiently, rolling around in wheelchairs, it made me grin. I just didn't understand where all this bad karma was coming from. Only hours before I'd been lying here having a blood test to check whether I had malaria or not (thankfully it's just food poisoning) and wanting to just be cradled and looked after..Lying in a hospital bed is never fun, i could just think of how only weeks earlier I'd been lying in one in KL, hospital environments are just so unnatural. The smell, the equipment, the people, the energy. Thankfully the blood test came back negative for malaria, and while the doctor attempted to convince me to have various stomach scans that would cost a ridiculous sum of money, I payed what I owed and left with a sigh of relief that it was only food poisoning and I wouldn't have to admit defeat and fly home in a few days time.  It was only until later that we saw it as a sign that R&R was in need. A few days of no drinking or doing, just settling for a little. It was ironic that on our day of recovery i watched the clip my mum had sent me a few weeks earlier, that was so appropriate for the situation (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lx-AtPKWf9k&feature=share&list=UU1KIUp4PNCyIwCPTq1hYzWQ). One of the best things I got from it, besides a lifted spirit, was reaching enlightenment is like learning how to surf in a sea of waves. The waves can be both good and bad, sometimes you catch a great one and ride it for a while, and other times you tumble under the surface. You can't convince yourself you're always in a happy place because it's cruel to deny the dark side of the yin-yang. It bought me to the thought of intuition.. Just before the crash happened I was holding onto the back of the bike, imagining a scene in which we'd skid around a dirt corner and topple over, brushing off the thought with a shake of my head. Only minutes later did it actually occur and I was suddenly lying ontop of J. our wheel spinning and a dust cloud settling over us. I rolled over with a bruised knee and the boys all pulled up, gaping at the scene. J. pulled his sleeve up to reveal a deep gash, more were to be found on his hip and grazes in various other parts. We groggily drove back to the hospital, the thought of biking through the rest of the country losing all appeal.

Me and 'Mama'

The bus ride earlier wasn't fun either, sitting on bags of hard rice as we rocked side to side, the number of passengers increasing constantly and the number of goods (whether it be chickens, cabbages or potatoes, they just kept on coming). The pangs in my stomach would come and go in waves and I attempted to breathe into them and continue discussion with the boys or nod off to sleep against the hard glass window.. neither of them really working as good methods of distraction. We arrived and got into a tuk-tuk to get to the strip of guesthouses that we hopped between before settling on first one we'd seen. 4 in one room, 3 in another.. a few valium later I was passed out and in a happy place, the pain temporarily gone for the time being..
Laos had started with a bang and now we were at a crash. We'd began in a little border-town village that was tranquil and cheap, exactly what we needed. We stayed at a little guesthouse on the edge of the Mekong and after a swim with the locals, we checked out the town to take a few snaps and get a feel for where we now were. Passing an internet cafe with huddles of boys playing 'WOW' and 'Runescape' - it's funny how no matter what country you're in, the universal habits stay the same. At our guesthouse every night, there was a huge 'family dinner' for everyone staying there. Unlimited vegetarian food piled on plates that you helped yourself to, a long with unlimited shots of their local rice wine, that they continuously filled up during the meal. When the staff had gone to bed, they curiously placed 2 full bottles on our table, and left the fridge full of beer, unlocked (not smart when there's a group of drunk tourists stumbling around). We conversed with our new french friends, a drunk mix of languages spanning the room while we slurred words about a trek we were all set to do early the next morning (which of course never ended up happening, given that we were breathing rice wine till well into the afternoon). After a few days there and enough shots of rice wine we moved on to the next town, checking we hadn't left anything behind this time.

As we sat and ate our meals, Jack turned around to brush away a 'mosquito' that he heard in his ear. Only to realize it was another of the little old Laotian women wearing traditional dress and chewing beatle nut, making their funny 'shh shh shh' noises and trying to sell us 'bracelets'. After a few 'no no's' they opened their little bags to reveal huge bags of weed and little packets of opium. They'd go as far as to stuff it under your T-Shirt to get you to buy their (disappointing) products. I laughed as they tried to convince Jn. (a policeman in training) to buy their class A drugs.. but a few poppy fumes did help lighten the pain, only in Laos. We later bumped into our french friends from the first town, who'd made the trek the next morning, and spent the evening discussing picking clementines in Corsica  the next move on my agenda when I return to Europe. We all groggily got into bed, talking about aliens, the supernatural and how crazy the concept of wiki-leaks was, before drifting into a deep and beautiful slumber.

