I think this might be the longest time since I have gone without journalling anything down, and it was all for a fantastic reason - a much needed break that I was kinda dreading to go, and as always when I lower my expectations, I find the pleasant surprises that made the trip an incredibly enjoyable one.

I am saying that despite trying out almost every casino table, and losing at every game, and perhaps the biggest loser of all throughout the trip, and it still doesn’t taint the trip. In fact, I think I had the most enjoyable time in the casino, and that.. will be another story altogether when I finally repay my 1001 other photo/blogdebts.

And then the unexpected monthly hormonal flow that made me succumb to tampons throughout the trip, and it created 265673 other questions whenever I pulled it out and stared at it and getting morbidly fascinated and grossed out at the same time.

There is also the quality time spent with Minibean, who displayed the very much worst of her princessy-ness, and yet seeing her so filled with smiles and getting hyped and excited over everything… plenty of the sweetness.

Yes, the break. Not exactly the break I was looking forward to, but somehow I found answers.

Met fabulous people. Mostly casino croupiers. I nervously joked that it isn’t a good sign when croupiers greet you with that familiarity because you had hung around the casino tables once too often throughout the trip after the lil one was put to sleep.

I am still not a fan of cruises, but still a mega fan of activities and doing things I have never explored or done before.

And yes, let me go take a break from my holiday (can be damn tiring you know! The unpacking, the light laundry after the dark washes, and the dust and all!), and I shall be back with more, slowly paying back my blogdebts, which probably will be a damn good idea to stay home to repay the gambling debts I owe my bank account!

Last n0te: I think my television is mocking my fate, discovery channel is now sh0wing a feature of casinos. Do I hear my destiny beckoning? Hohoho.

I am just somehow awesomely glad to be back.

I will miss the gorgeous sunsets, fabulous people, star-lit skies, and the little adventures that got me out of my comfort zones.

And that….. impeccable sense of freedom. How liberating.

Best part? Though I did have a bad, bad course of internet withdrawal (I was okay to live without my phone for the 6 days, just not without my internet connection!), I managed to resist it even when I was inside an internet cafe in Phuket, and chose other activities over it. I was too lazy when I was in KL port, and decided to stay onboard and sleep instead.

I refused to give into USD 22 bucks of internet usage for half an hour onboard, and I am incredibly proud to say… I SURVIVED!

Wanderlust, needs another sensous, mind-tingling stimulation.

As you can see, after few chapters of The Lost Symbol, and a severe bout of cramps which forced me to nap a couple of hours (with strange dreams of me kissing a guy, whom I am not even sure if he does exist, just a simple chap, sleeping on a bunk bed in a boat, clean cut, smelling great after a shower, finding food for me, and with such soft, thin lips, and such, sensual, gentle kisses. Oh gentle kisses!), the book isn’t engaging enough for me to trudge on with it, so here I am, writing instead.

I first wrote about Hanoi when I was there.

And then, as I tried to piece the experience together through pictures, I only got so far with recounting the first day.

***

The only reason to get up early on Day 2 was the hotel breakfast, with views of the lake right beside us cos we have the entire morning free as the meeting wouldn’t start till 2pm (quoting a colleague, “And I told my mum I am here for work!“)

We had Pho every morning, and though the breakfast was impressive, we soon realised how it would be the same menu for lunches and the following breakfasts to come.

Since the food wasn’t too bad, our appetites were quite healthy

Right after breakfast, we all chilled by the pool, sipping juices and getting tan in the scorching sun. It is a waste not to utilise the sun and the pool with the weather being almost burning.

The best feeling was when we finally dip in to the cooling pool, and it was absolutely heaven! We got out intermittently for the juice, brief relaxing chats, or just the occasional “breathers“.

Such a delightful start to a Wednesday

(All pictures of scenery sans human beings are by Ian Tan, except the lousy one below the group picture. Haha, me “stealing” the use of his masterpieces, must credit him)

On our way to the meeting venue (yes, that’s what we wear to ballroom meetings), saw the interesting backdrop of a castle and it was the closest I can afford to a roof over my head at this moment.

