Unbelievable

Take a look a this photo. I shot it two days ago on September 19th. Can you believe it?
I went with my friend to a bar situated on the 1st floor (2nd floor for our Japanese readers) of a central Dublin hotel. Walking up the stairs, there in front of you is a great, big, decorated Christmas tree... in the middle of September.
I mean, I know the hotel wants to advertize itself as a venue for Christmas parties, but come on!

I went to a masked party

In this photo we're getting the Luas (tram) to go to the masked party. We actually went the whole journey in costume. It was pretty funny. What was funnier was arriving at this nightclub expecting everyone to be wearing masks, only to discover we were practically the only ones who bothered. P.S. K., please note I'm wearing the scarf you so kindly gave me... in summertime!

Operaza no kaijin

I had to put up this photo. During the night, I swapped masks. You can see this is a brilliant Phantom of the Opera style effort. One of my friends, O., in Japan was completely obessed with 'Operaza no kaijin' (The Phantom of the Opera). This was my tribute to her.

So typical

I went to the opera last night in our National Concert Hall. I made a real effort getting ready. I put on a formal shirt, a jacket, the whole lot. I left the house feeling pretty cool, pretty confident, pretty slick.
Five minutes later I stepped in dog poo!
I bet that sort of thing never happens to James Bond.

Afternoon tea

As I said, Ireland's history is one of successive invasion. Each new wave leaves behind their mark. The Vikings left their ship-building, the British, afternoon tea.
My sis and I stopped in for some tea and scones during a weekend shopping trip in town. The service was great: real linen napkins, real silver service, wait staff in white gloves, the lot!
Well to tell the entire truth, my sister enjoyed the traditional, refined refreshment while I went for the more iron-rich energy drink that is a fine pint of Guinness. Just looking at the photo of it on the table there is making me thirsty. I'm such an alco! As we say here in Ireland, "There's eatin' and drinkin' in it.
It was simple and spontaneous, but one of the happiest moments I've had since I've been back.

World's largest replica Viking ship

I headed into the National Museum to check out the Sea Stallion, pictured above. They found the original ship (Skuldelev 2) in Denmark in the 60s. With analysis of the rings in the wooden planks of the remains, they were able to determine that this boat had been made in Dublin in 1042.
Ireland's history is one of successive invasion. At that time the Vikings were in the ascendant and Dublin (Dyflin) was the major trading centre of the Western Viking World. It's clear from this find that the Vikings who settled in Ireland brought their skills with them. The focus was on making ships that were light, maneuverable and capable of transporting a lot of people across the open sea. All the better for plundering our poor monasteries (remember we were the Island of Saints and Scholars at the time). I keed, I keed!
The Scandinavian method at the time was clinker-building. This involves making a shell of overlapping planks of wood. Then, wool is soaked in tar and stuffed in the gaps to make shell watertight. More supporting planks are added to the inside of the structure. Then the ship's frame is held together with strong nails.
The Danish team of archaeologists strictly followed these ship-building techniques in constructing the replica. It took about four years, from 2000-2004. They were so confident in their work that they felt able to sail it all the way from Roskilde to Dublin. And it'll be going back again soon.
For those of you who enjoy statistics: it's made of oak, it's 30 metres long and 3.8 metres wide, it uses 60 oars and could carry 60-70 people.

A prize to whoever can tell me what part of the ship this was

Sunset over the Customs House, Dublin

Okay, so we're back to winter again today. But for the last few days we have finally had some summer here in Dublin. I mean walk-home-in-a-t-shirt-at-midnight good weather!
My friends and I captured this beautiful sunset on the way to a fantastic dinner in my favourite restaurant in Dublin. It's called Siam Thai, for those of you interested. It does the best green curry this side of Bangkok.
Just look at the beautiful rays of sunshine passing through clouds above one of the city's main landmarks (The Customs House).
The image really represented our mood at the time. Because of the weather we'd been sitting on the terrace of a wine bar down at the rennovated docklands enjoying chat, a nice Riesling, and general good times.
Life back in Ireland is not so bad.

