Jules Barrass's Blog
Gili Islands Revisited – Gloom or Boom?
1 Comment
With the soft opening of Indonesia’s new Lombok International Airport coming soon, I can’t help but wonder what will happen to the tiny Gili Islands, located just off the North West coast of Lombok. I struggle to imagine what impact it is going to have. Negative or positive? The new airport is at least twice the size of its neighbour’s airport in Bali, and will be able to process over a million passengers a year. Lombok’s predecessor was only big enough to land small prop-planes for those who could afford or dare take the nail-biting short internal flight. The new airport will be big enough to land a Boeing 747, bringing international tourism en masse to Lombok.
Map of Indonesia
The first time I visited Indonesia was over a decade ago in 1999. I travelled extensively throughout the country, island hopping all the way from Sumatra to Flores before war prevented me from continuing on any further. I remember clearly, the huge influx of refugees who had fled East Timor, pouring across the whole Indonesian archipelago. It was also the time Indonesia was having its first democratic elections since the fall of the tyrannical President Suharto.
I had already narrowly missed a terrorist attack on a bus in Sumatra. Thanks to being misinformed about the bus schedule, I missed the overnight bus to Aceh and was stuck in Medan. The next morning I heard news that the bus was stopped by insurgents. The passengers were allowed off before it was set alight. A couple of people were shot but most escaped unharmed. It was enough for me to decide to head south and see the forgotten Sumatran Orangutans of Buwit Lawang instead.
My next major encounter was riots in the streets of Bali, specifically Lovina in the north. Trees were chopped down and set alight to create flaming roadblocks to prevent the army from entering town. The local prison was burnt to the ground and over a hundred escaped convicts were running amok. Christians and Muslims were at war with each other, leaving burnt out shells of churches and mosques in their wake. The election result announcement of Megawati failing to come to power triggered a short sharp burst of violence. The whole of Indonesia was a tinderbox waiting to spark into chaos. I needed somewhere to retreat and recharge my batteries so I opted for the laid back Gili Islands.
Other than taking the pricey prop-plane white knuckle ride, the only other alternative transport to the Gili islands was a tedious slow affair involving a passenger ferry from Bali, which included sharing the deck with hundreds of people and all manner of livestock. As with all public ferries in the region, they were always dangerously overloaded. Alighting at the ferry terminal was chaotic and I bagged whatever transport I could get my hands on to get me to Mataram, the capital city of Lombok. It was only a short journey, and if I remember rightly I think I managed to strap my backpack onto a motorcycle taxi and rode to Mataram as a pillion passenger clutching on desperately. Once in Mataram I had to negotiate another taxi ride to Bangsal where finally I hopped onto a small boat that took me across to Gili Trawangan, the largest of the three islands. The other two are known as Gili Meno and Gili Air. Even the names of the islands have a certain charm to them. The whole trip from Bali to Gili Islands took the best part of a day.
A decade on, I was recently taking a holiday in Bali, and after a couple of days of hassle by the notorious beach hawkers, I decided to return to the Gili’s to see how much these beautiful paradise islands had changed. The first change was the fact I could book a speedboat crossing from Bali direct to the Gili Islands, which took just over two hours. The speedboat crossing itself was spectacular, skimming through the crystal clear waters with the constant shadow of Bali’s active volcano Gunung Agung at port side.
Gunung Agung in distance
We occasionally passed die-hard surfers who must have paddled two hours to reach the far outer reefs. The waves were perfect barrels and watching the surfers disappear into the white foaming monsters was heart stopping to say the least. Triumphantly the surfers popped out the other end of the tube waving hands in the air, well most of the time anyway. The wipeouts were brutal!
Into the shallow crystal clear water
Approaching Gili Trawangan, you can’t help but be mesmerised by the crystal clear waters below. It is a blue which is truly hard to describe or capture on film. On alighting from the boat you are immediately greeted by friendly easy-going touts who double up as drivers to take you to your chosen accommodation.
Island transport. Taking a nap in the heat of the day.
There is absolutely no motorized transport on any of the three Gili Islands, not even a moped. ‘Your carriage a-waits!’ As you climb into the back of the wooden framed two-wheeled horse-drawn cart, I couldn’t help but feel a nostalgic twinge in my heart. Trotting down the dirt track road that circumnavigates the island, I am amazed the place hasn’t changed that much. More dive shops, more bungalows, a couple of resorts at one end of the island, more restaurants. My first impression was it had still somehow managed to maintain its desert island charm I remembered falling in love with.
After finding a quaint little bungalow to call home, I went out for a walk and was further amazed at how much Gili Trawangan had managed to preserve its character, despite the small building boom stimulated by the recent direct speedboat crossing. It was a delight to return to a place that hadn’t sold it’s soul. The small mosque echoed its call to prayer, fishermen were coming home with their catch to sell to the beach-side restaurants, all of which do a damn fine seafood BBQ. Ponies trotted past with the sound of tinkling bells, a couple of cows were wandering along the beach. In nearby Lombok, storm clouds were gathering atop the massive volcanoes, yet on the flat sandy island of Gili Trawangan, the sun was shining and sea sparkling with that beautiful blue.
Beach and reef
That water…time to take the plunge. I had completed my PADI Advanced Divers on my first visit so was familiar with the local dive sites available. This visit I opted for a more relaxing break away from scuba diving, so I grabbed a mask, snorkel, and fins, and went for a snorkel straight off the beach where my bungalow was. I was not disappointed.
Imagine jumping into a giant aquarium with thousands of species of colourful fish, but this aquarium has no walls and goes on forever. A short swim out to the reef’s edge, it plunges vertically down into the deep blue. Shoals of barracuda swim alongside, glimpses of giant grouper following like curious puppies, and when the sloping sandy banks reappear, there are turtles, lots and lots of turtles! The awe-inspiring sight of these ancient mariners gliding elegantly through the blue is an emotional experience, no matter how many times you’ve seen them before.
Chilling with the guys in Gili Meno
When not in the water time was spent hanging out with a few of local lads who I rented the boat from. We became friendly and they offered me some insight into their lives. Most of them had come from other places in Indonesia looking for work and a peaceful life. The Java boys told tales of the mean streets of Jakarta, where turf wars erupted and people get stabbed for less than $5 US dollars. The eldest was from the Gili’s and he liked to talk about all the changes on the island since my first visit. Most of all, they loved my ipod and JBL speaker dock I had with me at all times. One thing we all had in common was a love of listening to music. Bob Marley is god on Gili Trawangan and the island even has its own live cover band, which I have to say is the best in Asia. The lead singer is a reincarnation of the man himself.
Hanging out with the locals, island hopping, fishing, diving, surfing, eating incredible seafood every day, it is hard not to lose yourself for a while on these paradise islands. I recommend to anyone out there, if you have a chance to visit in the next couple of months DO IT NOW before the airport fully opens. Lombok is earmarked as the next luxury destination, and international hotel chains are gearing up in the sidelines to build resorts.