We didn't want to hold back our boys so for the day they went Kayaking while we rested and recovered.. before booking our tickets for the 'long boat' to Luang Prabang, our next stop. I'd been 2 years ago so was interested to see how different it'd be without the family, nice restaurants and no budget. We'd lost one of our boys N. who'd just finished his national service in the Israeli army and had a limited travel period so had to move faster than us, hence the group had shrunk again, (which did make it slightly easier to keep track of everyone.) We'd missed check-out time again, and were waved off by a hard-faced woman who was running the guesthouse (but I could understand as a single woman running a guesthouse you'd have to be on the ball the whole time, especially when people don't follow instructions, we couldn't exactly expect a friendly response).While on the bus, going up a fairly steep hill, we suddenly came to a halt as the engine stopped working and we narrowly escaped a crash with a local truck full of people. We began rolling backwards before the driver cleverly started the bus in reverse and we continued on, sighing in relief that this wasn't the end of our journey (for the second time). I'd stopped taking all the pills i'd been prescribed, my tummy ache was easing (ironically) and my mood was lighter. J. and I played word association games and laughed non-stop as the rest of the crew nodded off to their music.We had a quick toilet-break before the 7 hour boat ride, seeing the sign 'pay for toilet' annoying everyone. I hate it when they expect you to pay for something that's so basic and necessary. So everyone turned the corner and went in the bushes behind the facility.. almost expecting to see 'pay money' signs behind the bushes.

Coffee and Cigs

The long-boat was great fun. We motored along slowly, watching locals wash rice by the sides of the Mekong  pink water buffalo lapping water on the rocks and little boys frolicking by the sand as the older men stood behind them patiently with fishing lines. We read books, snoozed, jammed with guitars and harmonica's, sketched and talked. The time flew by and we were soon at the next town, that bordered Thailand 'Houeiai', where we stayed at 'BAP' guesthouse that was recommended in lonely planet. The woman running the guesthouse told us to call her 'mama', and was adamant that if we left we weren't allowed to come back. 'That's not fair mama' I said, 'no no you no say that's not fair, you go you no come back!' She made us laugh and obviously knew how to run a business. We played a new Spanish card game that night 'Escola', had some Lao tea and fresh mango while watching the sun set behind the red hills in Thailand (that was only 100m away across the Mekong). We then moved on to 'Pakbeng', the next town, before we caught the second-half of our long-boat journey to LP. A man stood where we arrived, with a sign saying 'BuonMey guesthouse' and shouting 'Bone me! Bone me!' that made us all giggle childishly. On the back of the sign was crossed out 'happy shakes, opium shakes, happy pancakes, opium pancakes' and that made us laugh even harder. We followed him up to his guesthouses, he'd sold it well, an odd character, completely ADD and switching between mocking English accents, to telling everyone to 'shut-up!' to giggling hysterically. I couldn't keep up. A group of others followed him as well  they'd pre-booked and weren't impressed with the steep walk up the hill, not what they'd read in the description when they were promised a 'free-ride to the guesthouse'. His excuse being 'oh the bus was late'. He claimed his name was 'Marco Polo' and we soon realized, like his name, his pitch was a scam as well  The rooms were dingy, the hot water didn't work, the extra bed never came, the happy shakes weren't happy enough and half the items on the menu were 'unavailable'. We still fell asleep happy that night, discussing childhood memories of 'Clifford the big red dog, spot, smurfs, Baba the elephant, Postman Pat' and so many more that bought fond smiles to our faces. Jn. smiling more than he had been 20 minutes ago when he'd discovered the giant spider in the corner of our bathroom (his one weakness besides heights).