Sand Sculptures

These pictures were taken in the courtyard of Dublin Castle. I used to have a summer job as a tour guide there so I have a great affinity for the place.
This exhibition is of sculptures created entirely out of sand, taking inspiration from some of Ireland's most famous cultural icons.
The photo above is Jonathan Swift imagined as his most famous creation, Gulliver. I really like it.

I think it's cool that the sculptor chose to make two heads for Samuel Beckett. Perhaps it's to signify that he was equally fluent in both French and English and is celebrated by both traditions.

A prize to anyone who can name all the famous faces featured here.

Happy Times

I got into trouble with my dad for writing such negative things about Dublin there the last time. So I'm going to put up photos of some of the (many) happy times I've had since I've been back home.

This picture was taken in the gardens of the Modern Art Museum in Dublin. The sun was splitting the trees the day we visited. It was like 25 degrees. A beautiful day. We had a nice lunch in the cafe, enjoyed some excellent art, especially some recently acquired installations by young up-and-coming artists, and generally had a very nice time. Best of all, because it's a national gallery there is no entry charge. Sure, we pay really high taxes here in Ireland, but we also get some nice benefits.

The Botanics

I'm lucky that my home is just a stone's throw from the National Botanical Gardens. It's a great place to take a walk. They have such a variety of environments: rose gardens, formal french gardens, Japanese-style gardens, woodland, wild flower pastures, hothouses, rockgardens, an interpetive centre... And again, it's all free. It's where I go to think.

Summer at the beach in Dublin

You would be forgiven for thinking that photos of the beach in Dublin in summer are not happy ones. But you'd be wrong.
Even though it was only 12 degrees and I was forced to wear a down jacket and scarf, I still had a great bike ride along the seafront.
I usually don't like bicycles, but I got an opportunity to borrow my sister's wheels for a few hours and really enjoyed the brisk sea air.
Bear in mind too that this beach is in the city, so you can't expect paradise. Plus, I think it has a kind of grey beauty to it.

Dublin is not a safe place

I've only been back a short time but it's clear to me that Dublin is not a safe city. Every time I go into the centre of the city I witness criminal activity. One good point is that each time the Gardai (Irish Police Force) have responded really quickly, if a little overconfidently.
None the less, the situation is scary and quite an adjustment for someone who has gotten used to the relative safety of Japan.
It's becoming a joke. My friends are starting to call me 'The Vortex of Doom.' These terrible things only seem to happen when I'm around. I've already seen more crazy 'welcome home' moments than my friends have seen in years. People don't want to go into town with me:
I've had street brawlers crashing into the back of my taxi and being bundled off by gardai who came out of nowhere in an unmarked police car.
I've had a police car screaming up the street in the wrong direction, blocking a city bus, and seven officers piling on to arrest one poor young guy (I say poor because it turned out the gardai had the wrong bus!)
I've even seen a young foreign man chasing after someone full speed through the city streets, shouting "Stop! Thief!" It was just like a scene out of a movie.
Overall this is not a good first impression, and I'd be quite reluctant to recommend Dublin as a holiday destination. In the mean time I'll just have to toughen myself up. Do you think yoga can be used as a form of self-defense? Maybe I could do the tree pose, blend into the background, and wait for a chance to escape to safety.

My favourite cartoon

When I was in Vienna I visited the Jewish Museum. I highly recommend it. It's not a big place, but I spent about two hours going through some very detailed exhibits.
One of these was an exhibition of the work of Paul Peter Porges, an Austrian cartoonist who emigrated to the States and became famous for his contributions to Mad Magazine. Check his work out, if you get the chance.
I love the way cartoonists can condense sophisticated humour to a one-cell drawing. It's so multi-layered. So much so that sometimes I can't even really explain why I find the image so funny.
That is the case with the cartoon above. I cut it out of a magazine when I lived in France (about a million years ago) and have kept it in my wallet ever since. Some people keep pictures of their family or dogs or something. I keep rude paper clippings. What does that tell you about me?
I find it hilarious. I think it's the woman's expression and the finger coming to her lip. Enjoy!