My thoughts reflect on past history, and on moving forward. Indonesia is still suffering from insurgency and religious divide. Unlike neighbouring Hindu dominated Bali, Lombok is mainly Muslim and the local population have been known to harbour hostilities towards tourists in the past. Add to this the economic issues such as poverty, corruption, and crime, I do wonder how international travelers with designer luggage will be received? I imagine the resorts will become impenetrable security compounds, and the beaches turned into private enclaves restricted to paying guests only. I really hope I am wrong and development moves at a sustainable pace and is local community inclusive.
I pray for the future of my new-found island friends who I know will struggle to adapt to the coming changes on the horizon. I worry the sudden influx of cash loaded tourists will cause negative impact and resentment in the local communities of Lombok. As with many cases of development, local villagers tend to come off worse and do not reap the benefits of this kind of fast progress.
The Gili Islands to date have survived because of their relative remoteness. They are like three tiny tear drops cried from heaven, with a backdrop of volcanoes shrouded in clouds of mystery all around you. The surrounding coral reefs sustain a huge life cycle and has some of the best diving in the world. It is as close to paradise as you can get. I hope in another decade’s time the islands have managed to keep their soul intact.
Tags: Gili Islands, Indonesia, Lombok, Lombok International Airport, scuba diving, Travel
TRANS MANCHURIAN MADNESS
1 Comment
With CNN’s eyes on Russia week coming to an end, and lots of hotel activity occurring in Moscow, Ekaterinburg, and beyond, I thought I would share an article I put together after my journey through Russia.
The Vostok 20
After sitting around Moscow’s Yaroslav Railway Station for an hour, I have serious doubts creeping up inside. Eyes glance at me from all directions, a lone female traveller sitting on luggage, sticking out like a sore thumb. In front of me, a second drunken brawl breaks out. Before any real punches fly, Police appear waving batons giving both men a couple of hefty blows before dragging them off out of sight. I pray the train is going to be friendlier than the station.
The red and blue carriages finally come to a halt and I walk the staggering length of the platform seeking my cabin. The uniformed Provodik’s who tend to the train stop me, check passport and ticket, then point me on again. Finally I am allowed to board by a burly looking woman who sternly commands me to enter. ‘She’s not to be messed with’, I think to myself. At 11:53pm the Vostok #20 shunts into motion, precisely on time.
I have decided to take the Trans Manchurian Express, travelling along the longest railway line in the world at over 6,000 miles, passing through two continents covering one third of earth’s surface, crossing seven time zones in all. Six days of self induced cabin fever lay ahead, confined with a cross section of Russian society!
The Trans Siberian rail network runs from St Petersburg to Vladivostok and Beijing, though technically the St Petersburg to Moscow is run separately and has high speed train services linking the two main Russian cities. You board the train in Moscow where you have a choice of three routes, the Trans-Siberian to Vladivostok, the Trans Mongolian to Beijing via Ulaan Baator, and my choice, the Trans-Manchurian to Beijing via Harbin.
The journey promises to offer a tantalizing glimpse into Russia’s history, from the beginning of construction with Tsar Alexander III, to its completion during the reign of the last Tsar Nicholas II, through the rise and fall of communism, and on to the modern day democracy of Vladimir Putin. Like a bloody vein connecting the vast Siberian wilderness to the rest of the world.
A Siberian Settlement
The first couple of days, scenery is grey nothingness broken up by stops at industrial towns with onion domed churches and names such as Gork’ij, Perm, and Ekaterinburg (Yekaterinburg). The enigma of Ekaterinburg still lives on today. This is the place where the bodies of Tsar Nicholas II and most of his family were finally discovered in the late 1980’s after Mikhail Gorbachev came to power and brought reform and a degree of openness to the Soviet Union.
The last Tsar, or Bloody Nicholas as he was also known, was gruesomely executed along with his family and trusted servants in the basement of Ipatiev House in 1918, orchestrated by Lenin in Moscow and brutally carried out by his Bolshevik guards. Today stands the ‘Church on the Blood’, a Russian Orthodox Church built on the site after the house was raised to the ground in an attempt to erase the past. Rumours of the youngest daughter Princess Anastasia surviving the massacre resonated for decades, and is still a hot topic of debate today.
The history of the railway is as bleak as the scenery passing by your window. Constructed between 1891 and 1916, heavily influenced by war, it took some 90,000 prisoners and soldiers armed with primitive tools to complete. It was the 19th Century Russian equivalent to the Great Wall of China. Its financial cost only shadowed by the Great War itself (1914-1918). Famine, tyranny, war, it is estimated some four million Russians died during this bleak period. They say every sleeper represents many a soul. A very sobering thought when drifting off into motion induced sleep de dum de dum..de dum de dum!
Inside the Trans-Manchurian
Vodka runs through the veins of Russians and train life consists of socialising with other travellers over tumbler sized glasses no matter what time of day. Russian hospitality is impossible to refuse and the motion induced, vodka riddled dreamlike state plays tricks with your sense of time. Reading, sleeping, eating in the restaurant car, or making your own tea and coffee at the Samovar, a hot water boiler located next to the shared bathroom at each end of the carriage completes the daily routine.
Stretching legs at station stops, which can last anything from five to 25 minutes, offers a welcome break from confinement. It is a good chance to stock up on supplies from food hawkers peddling their wares such as Kolbassa sausage, stale bread, cigarettes, and of course more vodka. The cold hits you as soon as you alight and you rush through the bartering process with military precision ensuring you get back to the warmth of the train on time. I shudder at the thought of being left on the platform with scary looking gypsies drinking around oil drum fires, like a scene from Mad Max, Stalin style!
The harsh Siberian weather conditions helped defeat invaders such as Napoleon and Hitler. Temperatures have been recorded as low as -50C in these parts, where fingers and noses break off from exposure. It is hard to imagine how people survive the conditions today never mind during the construction period. Being so far inland away from any warming sea air currents, Siberia is one of the coldest places on Earth. Gladly, today’s trains manage to maintain a relatively constant temperature throughout the year.
Lake Baikal
Scenery turns into dense forest, crossing rivers and valleys and it is easy to imagine a Brown Bear or Siberian Tiger leaping out from the woods. The whole train rises early on day three and everyone makes to the aisle still dressed in gym jams. Lake Baikal, also known as ‘The Blue Eye of Siberia’ is the oldest and deepest freshwater lake in the world, earning its UNESCO World Heritage status in 1996.
During the Russian Japanese war period, rail lines had to be laid across Lake Baikal’s vast body of frozen water in winter, transporting hundreds of carriages a day fully laden with troops destined for the front line. In summer a special ice-breaking ferry navigated the waters until the Circum-baikal section was completed. The ship was specially designed and built in the shipyards of North East England, the very same shipyards I remember as a child, having been born in the region.