Our make-shift meals on the boatride

We were awoken for the second half of the long-boat journey earlier than we'd have liked, with a bang on the door from 'Marco Polo', "GET UP! BOAT LEAVING!" We quickly ordered our fried rice, fruits and snacks to take on the boat, trying to avoid the extortionate rates that they tried to charge us. The first day we'd made make-shift meals of sticky rice, cans of tuna, soup from pot noodles.. borrowing bowls and cutlery off of our new Lao friends sitting in front of us, that were more than happy to practice their English as we tried to slip in a few words of Laotian. On the boat I thought back on all the people we'd met so far and how many had left their mark.. one in particular eliciting a furrowed brow .. the man we'd met in Nha Trang, Vietnam. He was 57 and had been in the British army, working as a sniper for the last 22 years. I remember talking to him over buckets of alcohol, crying as I watched the pain in his face as he told us about his best friend dying in his arms, the children he'd seen shot by their parents, the missions he'd had to be on and the amount of people he'd had to kill. The shadow loomed over him but rays of light still shined. The one most harrowing story he told me was of the brothel he'd had to break into. The men running it would sexually abuse girls from the ages of 7 - 20 before killing them and roasting their heads on spits, he'd killed each man involved and told us this with shaking hands and salty tears. J. and I couldn't imagine the pain he'd been through, and felt lucky to live so free of so much trauma and death, inspired by his strength we felt like that was the most we'd gained from any conversation at 'Why Not Bar' so far..

The boat ride passed faster than the previous one, I closed my eyes and 'a minute' later, we were already in in L.P, the French colonial buildings greeting us on arrival - I love this town, a world heritage site with no loud traffic, noisy rude people or big buses. We Followed our friends advice and trekked with other groups of backpackers to 'Spicy Lao', the hostel everyone was staying at. The adventures of which will be saved for the next post..

Recipe of the day: Laotian prawn curry

http://anhsfoodblog.com/2007/01/coconut-love-laotian-prawn-curry.html/

Glide with me

Christmas trees <3

Looking outside the window I get shivers and tingles all over. A mini mandy rush as the pale sunlight reflects off the thin layer of frost that's blanketing the ground - the foundation of winter. We're at the beginning, the progression is taking place as we all wait in anticipation for the white snowflakes to make their presence known, before the bitterness sets in and the everyone's hardiness is put to the test. My level of respect for people living in ridiculous climate conditions like Greenland, Sweden or Canada - where there are literally months of darkness, has grown considerably. And this is the beginning? My friend came back from Sweden telling me about the funny light contraptions people wear on their heads. It's basically to give them the 'sunlight' and vitamin D that they can't naturally get from the sun, as well as preventing SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) etc.. The thought of resorting to artificial sunlight triggers so many alarm bells in my head, I wouldn't be able to cope with that but kudos to those who do!

The boys

Ice sofas

That's one thing I feel I've taken for granted -- sunlight. The grass is always greener on the other side though right? As Ginger tells us.. ;) -- Living in the heat involved wearing the thinnest clothes possible and no make-up (in fear of it melting off your face) with a the odd hoodie under your arm for those freezing cold, 16°C classrooms that we'd spend half our day sitting in. Warmer weather does drain more of your energy, your body relaxes into a sleep-wake state and your mind drifts as the waves of heat take their toll. My godfather here refuses to turn the heating on in his house to keep everyone 'alert' and stop it turning into a huge, warm, lazy sofa come January. I'd much prefer a the latter but hey, I'm not paying their electricity bills so I don't really have a say. Despite the docile attitude the heat can create, it is a lot easier to deal with. You don't have to worry about forgetting your 50 layers of clothing as you run out the door in shorts and a hoodie - mislead by the deceiving blue sunny sky (yes, this has happened to me on more than one occasion). I suppose it depends on the person and their preferences but I'm definitely more of a warm weather kinda gal - the tropics is a 17 day reach away and the hourglass is sifting that sand faster than I'd like so I shouldn't really spend it complaining about the cold.