The Finish Line

I finally finished my trip - eight countries and a whole lot of memories later. I'm now trying to start a whole new life. It's odd and a little hard.
I'm really excited about starting my studies - I've already bought a lot of textbooks and am making headway into the reading. It's so interesting but challenging. Going back to school full-time is going to be a major adjustment - especially as I'm probably going to be older than most of the professors.
The hardest part is trying to find a part-time job. If I wanted full-time work, I'd be in a job now. But to find a way of making money that fits around my university schedule is proving to be more difficult than I had anticipated. I've even registered with a movie extras agency. More on that in the future, perhaps.
The picture above was my favourite work in the Belvedere gallery in Vienna. It's 'Judith' by Gustav Klimt.
I know 'The Kiss' is a way more famous piece but I don't like it. I find it violent and unsettling. In 'The Kiss,' I feel the woman is turning away from the man's embrace, refusing his advances. She seems to be kneeling close to an edge, her feet already dangling precariously. The more he advances, the more at risk of falling she becomes. It's an odd painting. I don't see why so many people think of it as the epitome of romance.
Of course, 'Judith' is a very dark piece, too. I'm fascinated by Klimt's composition. Your eye is drawn almost entirely to Judith's haughty, self-satisfied expression. What is she so pleased with herself for? Her beauty? Her golden robes? Her necklace? And then, down in the dark corner you finally notice she's holding a severed head. Fabulous. I'm also interested in how he made her look really quite hard, very tough, but completely feminine. Isn't it just the best picture?
I had also intended to talk about a picture 'Dusk' by Carl Moll. But in looking for an image to post on the net, I found out that the artist was a fanatical Nazi sympathiser. It changed my whole view of the work. I'm no psychologist, but if I were I'd love to study how our reactions to art can be affected by what we know of the artist. If I'd known nothing of his life, I would have talked about a soft, calm, enigmatic painting. But now that I know about his private history, I can't look at the work in the same light. Any amatuer pyschologists out there, please discuss.

Happiness is a prism

Please excuse me but I'm going to get all 'American Beauty,' plastic-bag-dancing-in-the-wind on you for a minute.
In Vienna I have seen majestic, palatial architecture. Each building a masterpiece.
But do you know what took my breathaway on my walk this morning? A simple rainbow.
I was passing through a shady corner of a small city park. It was still early so the sprinklers were going. The sun shone through the trees and all at once caught the water in the air.
This simple trick of the light gave me more pleasure, more wonder, and will stay with me longer than all the fine buildings in the world.

P.S. I just like this photo.

The Morning Sun and Kaiser Franz Josef I

P.P.S. I feel sorry for the people living here

It must be hard: 'Where do you live?' 'Oh, just there on the corner of Dumb Ass Street.'
Is that anywhere near Smart Bunny Drive (a little reference for all you Far Side fans).

I've reached Vienna, the last stop on my tour

Well, I've reached the last stop on my tour. After Vienna it's back to a life of full-time study. I'm scared but excited.Jeepers creepers but Vienna is hot. I've only been here two days but each afternoon has tipped 37 degrees. I was not expecting this. I thought I'd need a jacket. It's making for some hardcore sightseeing.Here is a beautiful sunset over the city that I caught from my room the first night. I'm obsessed with clouds and the sky, as I have talked about here before.

Coffee and cake

My parents came to Austria on their honeymoon. All they did was eat cakes. To honour them, I went to one of Vienna's most famous cafes, Cafe Landtmann. I got a great seat on the terrace overlooking the fine Burg Theater. The building shone pure white against the blue, cloudless sky. A friendly, polite waiter (Paris, take note!) brought me the house specialty chocolate torte and a coffee. The cake was delicious - not too sweet, not too heavy, and just the right size portion to go with my rich Austrian coffee.
To give you an idea of what bad value parts of Turkey were, what I enjoyed in this famous Viennese institution was just one euro more expensive than a bad coffee drunk at a plastic table under a Coca Cola parasol in Istanbul! But I'm not bitter...