***

The day was quickly over and we were told to rush to get dressed for our group photo taking session in the early evening before the sun sets.

I guess that was probably one of the most fun moments of the trip (okay, sans alcohol, I mean), when all of us had to dress up in Vietnam’s traditional outfit, and the girls get to keep theirs.

The only thing I was joking about was the prints, it makes us all look like we are prepped for the coffin instead of a photoshoot.

The Aodai is actually meant to be a strangulation tool, really. We had to wear them THIS tight, and then it is slit all the way up to your midrift, and exposing the fats at the sides, and is worn over this sheer pair of white pants. So check out how we managed to fit into one of the sexiest national costumes:

And tadang! Here and me and some of the most lovely colleagues I ever have. Though we aren’t exactly closely-knitted like how I was to my previous colleagues, but this is the bunch of highly-capable people who are most willing to share their knowledge and expertise.

And how can I forget Janice, the one who pieced the trip together, and someone I used to work with for events. She’s an absolute darling and I just adore the girl to bits.

As you can see we were all trying to act demure since we all know how docile and demure and gentle Vietnamese girls are (sibei chio also!).

And yes… now you get what I mean about the prints and colours… cough.

***

Right after our phototaking session, we all headed back to the room to change (yet again!) for the gala dinner within the hotel.

As I wanted to keep costs low and the luggage minimally-filled as possible, I just made do with whatever I could find within the wardrobe, and settled for my jersey instead.

I didn’t expect most people were really gamed and dressed up for the occasion and it was a pretty hilarious evening, and though many pictures were taken (a colleague joked if we want to get ahead, have a raise, promotion, and maybe an early retirement, we could have great use for the pictures we took), most of them are not for the public’s eyes.

I was thankfully spared from the alcohol session, and I didn’t manage to capture all the ammonition we had with us for the night, but it definitely was enough for us to have to carry some of our peers (or even, seniors) back to the rooms.

I am such a natural blond. Giggles.

Coincidentally, I wasn’t the only one who turned up with girlie plaits, and everyone really made an effort.

The winner of the dressing up was the lady in the bathrobe, she gave us all a surprise when she took off her robe, and underneath was a sexy ensemble of netted stockings and ultra-short shorts with tight fitting low cut top, ala a WWF female wrestler.

YES, BAYYYYBEEEEEEH! HAAAAAWWWWTTTTT!

For post-dinner, we ended up at one of them rooms, and sat at the balcony having conversations of many things that gave a deeper glimpse of the people I have known for a while, but never quite had the chance to go deeper.

It was nice, and the night was one I would remember for a long, long while, for lotsa reasons.

When I finally retired back to my room, the mood was one of evaluative, and I took one peek of the Hanoi’s night after a nice shower, then I burrowed into the duvet and braced myself for the long meeting the next day.

***

The last day of meeting was a full day event and we were rewarded to a nice dinner at Bobby Chinn’s restaurant in the evening.

The highlight to the restaurant was definitely meeting the charming, quirky man himself, who is dripping with ample sex appeal. He had just returned from LV grand opening in Singapore, and it was just coincidence that he was around, and thrilling the ladies.

After a day and half in the hotel and not venturing out to Hanoi town centre, we almost forgot how hectic the traffic was, with the honking blasting our ears again as we made the short trip to the quaint restaurant.

Love the velvety, scarlet-y feel to the restaurant,with the tongue-in-cheek decorations, especially the “G spot” we found in the loo.

It was a romantic place to be in, though we were expecting more from the food, but since it was set dinner, we couldn’t quite check out the other specialities.

By the time we got back to hotel, we enjoyed the rest of the night at the hotel’s drinking hole, and just chilled under the moonlight.