My girl

I had a bit of a magical moment the other day. Gliding across the ice with 'santa clause is coming to town' being strummed and sang in a jazzy melody from the bandstand in the centre of the ice rink. I was feeling wintry in my (*faux) fur waistcoat, woolly hat and gloves. The first 10 minutes were terrifying - that unnatural feeling of being out of control as you try and gain your balance while trying to maintain a level of composure and not look like a complete numpty falling on their ass for the 10th time. I let down my guard and held onto the railings with the only other people on the rink that were in my boat, most of them being 10 - 12 year olds.. My mates went zooming off as soon as their skates touched the ice, letting go of any kind of fear and joining the mass surge of ice skaters as they rotated clockwise. Slowly, slowly I picked up the rhythm and was off with them - breathing in the cold night air and watching the millions of little Christmas lights blend into one as we got faster and faster. The bell tolled too soon and it was the end of our turn, we stumbled onto flat, dry ground, feeling funny as the sensation of walking slowly became normal again. The rest of winter wonderland awaited us with open arms. Wooden cabins serving mulled wine and warm cider, hot chocolate, hog roasts, churros, crepes, mountains of macaroons - the options were endless and all so appealing. It reminded me of the party I went to a few weeks ago, 'Regression Sessions'. It was themed around 'childhood', a time to regress - there were various rooms with games, ball pits, bouncy castles and lots of different DJ's. Children's nursery rhymes infused with techno beats echoed through the halls as crowds of drugged up teens swayed through the doors. A little ironic, and a tad corrupt - but lots of fun nevertheless. Winter wonderland was like a childhood fantasy come to life. I walked over to one of the games and bought 7 hoops for 3 pounds. The only aim was to loop a ring around one of the 20 prizes in the centre, I laughed when I saw how easy it looked. But the phrase 'looks can be decieving' rang through my ears as my hoops disappeared to nothing with no prize to claim. That was the only 3 pounds I spent on games that evening.

Mountains of macaroons.

I left Hyde Park with a fun and festive feeling. Reminiscing on how it felt to be 6 years old, waking up on Christmas morning and jumping into your parents bed with a stocking filled with pressies. I'd always pick up my stocking extra carefully, imagining that only hours ago, father Christmas had held it in his hands and filled it up specially (no sexual implications here, I promise). The carrots that we'd left out for the reindeer would be gone, and the glass of brandy for santa would be empty. I was afraid that that feeling of excitement and anticipation was gone, and the only feeling I'd wake up with on Christmas morning was a heavy head - but I've just learnt that it can come back - the beauty of the impermanent nature of feelings.
 I was walking to the station yesterday, passed Sainsburys, the off license, my old school and the post office, when I came to the pub right by the zebra crossing. It was 5pm and the skies light was dimmed - on the wooden table outside the pub was a little boy, about 4 years old. He was lying on the top of a table looking up at the dangling lights above him and just smiling. His eyes glittered and happiness radiated from his beaming face. His nanny was a few metres away shouting at him to get off the table because they needed to leave. We made eye contact and shared a cheeky smile, before he turned back to the lights and resumed his imaginary fantasy.

Just before the bell

When you observe kids and the interaction adults have with them, or even us - It's funny that our automatic response a lot of the time is to tell them off for doing something wrong, this engrained need to control them by assuming the worst. A little boy was running his toy car across a newspaper on the tube yesterday, and got told off for disturbing the man next to him - the man was smiling softly with no hint of blame - it's so unnecessary  I find myself doing that with my brother as well so I understand - I think it comes down to just loosening up and seeing things for what they are, like I mentioned in 'The monster in the closet', it shouldn't take something that does matter for us to realize what really doesn't.

Bathroom jams

Something else I respect about children is their ability to entertain - as adults we have our various methods to reach our ecstatic and whimsical fantasy worlds, but kids do it all the time, naturally. Yes, they don't have the same kind of responsibilities weighing on their shoulders and their heads aren't full of baggage - but if they can enter a state of bliss by merely looking up at Christmas lights, who's to say we can't do the same?
I'm trying to soak in as much of the Christmassy London vibe as I can before I go back to the tropics. I feel a sadness knowing I have to leave behind this home that I'm finally used to.  It's always felt impermanent knowing that there was a timeline to it all - but it's comforting knowing it's still going to lie here unchanged, with all it's bells and whistles when I come back next summer. There's still so much to be discovered in London - I've tasted the cherry that sits on a mountain of cake; so the sadness is impermanent too, like the sand that's making it's way through the hourglass.