Some 39 tunnels were finally constructed, cutting through mountain skirting the vast lakes edge. This was the most difficult section to complete and cost an untold number of lives. It is difficult not to think about the poor prisoners with pick-axe and shovels enduring unimaginable conditions.
Lake Baikal is also home to an absolutely delicious delicacy. With an unscheduled stop on the lakes edge there is no time to alight from the train. Hawker’s rush to the windows and trade commences, fish flying in and Rubles flying out. The smoked Baikal Omul fish is definitely the highlight of the journey in cuisine terms. Not to be missed!
An old Mongolian trader takes the spare bunk in my compartment at Ulan Ude. I name him Mr. Omul after the smoked fish I’d enjoyed for breakfast. Ulan-Ude, founded in 1666, is the capital of the Buryt Autonomous Republic, which in the 13-17th centuries was part of the vast Mongolian Empire. I relinquish my low bunk to Mr. Omul after he puts on an Oscar winning performance relating to his back and inability to scale the ladder. Bunk secure, the wily old goat springs into agile athletic action cramming his hessian bails below. The smell is completely overwhelming, pickled, fish, horse stink. Abandoned ship!
I find refuge with a lovely Russian family I had befriended in Irkutsk. The mother being a Judge they were relatively well off in comparison to other travellers, who were mostly traders peddling their wares through Siberia and beyond. Headscarf covered women with missing teeth and whiskers, a drunken man mumbling incoherently singing military marching songs were just a few characters I met on the train.
I had opted for a cheaper ticket rather than the opulent offerings fit for a Tsar on private trains. The Judge offers me caviar and cognac in exchange for English lessons with her daughter. I happily oblige late into the night until the slurs take over. Back in the cabin, nose offensively twitching at Mr. Omul, sleep finally ensues through his snores. Thank god for Cognac!
Day four is spent hanging around Zabaikalsk and Manzhouli where rail gauge is changed, passports checked, and finally you are back on the move after several hours at the Russia/China border. After all, this is one of the more notorious smuggling routes between Europe and Asia, not to mention its military sensitivity. Be careful where you point your camera!
I soon discover the restaurant car has changed as well as the gauge. Goodbye salty pickled staples such as Solyanka and Pelmeni, sour soup and dumplings with potato, cabbage and unspecified meat, hello yummy Chinese food!
The scenery melts from the barren flat steppe of Inner Mongolia to industrial, culture from Russian to Chinese passing through Harbin, famous for its winter ice sculptures. Harbin is typical of Chinese ingenuity having utilised its biggest resource – ice – and turned the place into a winter wonderland tourist destination with modern high rise buildings and flashing neon lights washing out the darkness of winter.
The last night on the train brings a party atmosphere to the aisles with new Chinese friends sharing pork buns and old Russian comrades still shooting vodka. After six days of cabin fever even the stern looking Provodnik’s finally succumb to Trans-Manchurian madness in the end.
Tags: CNN eye of Russia, Ekaterinburg, engineering, great railway journey, history, lake baikal, military history, Moscow, railway, Russia, Siberia, trans manchurian, trans siberian, Travel
HOTEL MINI BAR WAR
3 Comments
Browsing through my news-feed on facebook I am always excited to see new photo albums posted by my good friend Koko Kitayanabhongse – fashion stylist and photographer at Harpers Bazaar magazine (Thailand). Gorgeous and glamorous fashion models, glimpses of new trends and products, and all things oh so sexy and cool!
At first I laughed at the thought my lovely friend taking such an interest in hotel mini-bars. We have had many a party in our past and I know his love for all things naughty but nice. Being a headhunter in the hospitality industry, I then appreciated the contents of the mini-bars on display.
In the hotel business, quality and class can make all the difference and is taken very seriously – how many threads in your bed linen, the softness of bathrobes, and purity and origin of your toiletries. All those nice little touches that create a ‘wow’ factor.
In a corner of your suite sits the mini-bar – tempting you with their annoyingly expensive snacks and beverages.
For all my Hotelier friends and clients out there, and with the permission of the photographer Koko – I thought I would share this photo album with you.
Alila Cha-Am - Thailand
Alila Cha-Am Pool Villa
A nice balance with Champagne, chocolates, and a good range of soft drinks from Alila Cha-Am.
Couvent des Minimes Provence - France
A colourful selecton from Couvent des Minimes, though I can’t see any snacks in this one.
Citadines Paris Montparnesse
Not very inspiring from Citadines Paris Montparnesse.
Mandarin Oriental Bangkok
I am not sure what to make of this one? For such a well known and highly respected hotel, I expected a little more. I will have to check back with Koko and inquire as to whether it really was just water, or the contents were so good he demolished them before taking the picture.
Bonanza Kao Yai
I’m afraid there is not a much of a bonanza going on in the mini-bar at Bonanza Kao Yai.
YMCA Singapore
A fridge full of empty at the YMCA Singapore – delicious!
Chedi Chiang Mai
The box of colourful chocolates, possibly m&ms caught my eye. Perfect for sitting munching on when staring at the television.
Four Seasons Singapore
A reasonable array from the Four Seasons.
Ibis Milano Centro
Fresh strawberries in your mini-bar – a very nice touch.
Grand Hyatt Jarkarta
A well presented mini-bar from Grand Hyatt.
Grand Hyatt Seoul
And a thirst quenching selection from the Grand Hyatt Seoul. No sign of snacks in this wall of beverages.
JW Marriott Shanghai
Another thirst quencher from JW Marriott.
Ritz Carlton Kuala Lumpur
A nice mix of beverages and snacks though no sign of any chilled wine or Champagne.
Sofitel Santuary Sentosa Singapore
June 2009 update
A month or so on and I have six more snaps from Koko to add to the album. Any readers wondering about the Mandarin Oriental Bangkok’s empty fridge, I have been assured the fridge was empty as the room was being used in a photoshoot rather than as a guestroom, hence why there was only water. We can’t have models and photographers running amok in a drunken state during working hours, can we.
Intercontinental Hong Kong
With Louis Vuittons ‘A Passion for Creation’ exhibition opening in Hong Kong, the Intercontinental minibar offers a nice selection to quench your thirst. Art from Richard Prince, Steven Sprouse, and Takashi Murakami still freshly imprinted in your mind, what better way to wind down from the exhibition than to crack open a bottle of wine and take in the harbour view from your room. The exhibition is running until August and definitely worth checking out.
Sheraton Taipei
There is no possibility of waking up with a hangover at the Sheration Taipei.
Grand Hyatt Singapore
Not a bad selection from Grand Hyatt Singapore but again no snacks present.
Dorian Inn Athens
Beware – no salvation from the summer heat of Athens at the Dorian Inn. Bring your own.
V Villa Hua-Hin
After a month of country hopping and minibar raiding, a relaxing weekend closer to home for Koko provides another quality selection from Thailand at V Villa in Hua Hin.