The Upper Belvedere Gallery

Vienna is said to be a city of cafes and culture. I would change that to a city of readers and drinkers. There are bookshops (especially secondhand bookshops) everywhere. And as for the drinking, it's massive. Though I've been here on working days the actual streets seem almost deserted. On the other hand, the terraces of the many, many cafes are thronging. It's a nice way to live. But I saw someone order a beer at 8.30am this morning and no-one (but me) batted an eye.
I love the trams here. Some are really old school - no aircon, clanky bell, original wood interior. The transport system is excellent. As a tourist you can get the Vienna card which offers unlimited travel for three days at a very reasonable price. Riding the buses, trams and trains seems to be under the honour system: You buy a ticket and validate it yourself, but there are no gates or turnstiles. In theory, you could travel without paying (like my poor aunts unknowingly did in Prague and nearly got arrested!). I haven't seen a single ticket check.
The Belvedere gallery above is one of the best I have ever been to - not too big or intimidating, lots of great art, and a barqoue setting that you think will be distracting but in fact houses the works very well. I have tonnes I want to say about some of the pieces but I might leave that for another time.

Adalar - The Islands

I've just spent the last few days on islands in the Marmara Sea where the main form of transportation is horse and cart. They only allow motorised vehicles for the emergecy services and refuse collectors. It was quite an expereience. I felt very cut off and really relaxed. But I was surprised at how expensive some of the islands were. Buyuk Ada (one of the places I visited) is an island where many rich retired Istanbul residents have a weekend home. 6 euro for a coffee - are you kidding me? That's worse than Tokyo, man!But it was a real chance for me to slow down and reflect on the wonderful trip I've had and how much I've experienced and learned.The best thing about the island for me (apart from the weather) was the architecture. It was just one amazing white clapboard early 19th century villa after another. Some of them were in pristine condition. Others were greying and wrinking like their owners. I'd say the average age of the island inhabitants was well into the sixites. But sure I fit in better with these people than a group of twentysomethings on Ibiza.

The Splendid Palace Hotel

A very grand name for a less than grand place. My hotel is the white building with the two silvery domes. It dates back to 1908 and surely was worthy of its title all those years ago.
Now it has the feeling of decaying grandeur - all the original fixtures and fittings but a bit worn around the edges. A bit like the guests really. I was easily the youngest staying there by a long shot.
It's the sort of place where you imagine Agatha Christie holed up to be inpsired and write one of her novels of intrigue under an Ottoman sun.
It was really very cool. Bad value when you think of what you actually get for the price. But I guess I was happy to pay a premium for all the old world charm and nostalgia I enjoyed.

All goods are delivered to the islands (Adalar) by boat are then distributed by horse and cart. There are horses everywhere on Buyuk Ada. It makes it all very quaint. You feel like you're stepping back in time. But horses (and their inevitable waste) are a little too fragrant for me in the heat of summer. Can you tell I'm a city boy?

On the not so wealthy side

Being the odd one I am, I wasn't satisfied with just checking out the fabulous villas on the coast of the Islands. I also went wandering up into the hills beyond the wealthy areas. I'm not sure how many tourists went there before me. One little Turkish young fella came up to me and babbled away in a language I couldn't understand. But from his facial expressions and body language, I think he was saying, 'What are you doing up here? There's nothing to see!'
If so, he was wrong. Up in the hills behind the town were the little shanty farms for all the horses that made up the transport of the island. It was like a different world. Imagine pictures you've seen of the shanty towns outside Rio or something like that. I say two old guys sitting drinking tea in a massive pile of horse manure. I'm not joking. They had a small table set up among two or three big piles of dung, chickens and dogs were running around, and the skinny ponies were feeding off what little vegetation they could find around. I will rememeber that image for a long time.
It also gave me pause for thought - I complained regularly about the price of things on the island. But I guess in such a seasonal economy they have to make hay while the sun shines. The tourists probably come only three or four months out of the year. There's precious little else to keep them going and to keep the bony horses fed after that.