Recipe of the day: Churros

http://allrecipes.com/recipe/churros/

Is that a bell I hear?

The first lights

The lights are up on Oxford Street and the bells are starting to ring - Christmas is fast approaching! I wondered down the street at 5pm, the sky was darker than a midnight sky in KL, the air was fresh and the lights were twinkling. Giant candy canes, presents and santa claus's were everywhere as you craned your head to look into the bright yellow lighting against the suitably dark background - and then the massive 'Marmite' light appears - just in-case anyone was wondering who the sponsor was! Talk about being subtle..

Oxford street

I've begun tuning into this method that everyone seems to be using, and now I understand why. Spend hours walking around shops, being distracted by items you don't need, stressing out about prices you can't afford and then leaving after a few hours with nothing because indecisiveness took its toll. Or, click a few buttons and have whatever you want delivered to your doorstep a few days later. I don't really like the reliance on technology, but if you embrace it, your life can be made so much easier. I'm talking about on line shopping just in case you haven't clocked. There have been times when my lack of technology skills have landed me with 5 different phone covers from eBay when I'd only ordered one, or a broken digital camera (I'd missed out the 'refurbished' label on the item description page). But you can only learn from your mistakes, if everything in life went smoothly all the time, we'd be bored senseless.

Fambam

Thanksgiving's just passed aswell - something the Brits don't really go mad about but having been brought up in International (but Americanized) schools my whole life I've always had those amazing American friends (that over emphasize any festivity in such a contagious manner) that have invited us all over for  huge.turkey.dinner. Now in Psychology, it's been proven that our memory's are inaccurate hence when we think back on an event it will never be exactly what it was due to subjectivity and ra ra ra. But I like to think that some memories are accurate, even if you fantasize them into more than they are - who really cares, it makes for a better story. One such memory was when I was about 12 years old and we were invited over to T & D's for Thanksgiving dinner - We drove up to the house and out the front windscreen I could see a red hat with a white bobble peeking out above a huge sleigh. The other kids that were invited were jumping onto Santa's lap for a photo in his sleigh as the parents stood around and cooed lovingly. I walked into the house, and it was like we'd been teleported to a winter wonderland special. There were decorations everywhere, the AC's were on full blast, lights were twinkling, and gingerbread, chocolates and cookies were scattered around the house in idyllic red and green bowls. The evening rocked along to the carols that were playing as a perfectly suitable background soundtrack for the night; the first course of rich mushroom soup appeared accompanied bread, rolls and the like. The main act followed, a huge turkey, cooked to perfection with a side of roast potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce etc etc etc. The after-main palette cleanser of champagne sorbet followed and then came the stream of countless desserts, pumpkin pie, Christmas cake, cookies, coffee, chocolates - talk about a food baby. We were all preggers by the end of it, and slept like babies that night - waking up with out bellies still full. If there's ever a festive season to over-indulge, I'd give Christmas the prize. It's been my excuse for putting on the extra pounds lately, it's winter, it's cold, we're in need of insulation - animals hibernate for however many months, we need something to keep us going!

I do have friends that aren't as in to the Christmas buzz as I am - and use the argument of authenticity to bring down the mood. I slightly agree but I enjoy playing into it, cynicism isn't for everyone. Yes, Christmas has lost a lot of what it stands for -- I mainly follow the ideals of Buddhism so Christmas isn't about the religious aspect for me, it's about the coming together of family, friends and food, the extra's are just part of the fun. Yes, as a society the commercial side of festivities takes over a lot, we buy into what they want us to believe - we have to buy this, eat that and go there to have a 'merry Christmas'  but even if the exterior of the season is painted for us, the interior is the reason we love it so. That feeling on Christmas morning can't be bought with money or sold through an advertisement - but sometimes the ride's funner than the destination.