What happens when we die – social networking
Leave a Comment
Angel in mourning
I have been the unfortunate recipient of bad news on two occasions this month – two friends killed in separate road traffic accidents, on two different continents. After pondering over the thoughts of when, how, and why it got me thinking about the impact of social networking under these terrible circumstances.
A flood of condolence messages appear on their pages, all talking to the deceased as if they are still with us, myself included. We imagine their fingers poised over the keyboard to answer back and tell us there has been some kind of terrible mistake. But no – the condolence messages keep coming and slowly the reality sinks in.
Our fond memories of times together are displayed in photo albums, and whimsical conversations on full display, one literally hours before the fateful accident. I even found myself bizarrely thinking of my friends in a cyberspace heaven.
Another friend who was extremely close to one of the deceased, and in actual fact was the first to notify me of the bad news via a telephone call, had always resisted displaying her life online. She has always stood strong from peer pressure to join the social network masses. I found myself in the strange position of relaying news to who in actual fact, was the person who introduced us in the first place – they were friends from childhood, and I just a passive one who only met her a couple of years ago but stayed in touch daily thanks to facebook.
My distraught friend decided she now wanted to join facebook. I pointed out the fact it was pointless as her friend request could not be accepted so I offered my password to enable her to log on and help her grieving process. She was having difficulty in accepting the truth of the matter. I guess it is one of the pitfalls of having an international career at times like these…not being in physical contact with the reality, due to being located on the other side of the world.
Thoughts then switched to the parents and family left behind. Because of the action of another who ensured to share their address via email, they will now really appreciate how loved their daughter was – right across the globe.
So what really happens to our little piece of cyberspace when we pass away? Until now, I have never really thought about it so googled for an answer and read this informative article below:
By Dave Lee – published in The Guardian newspaper in August 2008.
Millions of people log on to social networking sites everyday, all sharing one thing in common: we’re all going to die. What will become of our online lives?
In almost every case, profiles of the dead are left suspended in mid-air, open to unmoderated comments, spam and even pornography. Today on Facebook, one such profile reads: “Andrew has no recent activity.” He died last year.
Looking at his profile, though, you wouldn’t know. You can still request to be his friend, send him a message and, of course, poke him.
Further down his page, there is a close-up of a pair of barely covered breasts. The picture, generated by the third-party application FunWall, was posted without Andrew’s consent. Other pictures and video from applications can include pictures of deformed genitals and assorted sexual acts.
Any wall comments made on Andrew’s profile appear immediately. Fortunately, the comments are all positive. But this isn’t always the case.
MySpace, the biggest social network, has made headlines when profiles of the deceased have been made public. Famously, the case of 17-year-old Joshua Anson Ballard, who in 2005 posted his own suicide note as a MySpace bulletin, revealed just how emotionally charged a remembrance profile can become.
Gone but not logged off
While MySpace users have control over who their friends are, they have less control over what their friends actually do. Phishing attacks have lead to spam comment posts from friends appearing on profiles without either user’s knowledge. Typical posts will invite people to adult sites, or to buy drugs.
Administrators say they treat death on a case-by-case basis, but there are limited options. “MySpace never deletes a profile for inactivity,” the site says. “However, if a family requests that a profile be removed we will honour their request and remove the profile in question.
“MySpace does not allow anyone to assume control of a deceased user’s profile and, as with any profile in our network, the memorial profile must abide by our terms of use.”
So, the option is either to leave a profile untouched, open to unmoderated comments, or to remove it completely.
LinkedIn, a social network for professionals, has a clear policy on user death: at the family’s request, the profile is simply removed. “We first of all offer our condolences and then proceed to close their account so their details are no longer visible to anyone,” says Cristina Hoole of LinkedIn. “Our focus is on making this process very simple for the people left behind and therefore ensure this is dealt with immediately.”
She says that there have been no instances of abuse on this system, but agrees that is probably down to LinkedIn’s more mature user base when compared to other networks.
Perhaps LiveJournal, a veteran of social networking, has it right. For deceased users, a special memorial status has been implemented, which in effect freezes the profile – but leaves it there to be enjoyed without fear of it being hijacked or spammed. The user’s friends can – if the family wishes – continue to read all the existing journal entries.
“This status is typically applied at the request of a family member,” explains Tim Smith of LiveJournal. “The support team then does its best to be reasonably sure that the person is truly deceased. Ordinarily, they get those assurances from simple things such examining the account activity or looking for comments to the journal which would be consistent with the journal owner being deceased.”
But Smith says that this isn’t an actual written policy, rather a process that has gradually emerged over time. “I wish I could point you to a formal, written policy on the site,” he adds. “But this has been a case where the practice from the support team has emerged over time more from a combination of common sense and common decency.”
Perhaps one group that could best handle a users death would be the OpenID project, which aims to provide one single login for various sites. By notifying OpenID of a user death, more than 4,000 sites, including MySpace, could be informed at once.
Online lives – and deaths
Bill Washburn, executive director of OpenID, says such a scheme would depend on the co-operation of each individual site, and believes it will take a high-profile court case to bring the issue to the web’s full attention. “There will be some set of judicial cases that get decided as to what is and isn’t necessary and appropriate,” he says.
He is concerned that the decision of what should be done with our online lives may not even be ours to make.
“We sit in a fairly unequal place with respect to what websites can do and what individuals can do on the net. And that will only get more and more attention. End users don’t fully own their identity.”
Tags: cyberspace, death, facebook, life, social networking, thoughtful debate
Oceans Apart – Macau Employment
Leave a Comment
The former sleepy Portuguese island enclave of Macau, now casino capital of Asia and Special Administrative Region of the People’s Republic of China, has been on a roller coaster ride since opening up the gaming market to international operators in 2001. The explosion of construction that ensued was phenomenal with every Las Vegas developer vying for a piece of the action, and every luxury international hotel and retail brand soon following suit.
The first couple of year’s success encouraged further investment on a bigger scale. And why not – gaming revenue sky rocketed and soon surpassed Las Vegas itself in 2007. Visitor numbers to Macau escalated through the roof, especially from mainland China whose love of gambling is world renowned, hence why it is illegal on the mainland. The biggest worry was having enough human capital to execute the grand development plans of the Cotai Strip. It seemed like anything was possible and if you could imagine it, you could build it.
It wasn’t so much as a bubble bursting, more like a balloon expelling air with a slow farting sound. Unhappy watching neighbouring Guangdong residents abscond to Macau regularly, the powers that be in Beijing soon built a dam to stem the flow of revenue by enforcing a number of visa restrictions to prevent further corruption to its gambling citizens. Next came along the 2008 financial crisis bringing inaccessibility to credit to fund the grand plans.
With more bad news coming today from Las Vegas Sands Corp – announcing approximately 4,000 more lay-offs and their expansion plans of the Cotai Strip put on hold, the cranes are no longer swinging as before. Some projects soldier on though it is difficult to imagine the messy building site views to be as the brochures suggest.
