“Serve the one you love. Once you decide to be a couple, you are there to serve the one you love, to serve your love to your lover. In every kiss, in every touch, you feel you are there to please the one you love, without expecting anything back.” – Don Miguel Ruiz
“Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time … It tells us to tell each other right now that we love each other.” – Leo F. Buscaglia
Nana and I in Florida, circa 1990
Louisa at Niagara Falls, circa 1994
Clockwise from top right:
1. Flowers from Found While Walking
2. Samantha Hahn Watercolour
3. Creature Comforts Photograph
4. Handmade Charlotte Coat
5. Sketchbook Attache
6. Pendleton Blanket
7. Pressed Leaf from Found While Walking
In New Zealand, the seasons are upside down. That is to say: right now (in October), it’s spring.
For a Canadian living here, like me – even after 10 years of adjustment – this can be hard. Sometimes it can feel like you’re two people at once.
October arrives: your mind turns orange. You can’t help it. You think about praline and pumpkins, straw bales on tractors, apple cider, quilts.
But around you, stores are lining their windows with yellows and peaches and pinks. People start talking about barbecues. You are glad it’s getting warmer, but sad that nobody in this country celebrates Hallowe’en.
(Not that the weather is letting on what time of the year it’s meant to be; the wind howling and thrashing outside sounds like November on the North Atlantic. My friend Jan reckons that after all there are no seasons in New Zealand, only different kinds of days).
My coping strategy really is to indulge my seasonic schizophrenia as the conditions outside dictate. On a night like tonight, with 57km / hr gales – and instructions from the weather service to wear at least three layers of clothing – who’s to say I shouldn’t call it Autumnal if I please?
We just spent a glorious long weekend up at my boyfriend’s family’s house in the country. In their rambling garden, buds are pushing out everywhere. But – wrapped up cozy inside – I woke up a couple of times in the middle of the night, and read about Madeleine L’Engle’s Austin family weathering a power outage in the midst of a Connecticut ice storm, and could easily pretend myself into the setting of the story.
In the coming months, depending on what the weather does, I’ll be trying to get into the spirit of things by making some of these.
Cold Outside
1. Roasted Chicken with Polenta and Balsamic-Poached Figs (swoon)
2. Mushroom Pizza with Rosemary and Shallots
3. Balsamic Braised Brussels with Pancetta
4. Tea and Cookies
5. Rustic Rhubarb Tarts
Warm Outside
1. Fish Tacos with Cabbage and Lime
2. Sardine Sandwiches
3. Shaved Celery Root Salad
4. Bean and Beef Burgers
5. Avocado and Mustard Seed Dip
One of my first favourite words was continental. It was the name of the breakfast we’d order when my Dad took us along on business trips and we got to stay in hotels. It sounded like sophistication, felt like crisp cotton sheets, smelled like a swimming pool.
When I was little, one of my favourite series of books was (and still is) Laura Ingalls Wilders’ Little House collection. As an adult, I’ve reflected that maybe the strong appeal of the series – to modern children growing up in the affluent 1980s, like me – was the idea of familial closeness and proximity (which is valued much more highly than wealth, in the books). Strangely enough, staying in hotels with my family was the closest I ever came to experiencing the “Little House” feeling. At home, we all had our own bedrooms and often spent our leisure time away from, rather than along with, each other.
In hotels, my brother and I would still be sleeping when my parents rose, early – dimly illuminating the room only with a sliver of light from the bathroom – to prepare for the day. I remember being so comforted by the fact that they were near, by hearing the sounds of them showering and ordering breakfast, and by knowing that we children didn’t yet have to get out of the snuggly, luxurious bed.
The word has been sullied for me a bit in my adult life – Continental is the brand name of a powdered soup here in New Zealand. Yuck.
But I am still in love with hotels – there’s something very special about staying in a small, luxurious space with the people you love – often in a place that you aren’t familiar with, where there are a million things to explore. (Though I have to admit that my favourite thing to do in hotels is to stay put, go for a swim, exercise feebly in the fitness room, and watch pay-per-view movies with the scent of chlorine still in my hair). I’d love to stay at one of these!
Alternatively, maybe one day I’ll install a pool and collect the things above at home, so as to wake up to continental mornings in my very own bed.
Clockwise from top right:
1. Wallace Cotton Sheets
2. Topshop Swimsuit
3. Chantal Organic Juice
4. Forlife Coffee-for-one plunger (I do have one of these and it’s great)
5. Logo Slippers
6. Bellbird Danishes
We watched a movie this morning that really resonated with me.
It was Yasujiro Ozu’s 1949 masterpiece, Late Spring.
The film concerns an unmarried, 27 year old woman who lives with her widowed father in post-WW2 Tokyo.
Her Aunt begins to pressure her to marry, which would mean that she’d have to give up her contented life at home and move on from her father, who will not – she worries – be able to cope alone.
The film juxtaposes a lot of traditional Japanese imagery ( household interiors with low tables and sliding doors) with modern American styling (another house has couches and Western wooden doors).
It seems to me like the change the young woman has to make is symbolic of a transition from young adulthood into independence but also perhaps from the old Japan into the new, or more generally, from tradition and comfort into the strange and the innovative.