My distorted memory in a snapshot

Gingerbread late's and minced pies  in Starbucks

Besides the lead up to Christmas  we're also leading up to the big day that's been written about, made into films, and debated for years and years. The Auspicious day of December 21st. 'The end of the world', the end of the Mayan calendar  the day world war 3 starts, the day the economy changes for good, the day we lose all our natural resources, or the next ice age starts because global warming goes a wal!  What to believe, what to expect? The advise I've been given for that day, is 'be with someone you feel spiritually connected to and spend the day with them'. Whether it's sitting down meditating, having a really good heart to heart, or just laughing about nonsense. I think December 21st marks a change in human conciousness. Over the past few months/ the last year, it's been a huge time of change, as it always is, but more-so. The shift has been immense, the amount of political mishaps, natural disasters, emotional breaking points, deaths etc. have been increasing at a seemingly exponential rate as though testing us - as though to create a divide between those that can handle it and those that can't. Those that can will sore post-Dec 21st, and continue to grow in a positive fashion (speaking in linear terms here), whereas those that haven't been able to handle it, getting too caught up in the web of confusion that it's created, will not flourish as so. There's a 'spirit science' clip that explains what I've adopted as my belief -- not to say it's right, but there are too many options to sit on the fence on this one. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=adyqBP5selM) One thing I will say, is I don't think it should be a time of fear - anxiety's one of those feelings that isn't very progressive and because the ever-so-daunting future can hold anything, we may aswell venture into it with our chins up.

A wintry night out

I'm still in my PJ's and am pondering the idea of getting dressed but can't really face the brief few seconds of feeling the harsh cold against my skin as the transition into day-wear begins.. deep breath, here goes.

Drink of the day: Eggnog

http://www.simplyrecipes.com/recipes/eggnog/

M&J In wonderland

The caterpillar

I sat on the tube today on my way back from work and just listened. I could here the tinny electronic beats of a clubby techno tune that the guy next to me was listening to. The girl opposite was stressing out about which station to get off at, constantly shifting in her seat and itching to get up as the doors opened at each stop. We were at 'Gospel Oak Station' according to the Ladies recorded voice that repeated its way down the carriages. I was on the last tube of the night - it made me think how unbelievable the concept of tube/ train conductors are, we still have them? Technology's developed to the point where we have bar codes splashed over everything to enable people and their smartphones to access a specific website/ product etc. My friend whom I stayed with in Holland had a robot that automatically switched on at a regular time bracket every day, to clean the house, and webcam's will soon become a thing of the past as holographic projectors begin to take over. These are just a few minor examples of how technology's improving, yet our system of public transport that is used by thousands every single day, is still such an old world idea. I wonder how many years it will take for electric pods to zoom us through the tunnels of the underground in no time at all.

Nature

This weekend I managed to escape the tubes, trains, shops and city life for a country getaway at my Aunts beautiful estate in Wiltshire. It was 6pm when we arrived to a dark night sky and fresh country air. We strolled through the fields for half an hour to wind down and take a few deep breaths of the countryside. I'd brought one of my best friends along for the experience, she'd never been there before so it was exciting sharing a familiar home. It's funny seeing things by night, if there are no lights on and you stare ahead of you, anything could exist. It reminded me of the movie Coraline, there's a scene where the little girl and her cat walk 'off the grid', and  nothing ahead of them exists. Castles, seas, city's and towns could have been in front of us and we'd never know until the morning. But sure enough, the sun rose the next day, and it all came to life - the rolling hills of green spotted with clumps of trees, sheep and horses. The foliage is all dying away and it's nearing the end of the mushroom season but we still managed to find a million different kinds in the long grass and on the stumps of tree trunks.  Mushrooms are fascinating, in a previous post I mentioned a TedTalks video based on mushrooms and their magical qualities (I'm not just talking about hallucinogenics - they are incredible [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XI5frPV58tY] ). They look so alien as well - from afar the elephant ear mushrooms look like white plates thrown onto the grass, others look like warped pieces of tissue paper and some are just your stereotypical helmets on stalks, with colours ranging from white to yellow to orange to black.