Casino’s have never been a predictable business, often depicted in films as dark seedy underworlds with glamorous gal’s and gangster’s, glitzy stage shows, and all who enter corrupted with the stink of money. Macau has been no exception and is worthy of Brad Pitt, George Clooney and the rest of the Ocean’s team getting together again. Scriptwriters could have a whale of a time with tales of Triads causing terror at casinos in the early days, dealers blackmailing high rollers, government corruption and massive payoffs in land bidding wars.
I can’t help letting my vivid imagination wander with thoughts of disgruntled ex-employees plotting an Ocean’s style heist, targeting some of Macau’s exuberant wealth such as the Stanley Ho diamond aka The Star of Ho. Weighing in at a whopping 218 carats, and on permanent public display at his flagship property The Grand Lisboa, it must be a very tempting target for the desperate unemployed.
Mr. Stanley Ho, the 80 odd year old Casino king of Macau is surely worthy of a major part in my fictitious movie Ocean’s Apart, with his multitude of wives and colourful lifestyle. Throw a little smattering of the 2007 scandal of frozen North Korean assets at the Banco Delta Asia (BDA) into the mix, and you have an international espionage crime thriller in the making. Only in Macau!
In all seriousness, it is a very difficult time indeed for people affected by the economic downturn. Although I have written this article with a humorous slant, it doesn’t mean I do not appreciate the impact it is having on people’s lives. With this in mind, if you are one of those unfortunate people affected, please feel free to contact me to discuss your future. The world is a big place, and opportunities are still out there. If I can assist in any way, I certainly will. After all, it is my business to know current recruitment trends, and where new opportunities are arising. Go to my ‘About me’ page and you will find my contact details.
Tags: casino, construction, employment, Hotel, Las Vegas Sands, Macau, Travel
Heaven and Hell meet in Eden – Dada Bar +Lounge
2 Comments
Dada is the groundwork to abstract art and sound poetry, a starting point for performance art, a prelude to postmodernism, an influence on pop art, a celebration of antiart to be later embraced for anarcho-political uses in the 1960s and the movement that lay the foundation for Surrealism.
-Marc Lowenthal, translator’s introduction to Francis Picabia‘s I Am a Beautiful Monster: Poetry, Prose, And Provocation (MIT Press 2007)
Dada Bar + Lounge is the name of one of the hottest venues in Hong Kong, which opened their doors in March 2009. Classified as a hotel bar, I was intrigued having been to the hotel on a number of occasions over the past two years, watching it go through its transformation. The Luxe Manor is a boutique hotel located on Kimberley Road just a few moments away from the Knutsford Terrace action in Tsim Sha Tsui. With abstract Salvador Dali inspired décor throughout, I knew Dada Bar + Lounge was going to be something surreal and special.
As soon as you step out of the elevator your attention is distracted away from the Hostess greeting you, with sumptuous rustic red and brown colours, clever design using herbs and spices contained in everyday glass-wear, mirrors and lighting perfectly positioned, enhancing and reflecting. In every nook and cranny there is some interesting design detail that catches your eye.
I walked around the main lounge taking in the incredible diversity of fabrics and patterns used in their furnishings. Silver and gold sofas and chairs, a plush deep velvet purple chaise lounge tucked in the corner with a boudoir feel – elaborate and strange, yet somehow it all pulls together creating an amazingly charming, comfy, and slightly naughty but nice ambience. The surrounding walls are of a rich burgundy colour, with purple and red drapes and intricately carved dark wooden paneling.
Paulus, the Asst. Manager gave me a tour of the themed private dining rooms – Heaven, Hell and Eden. Heaven, as the name suggests, is a light airy dining room with audio visual effects to create the feeling of dappled sunlight. With silver chairs and all things pure and heavenly white, I was keen to move on to the next room.
Eden greets you with an entrance of peacock feathers and flowers, and the circular dining table sits in the centre of what resembles a garden gazebo, with flowery foliage surrounding you. For any hay fever sufferers out there, don’t panic, the flowers are all cleverly made with fabrics and plastics in a very tasteful way.
Hell bound, I move on to check out what I instinctively know is going to be my favourite. The floor into the room is not that dissimilar to a lava lamp liquid effect, creating a yellowish orange glow like that of a lava flow. The room is dark and satanic in nature with an imposing black shiny dining table dominating. You have the option to draw back the black drapes to reveal the open kitchen and watch the chefs create their culinary magic. Hell’s Kitchen.
Back in the main lounge I meet the talented Mixologist who promises me he has a few surprises up his sleeve for the cocktail menu. Bringing molecular technology into mixology I am looking forward to sampling some more of his creations which will change with the cycle of seasonal fruits available. You also have an extensive champagne and wine selection of around two hundred to choose from.
I was sipping on my mojito infused with lemongrass and ginger looking up at the leafy chandeliers, before noticing the décor around the circular bar itself – metallic mythical figures leaping from either side of my bar stool, like Pegasus the winged horse and Minotaur the bull. Dada Bar + Lounge is packed full of interesting surprises.
I briefly meet The Howard McCrary Trio Jazz Band before they take to the stage. The night was young at 8 p.m. and the band warmed up gently as I allowed myself to relax and sink into one of the sumptuous armchairs. Fun, quirky, insane, absurd, weird, crazy, surreal, I liked it a lot. As they say ‘the devil is in the detail’ and this place has plenty.
Dada Bar + Lounge has pulled together the entire concept of the hotel and finally The Luxe Manor feels complete. Hong Kongers love nothing more than themed parties and getting dressed up, and this place is perfect to host such events. It will certainly help fill the void of jazz venues in Hong Kong.
Tags: Dada Bar, food, food and beverage, Hong Kong, Hotel, jazz, knutsford terrace, Luxe Manor, nightlife
HOFEX a hit despite H1N1 fears in Hong Kong
2 Comments
HOFEX, a biennial event geared toward the hospitality industry, had over 1,800 exhibitors from across the globe, with representation from 41 national groups this year – all looking to penetrate the vast Hong Kong and mainland China market. With an estimated 30,000 buyers in attendance, browsing products ranging from food and beverage, to equipment and supplies, spread across 44,000 sq metres of exhibition space, there was plenty to keep you occupied.
With four packed days of events, HOFEX proved as popular as ever. The trade show opened its doors for its 13th edition at the Hong Kong Convention & Exhibition Centre (HKCEC) on Wednesday 6th May. Despite H1N1 fears just around the corner at The Metropark Hotel in Wan Chai, where over three hundred hotel guests and staff were put under quarantine a week earlier, HKCEC and HOFEX organisers pulled out all the stops to make it a safe and happy environment.
As usual the Hong Kong Chef’s Association organised an incredible timetable of events, ranging from the Hong Kong International Culinary Challenge, to live bakery and ice-carving competitions, all judged by some of the world’s top chefs from across the Asia-Pacific region.