Turkish Delights

View from my hotel's roof-garden restaurant


This is the view I enjoy every morning over breakfast. Can you believe it? I'm so lucky to have found this hotel.
It seems pastiche, but the old town where I'm based (Sultanahmet) really is made up of little cobbled streets where guys sit at low tables, drink tea, and play backgammon. You might imagine they're performing for the tourists but this is really how people live.
Oh and if South Korea was where all the women were touchy-feely, here it's the men. They're all over each other. I've even been pawed by strangers on the street. You can imagine how I felt about that, what with my intimacy issues and all.

More food!

This was my first taste of Turkish coffee and baklava pastries.
The nutty looking one was the best. Dad, it was just like one of your almond slices without the jam. Very tasty. The green one held a surprise - inside was a whole, fresh raspberry. Delicious. The third one was just sugar and crushed almonds. It reminded me of Japanese sugar cakes eaten during tea ceremony. I wasn't wild about that one.
As an aside, I haven't seen a single Turk drinking Turkish coffee . It's only the foreigners. All the Turkish people are drinking sweet tea from a small glass. I'm starting to think the whole Turkish coffee thing is a big joke. The locals are laughing at us crazy tourists as they get us to choke back half an espresso cup of coffee grounds!

A Turkish tanning salon

I'm finally back in a city where I can enjoy walking: In Okinawa it rained too much, in South Asia the air was too dirty, in Dubai it was too hot. But here in old Istanbul it's strolling heaven.
Even though I wasn't that comfortable walking in the other places I have visited, I've still managed to cover some ground. In the last seven days I have walked 117,703 steps. That's 76.48 kilometers. And that means I have burned 4539.9 calories - almost two days worth of food!
The most enjoyable walk I've had so far in Turkey was a long morning stroll by the sea side. The sun was shining, the waves were lapping, the fishing boats were fishing???
Along the rocky banks local people have built little sunny alcoves out of the stones. Isn't it a good idea? Some people even bring along parasols and little picnics, but most men just strip off into their underpants and dive in - no towel with them or anything. They dry off in their little tanning salon. Can you imagine the old fellas trying that in Dublin's forty-foot. They'd get hypothermia!

The Blue Mosque, Sultanahmet, Istanbul

I visited the famous Blue Mosque today. It's interesting to note cultural differences within Islam. In Turkish mosques like the Blue Mosque, the Sultan would pray in a special gold-plated lodge separated from all the other prayer mats. In Dubai, however, it was explained to me that even a sheik must use the same floor mats as the rest of the congregation. All are the same before God.

The light quality

Here in Istanbul I definitely feel like I'm back in Europe. The call to prayer from the mosques does draw your mind back East every now and then, but overall the city gives a Mediterranean impression. I think it's the light. In South Asia and the Middle East, all the trees have big leaves. But here the trees have small leaves. The sun shines through them speckling the ground. Every street scene looks like an Impressionist painting. The light here is soft and beautiful.

Not a doctored photo

I thought I was very lucky to catch this photo of one of the minarets at the Blue Mosque. A prize to anyone who can see what arty little thing I was trying to achieve.

Sunset over Ayasofya

I took this from the same roof-garden. A nice drink as the sun goes down and I'm a happy man.

Winter sports in 44 degree heat? Zuh?

This happy photo is from my first ever skiing lesson. Let me tell you, I never expected to be getting my first taste of winter sports in a Middle-Eastern desert.
Ski Dubai is a massive indoor slope with 6,000 tonnes of snow made right in a shopping mall, the Mall of the Emirates.
It was crazy to go from the stifling heat of an un-airconditioned tour bus to putting on fleece hats, gloves and thermal jackets and learning how to snowplow.
As it turned out, skiiing for me was no problem. It's the stopping that's the difficult part. But I got a pretty good hang of it in the end and had so much fun. I will certainly being trying it again in the future.