Alice moments

I had a few family commitments but managed to fit them all in breezily; lunch with Gran followed by a quick spot of mince pies and tea - it made me appreciate my English heritage. I took M. for a stroll in Gran's garden, passed fragrant lavender that's not nearly as wild as in the summer. Frost had started to form over the little flower buds and a light layer was on the ground below. Bonding time with the cousins was also in order, zooming over the hills on quad bikes at the highest gear they'd go as our hands and cheeks lost all sensation (and colour) due to the nippy weather, fishing for Pike on the edge of the wooden dock that leaned over the running water and dossing out to 'friends' on the sofa, with the heating on full. I saw hale for the first time since I was 8 and ran to the window like an excited child - earning me strange looks from everyone in the room. I stuck my hand out and felt the icy stones pelting down and melting as they landed. I can't wait for snow to fall - it would make the cold bearable having a beautiful white blanket surrounding you.

Self explanatory?

That evening we tasted our freshly picked shrooms and spent the next couple of hours giggling and dancing under the stars, watching them twinkle and float into all sorts of shapes and sizes. We sat down to 'Dumbo', an old time favourite, our eyes glued to the screen as 'Pink Elephants on Parade' began. Watching the cartoon years later takes on a whole different perspective. All I could focus on were the pencilled lines of the characters, it's such a difference watching old-style cartoons when each movement was drawn out instead of being completely computer animated. The old Disney films have such a magic touch that no new one can capture - nostalgia filled the air and I finished the movie with a new life-goal, to adopt the sweet little elephant with the oversized ears.

giggles x

Hongos

Our country weekend rounded up with a food coma. We sat around the table with a Sunday Roast and lots of wine; Roast beef, Yorkshire pud, roast potatoes  roasted veggies and all the condiments. Food really brings people together - and is something I've noticed that family members always leave with you, as long as you've left the kids fed, the rest can sort itself out. We sat on the train back to London feeling nourished and revamped, with our countless bags that were stuffed as tightly as they could be onto the seat next to us. An hour and 45 minutes whizzed by, and we decided to end our holiday with a bit of Wasabi. (Low-budget Japanese food, HIGHLY recommended). We're lucky to be living together as we didn't have to face the depressing scene of unpacking alone and filling everyone in on how amazing your weekend was, and how upset you are to be back. We unpacked laughing about our time together and the moments that only we'd understand, and snuggled down to an episode of breaking bad before popping back down the rabbit hole and entering into a Sunday night dream.

Recipe of the day: Roast Beef

http://www.jamieoliver.com/recipes/beef-recipes/perfect-roast-beef

In a tourists shoes

T. and his cheese

I've had a few days in Amsterdam But it's all been a bit of a blur. I roamed canals, sketching the floating houseboats that drifted passed me. Checked out little market stalls selling scarves, coats and hats. Being pulled in to by the most useless things - almost coming out of the market with old tin boxes and books that I'd never read - until sense kicked in. We made our way up to the Rijksmuseum - enjoying the 30 minute walk past the bustling coffee shops, the temporary funfair in Dam square and café's. We got to the Museum centre, van Gough on my left, the contemporary art museum on my right and the closed Rijksmuseum straight ahead. We walked into the museum shop to browse through the books on artists and their work; I ended up spending half an hour reading about contemporary, political and abstract art, so I still gained a little something from the (free) visit.

Post-dying phase

Stretching the sugar

Stretching the sugar

I don't like the fact that all the museums cost money here, there's the 'hemp and marijuana museum that's €9, the sex museum that's $4 and the art museums that are all around €15. I did have a little sneak-peak into Van Gough's 3D exhibition. At the entrance before you pay for your ticket they had 3D glasses, that created the illusion of the paintings coming to life - looking at the screens was an interactive van Gough experience as you were virtually taken through 'The Yellow House', out of the window to gaze at 'Irises' and then carried up into 'The Starry Night. We couldn't decide between paying for a peep-show in the red light district or a stroll in the sex museum, but to be honest - the red light district was a full on exhibition already. You passed windows with girls of all shapes and sizes wearing kinky clothes and doing their thing inside their glass boxes. Most of them avoided eye contact with other girls but some had the confidence of queens and held their head up high no matter who walked passed. We soon decoded the lights in the windows, red meant girl and blue meant tranny - at least you got more than one option?.. I saw a 'for rent' sign in some of the rooms and after ranting about how ridiculous it was for a woman to put herself up for rent (getting into my inner feminist) a friend explained to me that the signs referred to the rooms and not the women - woops! I still did feel a pang of sympathy for them though, it was so degrading. It was though we were all in a shop, with all our options parading themselves in front of us in little glass boxes.. The only thing that reminded me that this wasn't just a tourist attractions and it was a real life set-up, were the few creepy old single men leering under the shadows, and the police who stood ready at the street corners. It has a completely different vibe here to the red light district in Thailand, that feels quite dodgy - In Holland, everything feels safe. We never made it to any of the shows that they had on offer, or the sex museum but we had our fair share of provocative entertainment. 