We headed back when it was getting late, and concluded the night bidding goodbyes to the other teams from the region, as most of them were heading back the very next day. For another colleague and me, we would be checking out even earlier as we would be extending the trip with some exploring done on our own, to see what more Hanoi had to offer.

I am not sure if this would be the last trip I would have with them, but this is definitely one I would remember dearly for years to come.

I have a hard time concentrating and staying awake this morning for yet another day of early, full-day meeting.

The aching in the body is definitely NOT helping.

I downed 4 pieces of Snickers/Toblerone mini, after 3 pieces of kaya/butter toast, hoping that I have some kind of sugar high to keep me going.

They did a miraculous job though I suspect one stick of cancer culprit did help.

***

Finally, I am gonna start (by right, I should be posting it in its entirety, but I sure delay until moo moo comes home) on the recap on Hanoi trip.

It was good to be on such a chilled work trip, which left plenty of fresh memories to last me for a long, long while.

It was a busy morning when I took a cab ride that cost more than 40 bucks to the airport (SERIOUSLY?!), and met up with the rest of the colleagues there.

Shopped around for 2 bottles of red wine each, and we ended up looking like a alcohol smuggling syndicate with enough alcohol to drown Sentosa.

The flight was only enough for me to watch one and half movie, and thankfully I didn’t get bored with Krisflyer’s help, before I entered a world nothing like I had ever been before.

***

Hanoi is quaintly beautiful, there is still an air of innocence about it, but it was just scorching hot during the days when we were there.

The only fortunate thing was we weren’t trapped in the flood due to the heavy rain storms the day before I reached, and the day after I left.

The rice field made me feel like walking around it barefooted, though I didn’t have the chance to do it.

I made a comment how some of the structures reminded me of the quieter part of Russia.

On the way, we passed by the Red River, flanked by tiny small houses, and it was a picture of exotica.
Couldn’t wait to get to the hotel, and it surely didn’t disappoint, as we resided on one of the lakes in the famed city of lakes.

(The picture of the hotel’s view in the centre, the guy with the piggies and us eating are courtesy of Ian Tan)

The hotel is really cosy, and there were woven baskets on the lake which made us wonder if we could row ourselves in them, but decided I probably couldn’t balance.

The massage pavilion was luxuriously pretty, though I couldn’t part with the money to splurge on a well-needed massage.

Upon arrival, we were greeted by the welcome team, and we checked into our room which comes with an attached balcony that opened up to a picturesque Westlake.

We got changed, and it was exploration time around Hanoi city centre.

***

One thing about Hanoi is, the traffic is infinitely intimidating.

And the honking NEVER stops. It is almost like a traffic offense if you don’t! It would still ring in your ears the moment you get away from the noise pollution, and I am just glad our hotel was tucked nicely away from all the buzz, and was very resort-ish with a nice pool that we couldn’t wait to dive into for a fulfilling dip.

We were almost wondering if there were any traffic lights in Hanoi, and we excitedly pointed out one when we finally saw one.

And I even saw a shop called “Scarlett - The Stylish Mum“, ahem, what a shameless plug!

Our first stop was Dong Xuan Market, but being a non-shoppy person, I walked away empty-handed, and was having a free sauna treat by the burning Hanoi weather, to the extend I had to bun up my hair with a pen I found in my bag. It also made the trip to Hanoi make-up redundant, laughs.

We walked for the longest time, with 2 NS-trained men leading us the wrong ways, before we got to Hoan Kiem Lake.

We took a cab to an air-conditioned mall to buy slippers/shorts, after being told the sneakers and jeans we brought were a tad too “formal” for the ballroom meeting sessions. Though surprised, but gee, absolute good news man!

Finally had a nice dinner with some of the others joining us, and we couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel for a nice, long shower to rinse the stickiness.

It was breezy, and absolutely cooling in the peaceful night of Hanoi (picture courtesy of Ian Tan again!), and the moon was beautiful.