Dubai, the city of superlatives, is a wow

Dubai is easily the high point of my trip so far. It is a mad, brash, lively, roasting, friendly, pious building-site in the desert.
I complained to my family earlier that I hadn't yet had any real 'wow' moment on this holiday. South-east Asia was all a bit 'been-there-done-that' for me. But Dubai has given me 'wow' moments by the sandy bucketful.
They call it the city of superlatives. They want it to be the New York of the Middle East. But it strikes me more like a Las Vegas. Everything here has to be the biggest, the tallest, the fastest, the first, the most luxurious.
They boast the world’s only seven- star hotel (I'm pictured in front of it below), the first underwater hotel accessible only by submarine, the first resort where you can own your own to-scale model country.

And they want to keep their pole position long into the future. At the moment they're constructing what will be, by 2009, the world's tallest building, the Burj Dubai. It's going up at a rate of one floor per four days, minimum. And if some other country tries to top them come 2009, they've designed it specifically so that they can add on another storey with ease.
The city is really like one big construction site. You see development at an astonishing rate. The statistics you pick up on these guided tours are great. The best one so far: did you know that about 25% of all large cranes in the world are currently in Dubai. That’s because 5,000 buildings (and not small ones either) are currently under simultaneous construction. And that’s in a city with a population of only 1.5 million, roughly the same as Dublin.
I think the ruling Sheiks here must be pretty clever. The oil money is going to run out eventually, probably sooner than everyone thinks. So now is the time to position their city in other industries. They've already had huge success establishing their tourist capital. I think making themselves a commercial, financial and technological hub will soon follow.
The Emirati people and the many other nationalities living in UAE have been the friendliest and warmest people of this vacation. That’s not at all what at all what I was expecting.
80% of the people here are expat workers but the remaining 20% are easy to spot. The Emirati are the only ones to wear the national costume: the kandoora (a man’s white floor length robe) and the abaya (a woman’s floor length black cloak). These robes are very regal. The natives float imperiously through their marble shopping malls, designer shades and top-of-the-range mobile phones modern accessories to very traditional ware.

The heat here is crazy. It was 43 degrees the first two days and 44 today. I have even been worried about heatstroke at times. The other day I was unable to find the entrance to a massive shopping mall. I got stuck walking around the vast perimeter for almost an hour in blazing midday sun. Which brings me to my other point: It is not a walker-friendly city.
I have even found myself running across a 13-lane motorway, being beeped at from all sides, praying that I would make it alive to the other side. With gasoline cheaper than water everyone goes everywhere by car or taxi. Even I, Sir Walksalot, have only taken taxis or tour buses since that first crazy day.

Tour inside Jumeira Mosque This morning's schedule was the most worthwhile activitiy I've done in a long time. The Jumeira mosque in Dubai offers the chance for non-Muslims to see inside the building and learn about the five pillars of Islam in a relaxed and open setting. In my life I have been exposed to so many negative images of Islam. It was refreshing, a joy even, to learn about this religion from a young Arab man using great humour, charm, and sincerity. This was no wild-eyed zealot. This was a warm, devout young person who honestly wanted to teach other people about all that was good in his beliefs. His simple, kind devotion reminded me a lot of my family. The whole thing moved me and a lot of other people on the tour as well. Overall I was blown away by just how similar the beliefs and practices of Islam and Christianity are. Far more unites us than divides us.

Pad Thai

I am confident even I, with my non-existent culinary skills, could make this yummy dish.
Par-boil some flat rice noodles.
Clean and slice carrot, spring onion and beansprouts.
Cube some deep-fried tofu to bite size pieces (non-veggies use chicken).
Oil your wok and stir fry the veggies a little.
Add some egg, the noodles and the tofu and stir fry until the egg is cooked.
Throw in some sweetened soy sauce (non-veggies use thai fish sauce), pepper and salt to taste.
Serve with a good tablespoon of crushed peanuts, a good teaspoon of ground dried chilli, a half a lime, and some spring onion on the side.
Why not try it for dinner tonight?
Disclaimer: Please don't sue me if you poison yourself - I really can't cook.