Beverages
There was plenty of drink options to start off the day, ranging from premium coffee brands such as Illy from Italy, and various teas from across the region. Being an avid coffee lover, I have always struggled to get to grips with the healthier green teas of Asia. I am happy to report I finally found a solution with a Taiwanese product from Energy Supply Station – an instant cranberry Arabian jasmine green tea in granule form, quick and easy, hot or cold.
On level three, the Hong Kong Bar Tenders Association brought together some of the best mixologists in the world to compete in classic cocktail competitions, and everyone’s favourite, the entertaining Flairing event. With juggling skills fit for a circus, there were bottles flying in the air, synced together with thumping bass-lines of hip hop and techno. The international panel of judges and onlooking crowd clapped and cheered the contestants on, and the event was one of the highlights of HOFEX.
Close to the action, a beer exhibition making its debut in Hong Kong was Furstenberg from the Black Forest in Germany. Thirst quenching, clean, with a bitter-sweet hoppy flavour, and a long dry finish, I am looking forward to seeing this in Hong Kong’s many bars and nightclubs. It’s strategic location next to the flairing event, ensured the crowd was in a party mood, and appeared to go down very well with delegates – not surprising with a 4.8% alcohol volume.
In the Sommeliers corner, there were plenty of new and old world wines showcasing for the first time in Asia-Pacific. For me, the most outstanding whites came from New Zealand – the Monowai 2007 Chardonnay from the Hawke’s Bay region, and an organic wine from the Richmond Plains vineyard of Nelson produced a beautiful 2008 Sauvignon Blanc – definitely worth checking out, and ideal for sipping on a warm sunny day – perfect for the balmy climate in Hong Kong where the sun shone brightly for the entire 4 days. Moving onto the reds, I stayed in Hawke’s Bay with Bridge Pa vineyard’s portfolio, producing a beautiful selection of Syrah wines – especially the 2007 Reserve Syrah, with a supple and intense Rhone style palate, featuring berries, black cracked pepper, tobacco, and an earthy undertone.
The “Best of the Show” winners of the Hong Kong International Wine Challenge 2009 were as follows:
Riesling – 2008 Torlesse Riesling from Waipara, New Zealand – (exhibitor – Wines Connection Limited)
Chardonnay – 2004 Olsen Wines Big Fella Victoria Chardonnay from Australia – (exhibitor – Vin888 Pty Ltd – Olsen Wines Victoria)
Merlot – 2005 Kiona Merlot from USA – (exhibitor – Cottage Vineyards International Ltd)
Shiraz – 2007 Bridge Pa Vineyard Ltd, Reserve Syrah from New Zealand – (exhibitor – At Style International Ltd – Bridge Pa Vineyard Ltd)
Dessert Wine – 2007 Coteaux du Layon Les Rouannieres 2007 Chateau Pierre Bise from France (exhibitor – Caudalie Limited)
Sichuanese Cuisine – 2008 Torlesse Gewurztraminer from Waipara, New Zealand (exhibitor – Wines Connection Limited)
Shanghainese Cuisine – 2005 Kiona, Lemberger from USA (exhibitor – Cottage Vineyards Ltd)
Cantonese Cuisine – (No vintage) Muratori Villa Crespia Miolo from Italy (exhibitor – Cantina Privata)
Food Products
My favourite new food product to Asia has to be the herbs, spices, and mustard’s produced by Whittingtons of Perth, Western Australia. I was attracted to the counter by the aroma of sausages sizzling in Chef Ernest Battimiello’s frying pan. Cooked in a beer mustard, the taste was absolutely divine, and had me returning to his stall time and time again to sample more of his creations. Using his extensive range, including gourmet Australian red wine mustard, chilli-mustard, premium milled pepper, natural rum essence, and lemon essence, to name but a few, I will definitely seek out these products when they hit the shelves.
Lorence & Company, the Italian fine food and wine specialists had a very busy corner with the sheer mention of truffles. With a variety of products ranging from a white truffle honey from La Rustichella, to truffle balsamic cream from Modena. The most popular was the black truffle pate which had people almost fighting to get to the jar.
The 2008 Beijing Olympic Games food supplier JiLin ZhengFang Agriculture & Animal Husbandry Co, with French partnership and international accreditation, have managed to produce an interesting and delicately flavoured Foie Gras, farmed from the Baishan snow goose. An excellent example of East/West collaboration.
Making its debut at HOFEX, there was a dedicated N.O.W. (natural, organic, well-being) section, with some incredibly interesting product lines. From Lee Fish Asia PTE. Ltd of Singapore, part of the Lee Fish Group originating from New Zealand, this group is an avid supporter of sustainable fishing.
I was particularly taken by some sushi rolls (containing no fish) made from a packet cereal called Grass Farm mixed organic grain from Korea. These delicate rolls were absolutely delicious, and a likely big hit with all vegetarians out there.
Finishing off with dessert, I watched with fascination the Belgian Chocolatier hard at work. The chocolate fountain first attracted my attention, before I spotted their display of chocolate high heeled shoes, a guaranteed winning combination for any lady.
After four days of walking in heels, I took full advantage of the N.O.W. wellbeing section to relieve the aches and pains, and even managed to bag myself some free samples of Alcohol Doctor Hangover Tea from Korea to assist my liver after four days of constant tasting. With so many excellent quality wines, it was too difficult to bring myself to use the spittoons, and as I sit here and write this blog, my eyes are still bleary and bloodshot, and my tummy contentedly full. Thankfully HOFEX is only every two years, otherwise I fear my next stop would be the Betty Ford clinic for some detoxification.
Tags: Asia, chef, convention, event, exhibition, food, food and beverage, H1N1, HOFEX, Hong Kong, Hospitality, Hotel, mixologist, mixology, Travel, wine
Sichuan-Tibet Highway, China
5 Comments
Sichuan Province - home to Shangri-la
Entering Tibet is the last thing on my mind whilst exploring the Sichuan-Tibet highway. I am intrigued by how a border drawn on a map cutting across the eastern corner of the Tibetan plateau, also known as Kham, impacts on culture in this remote mountainous region of Sichuan, China. Political tensions still flare up occasionally, encounters with mile long convoys of Army vehicles are common, yet everyday life is relatively peaceful and predominately very Tibetan once past the town of Kangding, the historical trade centre for centuries between Tibetan and Chinese cultures.
In Kangding, the Sichuan-Tibet highway splits off in two directions, north and south. I set my mind on taking the more arduous and less travelled Northern Sichuan-Tibet highway as far as Dege, the beautiful border town now acting as gatekeeper to Tibet proper. My motivation to go north is the challenge of the journey itself; passing through the beautiful Tagong Grasslands, up into the clouds crossing over the Chola Mountains at Tro La Pass, climbing to an altitude of nearly 4500M above sea level. Altitude sickness is a real threat here, and if that doesn’t get you, the terror of the bus ride skidding along the skinny icy dirt track will.