Finally got into the showers, love the bathroom, though Marina Mandarin’s in KL still rocks.

I hid in the room and did a bit of work, surfed a little, and just stared into the far distance, lit by the night light, and its reflection dancing in the lake.

That was just before, the heavy downpour came as suddenly as it went.

Finally.

I got down to finish all these, and could venture on to other more recent sights and sensory experiences.

Reliving memories the way they were somehow feel… strange. Emotions you blocked out, like the ability to smile at memories given to you by many others whom you no longer have in your life, and frowning when you feel disappointment again as if it was then all over again, all these reminded your capability of feeling… somehow, after not being able to do so for a long, long while.

I don’t know why it is such a relief.

And then, these will be overtaken by the new memories, brought forth by new people, hopefully.

***

Upon touching down in London, we drew in a deep breath of the freezing air as we strutted into the dark openness as the automated doors drew open. The cab driver passed us some pillows and water, trying to get us comfortable for the long ride back to South Kensington.

It was early evening, but the quietness of the night made it seem much more serene, as if it was already much later.

What followed was a very, very sweet ride back, with fingers entwined, hair stroke, and endless conversations that peppered the journey back. Of places we visit, of tease, of banters, of the past, of times we used to share. I remember feeling relaxed, no longer tense. And then, there was the surfacing of the giggles which were seen just few months prior to this, but just not with him.

It was cold, and I was grabbed over. If it was the note to end things on, it certainly was then.

I remember when we were reaching London, many of the roads were closed and what would have taken us much lesser time to get back were delayed by detours and U-turns.

Hadn’t it wasted enough of our time?

We chilled indoors with Lynette and Brendan over, and Aunty Dorene cooking dinner for us. I had my head bowed constantly over my notebook to feed my internet withdrawal.

We spoke about work, we spoke about different things. Brendan bade us goodnight and what was left was a heavy conversation which I matter-of-factly told the ladies how I don’t want this anymore, not with spite, but because I do not believe in what they want me to believe in.

They questioned him, I told them I was just tired, cos it seemed like he just wanna string me along, refuse to let me go, and yet refuse to come clean. They questioned him, and I laughed concedingly that he would never dare to come clean for he would think that is the way to fool everyone.

Lynette asked, “Do you think he is really truly that deceitful a person?”

I looked her in the eyes and said with absolute confidence, perhaps taken her by surprise, “Yes, but he won’t admit to you guys. And okay, I give up. I really do. I just don’t understand why everyone is still trying to convince me to believe him, when he is obviously just good at covering up. These chances given to him again and again to come clean… and everyone thinks I am being paranoid. Trust me, he is still that liar he refuses to see himself for.”

Of course, they spoke up for him, and for me, I threw my arms up in surrender and then told them, I know you guys will once again write me off as irrational, but just take it that my choice is I don’t want this, but can he accept my choice?

I walked away from the conversation and I strangely didn’t feel anything too extreme, haven’t it been something I tried to get them to see but they refused to? Haven’t I been doing the same thing to myself too?

He didn’t accept my choice as he came towards me with the softer approach, the trick is, if the aggressive way doesn’t work, the lethal sweet-nothings, hugs, kisses, and fake promises, tears and beggings would somehow do.

If those don’t work, leaping over the parapet from 20th floor might work very well, and would guarantee you to get your way.

Well, that’s the aim of the game for them. To get their ways eventually. By hook, by crook. You see, when you fucked up, always get someone else to bear the consequences for you, that’s the easiest way, isn’t it? Hurhurhur.

That was the night when my emotions were stirred the most. Because some things, can really be too late and turn you cold. And then, you just play along, like how everyone expects you to, and you bid your time.

I don’t expect any of you to understand, of course. Especially not with how things are now.

Back in London, and chilled indoors with a fabulous home-cooked dinner with Lynette and Brendan.

It was a serious talk that I stand firm of what I do not want.