Frescoes, elephants and chedis

Thai frescos

One of the best moments in Bangkok came on my tour of the Grand Palace complex.
I had taken a boat tour all that morning and was hot, tired and sweaty. But I really wanted to see the royal compound and especially the Emerald Buddha housed in a beautiful wat within.
The place was crowded with tourists and I wasn't feeling the experience at all.
But then I came to the marble galleries built all around the courtyard. I found a secluded spot, sat down on the cool marble, listened to some birds singing in the shaded eaves above me, and drank in the gold leafed frescos all around.
I was a happy man once again.

White Elephants

You see images of elephants everywhere in Thailand.
In antiquity, the king of Siam would give away rare white elephants as gifts. But he only gave such presents to his enemies or people who had displeased him. The white elephant demands so much costly special attention that feeding and caring for the animal would often bankrupt the receiver of the king's 'kindness'.
That's why we now use the term 'white elephant' to describe impressive stadiums and airports that a government builds for a town, but that the town really doesn't need and cannot afford to keep up.

Golden Chedi, Bangkok

A chedi is a repository for Buddhist scriptures - Dad and Mam, I hope that one comes up for you in The Irish Times crossword.

Thai Green Curry

My main goal for my first night in Bangkok was to have a really good meal in a Thai restuarant.
Now you know I've been doing the street vendor thing a lot. And that's all good. But tonight I wanted something special. I went to the restaurant of the Grand Hyatt in the centre of Bangkok and ordered the meal I've shown you here. It certainly wasn't hawker pricing but it was still way more reasonable than any equivalent in Dublin.
I may have let out a slight groan of pleasure when I tasted the curry - it was that good. I had already shamed myself in such a fancy place by standing up to take pictures of my food so I didn't care.
Maybe people think it's a bit weird for me to keep putting up pictures of my meals. But honestly, food of all kinds makes me so happy - it acts as a more precious souvenir for me than many things I could imagine.

Bangkok changes?

Fried tofu, basil leaves and chilli over rice

Things that HAVE NOT changed since the last time I was in Bangkok:
People still inexplicably sniff Vicks Nasal Inhalers all the time - like just walking through a shopping centre or waiting for a bus (must be to do with the pollution)
Ronan Keating, Westlife and Enya are still piped on a loop throughout this country - explains their career longevity, I suppose.
You see the most hardcore looking tatoos on many of the guys over here - the kind that are done with a single long needle - not a needle gun. It might be a religious thing.
You still get dripped on from above all the time - even when it's not raining. Best not to ask where the dodgy water is coming from.
Things that HAVE changed since the last time I was in Bangkok:
You have more chance of finding a Japanese restaurant in the centre of Bangkok than a Thai one.
There are way more police and army officers on the street - probably due to the recent military coup and unrest.
The King's image is more prevalent than ever before. I think this acts as a stabilising influence to the point above.