A memorable experience on the early section of road, just prior to the momentous task of climbing up the Chola Mountains, is a small one street town in between Ganzi and Dege called Manigango, or Mangy-gunk-hole as I lovingly nickname it. The town comprises of a line of dusty shops and houses, dogs salivating over hanging chunks of yak meat drying in the blinding high altitude sun, and one modern building which I later find out to be a school. Just outside the town is a beautiful holy lake covered in prayer flags and rock carvings, making it a worthy stopover for a couple of nights.
On alighting from the decrepit wheezing bus I am immediately surrounded by old women selling trinkets, snotty nosed kids, dogs, dust, and chaos. I manage to flee with an old lady who offers me a place to sleep, gesturing with her hands to her face in an angled prayer-like posture. I gladly accept and the local crowd is supportive to the extent they allow me to escape the scrum.
After a couple of days spent in town waiting for the next bus to pass by, I am acclimatized enough to take on the Tro La Pass to Dege. It is a truly stunningly beautiful, and scary as hell road trip which takes around five hours of constant ascent to the highest point of around 4500M, where a monk starts chanting and throwing pieces of paper carrying prayers out of the window. The bus finally descends coughing and spluttering in sympathy with passengers to Dege, shattered nerves and pounding headache finally alleviating at a more reasonable 3800M.
Dege is a picturesque border town famous for its printing lamasery containing Buddhist scriptures and printing blocks dating back to the 18th Century, including A History of Indian Buddhism, the only surviving copy in the world. Handed glossy printed literature in English and Chinese on entry, it feels strangely out of place considering the surroundings.
An old man dressed in an over sized PRC Army coat rushes me through the ‘tour’. I slow down when possible to talk to men hand printing prayer flags, with decades of red dye staining their fingers. Every nook and cranny of the lamasery is ornately decorated, and the roof offers breathtaking views of the surrounding mountains. Shooed on by the old guard again, I leave and sit opposite watching half a dozen Tibetan people swirl their prayer wheels whilst circumnavigating the lamasery, their faces gnarly and weathered, yet radiating warmth and enlightenment.
The Northern Sichuan-Tibet highway certainly lives up to its reputation of being one of the most treacherous, yet stunningly beautiful roads in the world. Dangerous it was, but not half as dangerous as the shortcut I persuade a monk in a van to take me on back in the town of Ganzi, where I had doubled back to explore deeper into Sichuan.
After a day of pounding the streets talking to drivers of all manner of transport, including minibus, taxi, tractor, horse, and a nice expensive 4 wheel drive, I was thwarted at every turn. The thought of having to backtrack another twelve hours to Tagong really didn’t inspire me. Frustrated and hungry I descend onto a noodle shop where I order a spicy bowl of La Mein, and I am soon joined by a monk who offers to take me to Litang in his van.
At the start of the journey there is an empty guard post with a flimsy bamboo pole restricting entrance. The dirt track follows the path of the river which has cut a gorge through the mountains like a knife through butter. The surrounding scenery is absolutely mind-blowing with the gushing waters of the Yalong River to my right and a sheer rock face to my left, so steep you can’t see the sky.
We come across a couple of houses scattered through the lower valley where horseback is the only visible mode of transport for the occupants. Glimpses of people are rare and thoroughly rewarding when they occur. The look on their rosy cheeked faces upon the sight of a foreign woman sitting in the back of a minivan smiling, or should I say more like a frozen grimace of terror in the shape of a smile? Its funny how you react to fear; mine an uncontrollable fit of laughter, and the monks answer was to constantly chant his prayer to the heavenly gods above.
We finally make it out of the steep gorge and we start to slowly climb upward, the gradient becoming steeper to the extent it feels like the van is going to roll back. Then suddenly the road finally levels out and the Tibetan Plateau announces itself with massive blue azure sky.
My brave monk escort shows signs of altitude sickness, having difficulty in seeing the road with a blinding headache pounding in his skull constantly. We pull over and he drinks some local herbal medicine from a phial tucked away in the ripples of his red robes. After resting his head he feels well enough to continue on with the journey, fully aware we have to get to Litang before night and freezing temperatures descend.
The closer we get to Litang, the more sky burial sites we pass, where flesh and bone is mashed and returned to the universe of life, with dark shadows cast by the massive wingspan of vultures circling above. It has been an incredible shortcut to finally reach my destination, the famed birthplace of the 7th and 10th Dala Lamas.
Note: this journey was undertaken before the devastating Sichuan earthquake. My reason for posting now is as a tribute to the approaching anniversary, and to inspire people to explore and encourage tourism back to the region.
There was an old Hakka Lady
1 Comment
Economic downturn, flu pandemics, uncertainty about the future, there is nothing better to clear the head than to take a long walk in the park, well Lantau Island, Hong Kong in my case, as you are almost guaranteed relative solitude. Clarity of thought, putting things into perspective, and appreciation of the beautiful natural surroundings – a million miles away from the tension and self induced stress of life in Central. The momentum of moving forward stimulates the mind in such a positive way.
I was running a little later than usual to start a hike so I opted for my favourite walking trail in Lantau, following the coastline along from Mui Wo Pier Road to the Chi Ma Wan peninsula, and then finally descend to Pui O village for a swim.
Once past the cement factory and sewage works the trail starts to give you a little taste of what’s to come, the concrete path stops and a natural trail begins, dappled sunlight filtering through the forest, butterflies flitting haphazardly, and dragonflies darting. It’s a pretty easy ramble though you have to carry plenty of water, long and steady with some of the best coastline in Hong Kong to take your mind away from any troubles.
Having done this walk many times I have witnessed the sudden changes, which both alarms and intrigues me. I soon came across the first little deserted sandy beach, a nice spot to chat with the local fishermen and breathe some fresh sea air into the lungs in preparation for the walk ahead. The beach, as beautiful as it is, has always been affected with tidal litter, a stark reminder of the fact you are in close proximity to one of the most densely populated places on the planet. It must have been a stunning little beach in its heyday, before the polystyrene and plastic hell started to plague and pollute.
Today the beach was different? There were a couple of solid looking bridges for mini-diggers to cross over the small stream. I was a little confused, rocks to the left had vanished and a new concrete footpath appeared in their place, the same rocks the old fishermen used as their pedestal. A new mains water pipe project encroached out of the trail like a big fat giant centipede, concrete legs and long circular body straddling high above the ground to waist height.
I was soon greeted by the work crew so I smiled and said hello. We exchanged words in our own language, accompanied with hand signals, laughing and smiling we continued on with our own business, myself left wondering about whether we were laughing over the same thing? I must be quite an amusing distraction from a hard day’s work, Berghaus boots and backpack, little shorts and bikini top!
The newly constructed path and railings made me feel like I was walking along an airport escalator, though it’s kind of forgivable as you snake through some stunning hillside scenery. I was wondering why the pipeline had to be so tall and ugly and the railings so intrusive….there had to be a geological reason I tried to surmise?