It was late when they finally left, and the thoughts that followed…

The next morning was one that greeted us chirpily as the sun continued to shine.

Aunty Dorene was delivered a spare car to drive as she got into an accident while we were away in Rome. It was a convertible of newer model, and cooler features. Sometimes, we really allow the technology to get too far ahead of us, that we didn’t even know how to start the car.

I just love the random streets of houses, with colours of spring framing the picture.

We went to High street Kensington, spent some time at Zara, and the usual brands, and since I had my field day at Bicester, I was too broke there was hardly any reason for me to shop anymore.

We walked around the neighbourhood and visited Aunty Dorene’s office, watched kids running around, stopped by quaint, little churches, and headed to Four Season’s to eat roasted duck for lunch. It was really, really, really, nice. Nicer than any duck locally!

We dropped by Selfridges again for me to get the VAT slip processed, shopped around a little, before we went back to freshen up a little and headed out for the evening.

Since there was a bit of time, we took the tube and stopped by Westminster Bridge, feasted on the charming view of London with a brownish hue. Absolutely, absolutely, lovely.

The familiarity of taking pictures across the junction to capture the Big Ben, which celebrates its 150th anniversary this year.

I need to dig up all those old pictures… hidden away somewhere.

I wasn’t sure if the half-heartedness to walk round Westminster Abbey was because everything kinda paled in comparison upon returning from Rome.

I used to study the tombs in the Abbey, often having this morbid fascination of the stories behind.

It was the day when Parliament was held, thus there were plenty of police, and big shots finely dressed queuing up to get in.

We followed the map and walked towards Trafalgar Square. I remember the moment in 1999 June, the day after I watched Jacky Cheung at Wembley, I stayed out till dawn before heading back to Croydon to get my luggage to head home.

The cab I shared with Howe Szuan had me sitting on the left, and I teared as it circled Trafalgar Square, with the pigeons flocking to it, as the morning light shone on them.

It was an impressionable goodbye.

This time, the fountains were under construction, and they weren’t alive. Nelson’s column still stood stoicly, and Admiralty arch still see endless cars holing through it everyday.

And the fabulous, fabulous National Gallery which watches over it, had me poring over much of the exhibits, and was the usual weekend hangout place for me and my ex-housemate.

The graffitis drawn by artists on the floor were impressive.

As we were flanked by the buildings as we turned out of Trafalgar, the streets were litted purple by the setting sun, and it was just a very tamed evening.

It was cold too. The coldest day since we got there.

We turned and reached Haymarket early to collect the stall tickets from Her Majesty’s Theatre, before succumbing to the temptation of the warm and cosy Empire Casino nearby cos it was simply too cold.

I used to sit out in the open to have an ice-cream at Rendevous cafe, and was surprised that it was still there, at that corner.

He suggested we sit down to have portrait drawn, but then I didn’t think we could sit still in the cold for that long.

So, Casino was the choice to go. It was almost 7.15pm when we walked back to Haymarket, and deposited everything at the cloak room.

A cool car which got us around. A trip to Selfridges, and walking around the neighbourhood to high street shopping area. The cute doggie at the office. Revisiting the familiar places which past pictures are long lost.

Love Westminster bridge, and the sight.. gee. Unfortunately everything pales in comparison upon returning from Rome.

Walked down from Westminster Bridge, past Big Ben, Westminster Abbey (I remember I used to study the tombs but this time parliament was held) down Trafalgar Square, fountains were closed. National gallery, my ex-housemate and I used to visit with a fabulous collection of art and all.

Drawings on the floor.

Walked down the charming streets backlitted purple by the evening sun. It was coldest day.

Trafalgar. Nelson’s column. Admiralty arch.

Reached Leicester early before the show at Her Majesty’s Theatre, and Casino made us poorer. Ate at casino, maybe jinxed.

The theatre didn’t seem big, but it was surprising the special effects they were capable of doing with the space, and the depth of it was magnificent. Took pictures in the theatre, with velvety scarlet curtains framing the 110 year-old building, though it has been a theatre site since 1700s. Pai kia is me, since phototaking was… strictly sneaky.