Goats cheese and mustard, hm

We also managed to catch a bit of Amsterdam night life - being economical teenagers we had pre-drinks at a friends apartment, huddled in the living room with glasses of wine and malibu-cokes. It was funny being the odd one out, not being able to chime into the conversation once the Dutch started kicking in. I'd have my friend L. turn to me every now and then to explain what was going on -- but it rarely matched the dialogue that they'd been speaking in my head. Watching people's body language and facial expressions as they talk I've learnt, isn't actually a great representation of what they're actually saying. For example when we were crossing the road the other day, a Dutch woman stopped her bike and said something to my friend with a smile. My response was "Oh she looked nice!" When in actual fact she'd said rather patronizingly "This is a road, yeah?" With a slightly malicious smiles, Implying that we had to move out of her way pronto, and hope she stayed smiling :s. 

Our night out in Amsterdam was fun - the walking in-between venues wasn't as our hands and feet lost all sensation, and body heat just seemed to stop generating. But the clubbing scene was great - We went to 'Paradiso', a well known club that's quite central, full of hundreds of raving teens and cheap drinks (surprisingly)! We danced till 5 in the morning before making our way back through the crisp night.

Muffins and tea!

Mexican breakfast!

Cheese fondue

Stoopwaffles

Rather hungover from the night before the alarm clock did not go down particularly well but prior commitments to see an old friend whom I hadn't caught up with in 4.5 years won, over another morning in bed. The cold does wonders in waking you up that's for sure! I was reunited with my old buddy and it didn't take long for the conversation to flow as we reminisced over our days together in Sri Lanka. One of the weirdest things though that I've found, is when you haven't seen each other in so long, the list of things to catch up on is so immense that it can be hard knowing where to begin. Sometimes new topics of conversation or just discussion of little things going on around you are easier than sifting through the ups and downs of the past. I do love the sudden flashbacks of people, places or things that haven't come to mind for years - and remembering the person you were to them and how that's changed.

We spent the day being tourists in Amsterdam. Prancing around cheese shops with hundreds of free samples, munching on stroopwaffles, watching candy being hand-made, stopping in at various coffee shops (both kinds) and restaurants for a casj Mexican breakfast and spot of fondue. It was a day of splurging, the hot chocolate that T. ordered came in the form of a wad of pure chocolate on a stick that had to be stirred into the accompanying mug of hot milk that was served with cocoa dusted chocolate almonds - I hope your mouth's watering as much as mine was. 

We later met up with other old friends from Malaysia in 'Belushi', the one coffee shop we'd found with huge black sofa's that we all lay down on as our minds rose in unison. I couldn't tell you what happened within those few hours, but it was all shits and giggles. As the clock ticked on, we unwillingly left the warmth of the coffee shop and pushed through the cold (that had dipped to -5 degrees) to the station as we struggled to keep our eyes open. We soon needed a rest so we stopped off for hot chocolate and a glass of warm wine - $3.50 per glass but so worth it, before continuing on, and eventually arriving in Leiden where I was staying for a night. After a hot shower and clean PJ's we munched on our recently purchased chocolate muffin - it made us all very happy indeed ;). The rest of the night was spent in a wake-dream state wondering where I was, realizing, and then wondering again - but it's funny that no matter where I am now, If I'm comfortable, it feels like home.

Recipe of the day: Baked breakfast burrito's
http://www.tasteofhome.com/Recipes/Baked-Breakfast-Burritos