My journey continued, thoughts pondering on whether something was going to be built on these little hidden treasures of Hong Kong, until I came to the bay I always refer to as ‘The little old Hakka lady’s beach’. I have always been fascinated about finding out her story, an enigma offering tantalizing glimpses every now and again, with her loyal dog always quietly sitting and watching her shack-like house on the beach. The dog was a sure sign she was home.
Today, her house was still standing solidly flimsy, but no sign of the old Hakka lady or her dog. Red slippers were waiting outside, next to a soggy mulch of what was once a newspaper lay next to them by the doorstep. I looked around the surrounding area and struggled to recognise it. The trail was now completely concreted, with more pipelines sticking out, and the stream virtually gone.
Up on higher ground further along the coastal trail I heard a strange out of tune melody carrying up from the sea below. It was turning out to be a very strange but interesting walk today. I clambered out onto some rocks and a recognizable sound of an outboard engine mixed into the music the closer I got to the edge. I watched with fascination, some local fishermen steering their small boat around in a circle, one sat in the front drumming his tune while the others tended the nets, fishing the old fashioned way.
From the distance a monstrous bright red fishing trawler bullishly appeared on the scene, theft on its mind, nets widely spread from its arachnid-like spindling legs, and a filthy snail trail of brown sludge in its wake. Little guy versus big guy facing off for a small haul, and thankfully the little guys were faster and won this round. It put a smile on my face, and with a victorious punch in the air I clambered back down to the trail path. My mind immediately switched back and I thought about the little old lady’s struggle, constantly fighting against other people’s rubbish washing up on the beach, riding out typhoons, and quite possibly marauding Mandarin pirates back in her day?
Shap Long has some beautiful moments when the tide is in, a long curvaceous white sandy bay with a beautiful mountain backdrop. On a bad day when the tide is out there are times when crows fly, scavenging off the rubbish and disturbing the tranquility with their loud voices – Kaw Kaw. You can usually tell what kind of experience you will have by the aroma in the air on the approach.
Behind the Chi Ma Wan Women’s Prison and over the reservoir it’s all natural trails, concrete disappears and it is by far the best part of the entire walk. That slightly crunchy underfoot feeling that gives you a strange pleasure for some reason, rocky outcrops, overhanging trees, forested areas offering very welcome shade. Taking the long way round and adding on two hours around the peninsula is definitely worth it, however if you are getting tired and time is not on your side, you can take the trail up to the right toward Lung Mei, which only takes fifteen minutes.
I headed toward Pui O village where there’s a beach, restaurants, and buses back to Mui Wo. Having walked for about five hours I was ready for a swim and refreshments. Passing the old Tin Hau temple dating back to 1799, dedicated to the goddess of the sea who is obviously feeling neglected, I am greeted by a herd of feral water buffalo wallowing in the muddy flats of an estuary. Following its course I see mudskippers and crab scurrying along, pursued by a plethora of hungry wading birds.
After a quick dip in the slightly oily waters of Pui O beach, I was invited over to a BBQ with some locals enjoying a weekend of camping. We discussed the so called beautification of nature, which is the strange act of concreting trails, while eating lots of shrimp and fish balls on sticks, washed down with a couple of cold beers. When contentedly full and rested, I said goodbye to my friendly hosts.
A bus ride then ferry, and forty minutes later I was back in the heart of Central, neon lights, glitzy nightlife, and the noise pollution of millions of Hong Kongers heading out for a very different kind of wildlife of their own. I think back to the rest of my walk, abandoned villages, rubbish, the fishermen’s struggle, and of course wonder about the fate of the little old Hakka lady and her dog that lived in a house by the sea.
Somewhere under the SkyTrain
Leave a Comment
Somewhere Under the Skytrain
Sukhumvit Soi 38 has always been a long time favourite street food zone for affluent Thai people who reside in this wealthy suburb of Bangkok. When fed up with fine dining and attending new restaurant launches, this is where locals like to get back to their roots and feast on food just like Granny used to make.
OK, you probably wont actually see people wearing Chanel sitting around a fold away table, not unless it is the early hours of the morning and a munchies attack has occurred on the way home from the club. I can guarantee you their drivers make the run to collect a multitude of plastic bags containing dishes picked up at various stalls – Thai style take-away, and it is delicious.
As you descend the steps of Thong Lor Skytrain exit 4, the strange aromas hit you, some not so pleasant for a western nose. Having already learned the lesson of ‘Don’t ask, just eat’, I pull up a red plastic stool near the Kuey Jub stall and am absolutely flabbergasted when Mr. Chai appears through steamy air and greets me like a long lost friend – “Sawat Dee Kap. You not be here for long time. You like soup pork, pork skin, egg, no inside”. The last time I came here for Kuey Jub was over five years ago and he is 100% correct on my order. Kuey Jub is more of a Chinese influenced soup dish with flat white noodle squares what curl up in the steaming broth, topped with crispy pork skin, and egg preserved in soy, the flavour is incredible.
Drifting smoke attracts my attention to one of the BBQ stalls across the road. I select a fish and place it over hot coals and ask the vendor if she can make a Nam Chim dip with garlic, lime juice, and three chilli’s only. After picking and dipping the salted crispy fish bursting with flavour, there is nothing better to cool the palette than with a thirst quenching ice cold coconut milk.
It takes a lot of effort to gain a license for operation as a vendor here, and you have to prove you are worth your salt. A couple of stalls proudly announce their successes in various cooking competitions, having fought off competition from all over Bangkok to adorn such signs. Considering 98% of customers are Thai, it is not some tacky marketing scam to attract tourists.
Hygiene is also of a very high standard making it an ideal place to indulge in street food in a safe and authentic environment, unlike the soulless food courts in shopping centres, which are becoming more popular these days.
My curiosity leads me to approach a couple of Farang (foreigners) I spot across the way eating Phad Thai. I ask how they found out about this place, curious as to whether it has been published in some guide books recently. They tell me their sister works in Bangkok and recommended they come. Word of mouth has been strong since my last visit and there is a 40% increase in vendor numbers, all carefully selected for their specialist dishes.
Dessert is just a stall away and I watch with wonderment as to the skill required to make Foythong and Thongyod, consisting of egg yolk fried in oil and dipped in syrup. The technique has taken the vendor years of practice ,flicking the yolk into hot oil whilst maintaining a consistent size. Her movement and timing is precise, and the taste is surprisingly un-eggy, a good sign of quality I am assured.
Being a big fan of Khao Niew (sticky rice), I move onto the next stall to indulge in my favourite, mango and sticky rice. The secret is in the warm coconut milk provided. With just the right sweetness to compliment the fresh mango, combined with the texture of Khao Niew, this simple dish is absolutely perfect, leaving you with a warm fuzzy feeling of contentedness, tummy so full I feel like lying down on the pavement and snoozing with the stray Soi (street) dogs.
Tags: Bangkok, cuisine, eating out, food and beverage, Skytrain, street food, Thai cuisine, Thailand, Travel