Many of the people spoke about how they had watched it for countless time, and it was only my virgin trip.

As the show started, we had a mega surprise when the Chandelier went up just above our head, and of course, how it came crashing down to signify the interval. Such proximity and all, and all the technicalities behind must be some kind of science.

I sang along to most of the song, and imagined myself to be Christine (okay shuddap! I don’t care what you think) like how an ex-classmate of mine and I used to do the “Ahhhhhh.. Ahhh..” to the end of the song in class.

“In sleep he sang to me… In dreams he came..”

The act put together was seamless. The Phantom was fabulous and I could see his snorts dripping, reflected off the stage lights. And his tears flowed freely and his anguished could be almost felt. He was deservingly showered with applause and standing O with wolf whistles at the end of it. I always sympathised with the Phantom, for he was… so alone. In a way, MJ reminded me of him too.

2 years ago, someone left a comment to tell me how great Melbourne’s Anthony Warlow was, and that he was one of the best Phantoms. Alas, he had retired in May from his masked days and I might never get to watch him. Someday, I would love to watch the other Phantoms singing their hearts out too.

But the one who struck me the most was Madam Giry played by Heather Jackson. She was.. just so captivatingly beautiful. Her poise, her voice, her looks. Gee.

During the interval, I was sprung a surprise of a mug to be used in the office. It had meant something for me back then.

We snuck out wearing bare minimal into the awful cold for a fag break, before returning for 2nd half of the show.

Post show, it was back to the evil Empire Casino since the rest were not out for the night, where we ate a burger. But I guess eating in the casino somehow jinxed the luck and we were in the red by the end of the night.

The surprise I spoke of back then. It had meant something back then.

Chandelier right above our head. Phantom of the Opera, with a fabulous Phantom. I could see his snorts dripping and tears flowing, and as they fell to the stage, you could see the stage lights reflecting off them, and it is no wonder he got the loudest applause and standing O at the end of the show.

“In sleep he sang to me.. in dreams he came..”

2 years ago, a reader left a comment of how Melbourne’s Anthony Warlow is one of the best Phantoms, and though I would love to see him, he has recently retired from his masked days. I will want to watch other Phantoms too.

The last full day we had with London was spent heading to Notting Hill, where we had brunch with the ladies at this chichi restaurant which was filled to the brim.

We walked down to Portobello market nearby.

Portobello market is filled with vintage treasures, spans across couple of streets.

It was busy, and had lotsa quaint stuff on sale.

The shop houses that backed up the roadside stores have the most dainty window display. Everything was so vibrant and pretty. It just cheers you up, like that.

Brendan joined us in the late afternoon, and we cruised around, and made our way to Richmond, where we watched the antelopes and deers roaming freely in the park. It was just so… nice and liberating.

I was screaming to be let down so I can pee cos I couldn’t see any loo in the vast space.

We then went to the town to stop by the roadside and see the other side of River Thames. Very beautiful.

We stopped by Cha Cha Moon for dinner, and we scooted off to run around the neighbourhood to print instant pictures, buy a thank-you card, and exercised some quick-thinking creativity.

It was late, and we managed to watch Duplicity though I had wanted to catch 2 Lovers. But Duplicity was one clever, funny movie that I smirked from start to the end.

It was a fabulous movie, which I think everyone should watch. Of course, I need to say Julia Roberts parked her bike at where we stopped ours.

Wanted to extend the night further but YL was already drunk by the time we dialled him. So it was a night of chilling over tea, and plenty of packing, sneaking in some time to prepare the thank-you gift which we presented to Aunty Dorene just before she slept.

Portobello market. Pretty colours. Quaint. Lunch at chi chi place. Shop. Dinner with Brendan. Watched Duplicity. YL was drunk when I dialled him.