Despairing on Penang

My first day in Penang was what backpacking is all about. Unplanned travel can bring you the worst and best moments almost concurrently. Leaving myself exposed to what the open road had in store for me brought me from despair to elation in minutes. It felt good to be alive (in the end…)
I took the overnight sleeper train from KL to Penang. A very backpackery thing to do - you save one night's accommodation, get a good dose of local colour, and cover some serious ground. And all for a tenner!
I arrived in Penang in the pitch dark at 6am (the sun rises late down here) with no map, no accommodation booked and no idea what I was doing.
The fifteen-minute ferry from the mainland to Penang Island only cost a few cents - but I'd say that's what had been spent on the boat's upkeep in the last few years. I tried to calculate how far I could swim and what the most buoyant items in my bag were. But such drastic measures were not needed. I arrived safely at the port.
I often travel without a map. When I do I usually just follow the flow of traffic. This has an unparalleled record in bringing me straight to the red light district! Quite an interesting social observation that. I got propositioned three times on the one street. And it was only just after 6 in the morning. Is that really a peak time for such an industry?
That put me little on edge. Then one of the hotels I'd read about in a guide book many months previous turned out to be nestled down crack alley in Chinatown. Not the relaxing few days in the sun I was looking for. I moved on.
Two hours' walking is 15,000 steps. Add a 15 kilo backpack and 32 degree temperatures and you can imagine how I was starting to feel. Worse still both the 5-star palaces and 10 euro dumps of Penang were telling me they had no vacancies. It was getting to the stage where I was really thinking of just getting a taxi to the airport, changing my ticket and leaving Penang as soon as I'd arrived on it.
As I walked along aimless and despairing I came across an internet cafe. My Japanese hotel booking site gave me nothing. They didn’t have a single Penang hotel on offer. I tried Travelocity, Expedia, Hotels.com – all the websites I could think of. You would not believe the prices they were asking. Like 500 euro a night. I saw one room for 46 euro and thought this could be a goer. The booking was going smoothly until I read the notice: ‘Important information about your hotel: construction has not yet been completed.’ It was at this stage I would have loved to have had a good cry but don’t seem to have the ability anymore. It would have been such a release.
Then I got inspiration. About 200 metres before the café I’d passed a really slick looking hotel. A real 5-star place – it looked like one of those hotels you see in Wallpaper Magazine. I hadn’t even bothered going in to ask if they had vacancies. It looked that far out of my league.
I decided to do a quick search on the web. I found their site and lo and behold they had a suite room (seriously the best hotel room I have ever stayed in) for only 50 euro a night. I’ve put up a picture of the stylish lobby to give you an idea of what it was like. If you really want to know more got to www.ghotel.com.my
Mere minutes after my lowest point that day I was sitting in their café eating muesli and fresh fruit, drinking the best coffee I’ve had in Asia, and smiling to myself at how quickly things can turn around when you just follow your nose and don’t give up hope (close and all as I came).

I'm gonna be on Malaysian TV!!!

My second day in KL, I decided to take a walk at Bukit Nanas. This is a small swathe of rainforest in the centre of KL. It acts as much needed lungs in a city with far too many cars and motorbikes. I wanted to go to this green space to try and clean out my own system. Having walked around KL for only for only a day, I already felt the onset of black lung.
It was a nice little early morning hike. It only took about 30 minutes. You get to see KL Tower up close too. Early and all as I went, it was starting to get hot on the way down. I was sweating by the end. And I mean not just glowing – sheets of sweat were pouring off me. And naturally this is when I met the camera crew.
Yes, I’m going to be on Malaysian TV! In a very sweaty and perplexed state.
They trapped me really well. In another setting I’d have run away. But to leave the park you have to head down about 50 steep steps. A man, who turned out to be an assistant director, was loitering around the top. I didn’t pay him much heed until I’d just passed him and he shouted, ‘Stop, please!’ I stop, all confused. Then I look down below and there is a ten person crew with a presenter sitting on the last step ready to do a piece to camera.
I start to go down the steps and from both the top and bottom come shouts of, ‘No wait!’ I turn back to the guy nearest me. He says, ‘Wait until the director says action. Then just go down the steps normally.’ Yeah that’s going to happen. Like I normally have a camera crew looking up my nose as I sweat buckets and pray that my zipper isn’t open.
A few seconds pass. An assistant does the whole clapboard and countdown thing. The director gives me the nod. And I walk down without falling (a greater concern than the sweat at this stage).
When I get to the bottom the presenter holds a microphone to me and asks, ‘How was the scenery?’ The back of my head answers, ‘Very beautiful.’ I sped past the crew without breaking my stride.
Here's hoping the sweaty mess ends up on the cutting room floor.

Follow the arrow

See on the ceiling right in the corner of my hotel room? Can you see the little green arrow there? What do you think it's for? Major cultural sensitivity points to anyone who guesses right.
The answer: the arrow points to Mecca and allows Muslims to face in the correct direction when they pray.
I had to be told this. I couldn't figure it out for myself. I thought it was something to do with the sprinkler system.
I also lost a tonne of cultural sensitivity points for wondering why there was a doormat rolled up in my wardrobe. It eventually struck me that it's a prayer mat.
Yes that prized job in the UN seems to be slipping further away every day.