The gift we put together as we bade London and South Kensington goodbye. We ran, we cut, we hid, we plotted, a nice surprise that kept Aunty Dorene smiling.

She lined her fireplace with all the pictures.

It was the last day as I tried to blog my last post from London, I heard Bittersweet Symphony on the radio. It was the only day we listened to the radio, and the coincidence was marvelous. Nostalgia, painfully thick.

As we got to the airport, the line to the VAT rebate was so long that by the time we got the rebate, we board the plane just 5 minutes before takeoff.

Didn’t even realise we were on the Airbus 380. Despite the very low flight fare, it was a pleasant surprise when it was the comfortable airbus, and we had an additional seat shared amongst us for me to lie on his lap across the seats.

Unfortunately my KrisWorld was fucked, and luckily I could shift my seat or else I would be forced to watch the system rebooting itself over and over again for the entire flight.

Took off my leggings straight away and I sealed the biohazard before I knocked everyone out with the distinctive smell.

Touched down in Singapore, and everything was in place, and ready.

Airbus 380! Plenty of room as we got all seats to ourselves.

I do not know what to make of this, but the memories finally are churned out, bit by bit. Some were nice, but faked, but then what I felt back then towards the people, were real. Some are more obvious as you thought they are, but there are a lot more whom you probably never knew exist or how they meant to me, because… time went by, and people had moved on.

Nonetheless, the experience, or just what each sight and sound meant to me personally, don’t get tainted just like this.

Bittersweet.

With some, you might have missed, since you guys probably see the obvious and missed out the hidden.

To all, thanks for the memories.

I always like traveling for the people I meet, the places I see, the sensory experiences, the stories I imagine, and how just a simple conversation with anyone could be so enriching.

The Brit I met on board and I spoke about Hamsphire, and how he knew Croydon very well cos both towns are of proximity. He had quit his project managing job to go around the world in 17 months, and he was already into his 4th month of wandering. He would be flying home in couple of weeks’ time to chill for 2 weeks, before flying off again to where he left off, and continued on with his journey.

I marveled and display envy openly.

That’s what some of them worked hard for.

It costs him 20, 000 pounds, and of cos, another 10, 000 for emergency backup.

Then, there was the Finnish who gets discounted tickets since he worked for the airline, and he spoke of the places he had been to, and how Vietnam had changed drastically in the past 15 years.

The Australian teacher who just got back from Sa Pa, spoke of her grown daughters.

The Danish family with 3 confident, young boys, who introduced themselves and gave us firm handshakes when they joined us onboard in the middle of the sea, somewhere, out there. They were well-mannered, and really sweet boys, and they enjoyed themselves by jumping into the jellyfish-infested sea from the roof of the junk. And then I thought of the conservative, sheltered way Asians bring their kids up.

The Chinese couple who were on business trip and gave us a chance to hone our mother tongue.

The Vietnamese guide who mistook us as cough, fashion models (cough blind cough), and shared his personal stash of green tea with us, and chatted to us aplenty, giving us backgrounds to his cultures and all.

We spoke of different things, different cultures, had meals together, and it was nice.

I learnt things I never did know, and my narrow horizon just broaden, somehow.

I dealt with the hottest weather I ever encountered in my life (okay, I remember the Australia heat some 16 years ago, but it wasn’t humid like that of Hanoi’s).

I felt so small in the big, big, world out there. I might never have the time, money and chance to see everything, or be everything, and the impulsion of letting my instinct guide me along, is becoming stronger.

Reading NatGeo isn’t helping much either.

Round the world ticket is cheap leh!

***

I am glad to announce I have put on weight from recent days of good food and a growing appetite.

I chomped on a burger, followed by a huge scone during a 3 and half hour meeting with my boss yesterday, and he gave the strangest laugh as he looked on to me munching non-stop.

I just had a set lunch after having an ultrasound done, but am now craving for scones again.

Bah. I missed a session today.

***

Seen and heard:

- It was Changi Airport on a Tuesday morning, when I was queuing up to enter the gate, scanning the load of stuff I bringing on board. My colleague let me go before him and then just as I was about to step forward to place my bag onto the strap, this man hopped right before me and placed his stuff onto the moving belt. As usual, I just stared blankly in shock. Tsk! The audacity! My colleague loudly said to me, “Eh, don’t jump queue can or not?“, which I suppose was said to me but subtlely aimed at the guy before me. Of course the chap was too deaf to hear any of such, or maybe he just didn’t understand English. Just as I was moving forward after he was done, a flood of people from the back suddenly stepped before me and followed what the chap did.

I widened my eyes in mocked horror, and looked on to the aggression helplessly, before the immigration officer saw the wooden statue of horrified Ting, stepped in and asked all of them to queue up.

I had to be careful not to be jousted as I made my way into the flight.

- The flight was taxiing when the lady beside my colleague took out her phone and started chatting. Stunned, she asked the lady to switch it off, and with some help from the younger lady in front of them, and some gesturing, the lady begrudgingly kept her phone.

Just when the plane was revving its engine, ready for take off… *RING RING* and the lady’s phone rang.

My colleague, understandably panicky from the horror stories/myths of aviation, and some other passengers had to intervene to get the very annoyed lady to switch off her phone.

- To anyone wanting to travel to Vietnam, please note that some of their old notes are already not in use anymore. Beware of cab drivers who insist on you to use 100, 000 dong note, so they could give you change. We learnt it the hard way after being given some of these old notes as change. So yeah, we got conned.

- On the return flight, when everyone was strapped to his seat, and the plane was picking up speed for ascend, this lady in her 50s, suddenly stood up and started walking up and down the aisle. The air steward flustered and raised his voice for her to sit down, an advice she failed to heed. So he had to quickly unstrapped himself and rushed to her to  get her to sit down and wear her seat belt. After he had returned to his station, and the plane was just taking off, her younger companion from another aisle turned to watch out for the steward before unbuckling herself and moved across the aisle to a couple of rows behind to change seats.

- I held my breath on the plane when one of the passengers started coughing relentlessly.

I think I am start to brew a cough……..

- Vietnamese women are gorgeous, sweet, demure, and have the greatest smiles. Vietnamese are mostly very humble. The service staff do not speak good English, but just be a little patient and you can see the amount of effort they put in. They are really a sweet bunch. I think the staff at the Ritz Hotel(hohoho!) really left a fabulous, fabulous impression.

- Because of a last minute change, the whole bunch of us had dinner at Bobby Chinn’s, which I thought I wouldn’t have the chance to check out this trip. Thanks Irene for the heads up and brilliant recommendation(though it was my boss’ idea for the last minute change of venue)!

I so wanna marry a half-Chinese, half Egyptian now. So hot lah, with the distinctive widow’s peak…

And yes, the highlight wasn’t the food, but because coincidentally,  Bobby “the man” Chinn was in the restaurant and he came by to the table to say hi.

So hot lah. Giggles. He just returned to Vietnam after popping by Singapore, he said.

Then I saw him on the magazine yesterday, attending LV launch. Speak about coincidence.

***

Over dim sum supper last night, I was told my shift to my new domain hasn’t been all that smooth, apparently due to the 10MB of database of text (pictures not inclusive at the moment) accumulated over the years.

Woops.

Upon visual inspection, I was told I probably don’t need a boob job, before I cautioned him not to be fooled by the hormones and fillets.

Honestly, I am apprehensive, and I ain’t sure. I have people who egged me on, and some (normally those who don’t understand the woes of the small nehs haha) objected to it.

But then a part of me just want to do it so that I don’t look back and think about how I should have done it but I didn’t, and what it would have been if I did.

Somemore not say I got budget, but then got instalment plans and subsidies lah.

Okay, so tomorrow if I have bigger nehs, you will hear about it!