Faced with this transition, she becomes reluctant, reticent, and guarded – though, as ever, remains eager to please her father, who pushes her gently but firmly into the arms of another man.
The plot is so simple, and is enough to break your heart.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about tradition and change. The library where I work is undergoing a massive institutional makeover which I find far too drastic for comfort. I also recently lost my grandmother, and a lot of things and places along with her: the town where she lived, the things she had around her. My mother insists that these things and places don’t matter, but I feel differently.
Sometimes it feels like things change or are forcibly changed just for the sake of change, without due reverence to what has gone before. To be sure, there are things that it’s a relief to move on from; but sometimes, it just doesn’t feel right to let go.
I feel like I know how Ozu’s protagonist feels. It’s trendy these days to be future-forward, but I can’t help being fond of a certain portion of status quo.
In part 1, I posted the map we made to take with us to Singapore – we’d plotted places we wanted to visit on it, and we found it indispensable.
Here it is again:
and here (in no particular order) are some of the very best things that we found.
1. The Little Drom Store & Kki 7 Ann Siang Hill
Delight upon delight! This store of treasures is crammed with artisan jewellery, colourful cotton bags, Polaroid cameras, Casio watches, and every other imaginable candy-coloured confection.
To boot, if you exhaust / hunger yourself shopping, there’s a cake stand at the other end of the tiny store:
We discovered the cakes just after we had eaten lunch elsewhere. We were too full to have one just then. Problem? Not at all. They’ll reserve one for you! Mr. Me picked out his heart’s desire, and they moved it off to the side with its own little “Reserved” sign on a tiny wooden stand. Later, we returned …
… and enjoyed this confection alongside the palest, loveliest Green Tea I’ve ever tasted.
2. The Plain 50 Craig Road
We were up so early, our first morning in Singapore, that we wandered the streets for some time before anything opened. By about 9am we were hot, parched, and ready for breakfast, so we sought out one of the cafes we’d marked down on our map.
We weren’t disappointed! Mr. Me finished his scrumptious hot chocolate before I could take a snap:
Our breakfast arrived shortly after, and it was delicious, too: I had the “Darling Eggs.”
We came back the next day, and they recognised us as if we were locals or old friends. How lovely!
Two trips wasn’t enough: on our last day in the city we returned to The Plain one more time, to buy some sandwiches for the flight.
We got teased by the staff at our hostel for eating Western food while in Asia, but we didn’t mind. We spent equal amounts of time in foodhalls, sampling more traditional local fare; but Singapore’s fantastic, independent cafes, like Plain, are worthy of their own accolades, and of our appetites.
While at Plain – and other similar establishments (see below), we met some of the friendliest, hippest people in town. And put our feet up in style:
3. Singapore Art Museum 71 Bras Basah Road
The pictures of the playful, joyful exhibits we discovered at SAM pretty much speak for themselves:
As vivid as the colours all around us were, we found the museum to be an oasis of calm in the bustling city.
In one exhibit, we were invited to construct a piece of cardboard fruit (which you could then exchange for the real thing):
It isn’t often, as an adult, that you’re invited to sit down and do something purely creative, purely for joy.
It made for a very relaxing afternoon.
Okay, I’ve mentioned it before, but we really were smitten with Chinatown, especially at night.
Not only is it pretty, but it was our favourite place to eat and hang out after the sun went down.
It was also the most economical. The funny thing about Singapore is that the same item (e.g. a Tiger beer) will cost wildly different amounts depending on where you go. For example,
… in Chinatown: a cold, extra-large bottle will cost you 5-6 Singapore dollars; plus, you can get an enormous dinner from one of the food stands for 3-4 dollars (no tax, no surcharge). The atmosphere is wonderful – crowded with locals and sightseers alike.
… in restaurants: just down the road in Duxton Hill, a small bottle of the same brand of beer will cost 15-20 dollars; your food will be 25-30 dollars a main (for a smaller portion that at the food stalls), and when your bill arrives you’ll find it topped up with tax (15-20%, from what I remember), and the mysterious service surcharge (which, as far as we could tell, varied in percentage from place to place). The atmosphere is glamourous, and you pay for it.
So, despite the fact that Singapore is known for some rather spectacular restaurants and bars (on our map we had marked down the White Rabbit & Tippling Club, the Screening Room, and Orgo), we found these places on the whole to be overpriced and less interesting than the street life downstairs.
(This isn’t to say that the city’s upscale nightspots weren’t worth a visit – especially the rooftop bars, which offer a glimpse into the glamourous city scene, and spectacular views over the metropolis – but usually, after soaking in all our eyes could digest, and briefly glancing at the menu, we’d head off on our way, back to our favourite nighttime haunt).
5. The city streets
Despite what I’ve just written, our holiday was such a walking holiday (we spent ALL DAY, EVERY DAY combing the fascinating streets) that nighttime usually found us cradling our sore feet (in the comfort of our room) rather than living it up on the town.
We managed to pack in so much every day, though, that we never felt, by evening, that we’d missed out. You don’t have to have much of a plan: if you set out on foot in Singapore, you’ll find yourself seeing amazing things all day.
We passed gargantuan skyscrapers in the business district:
… were swarmed by leagues of school children tourists at the Merlion:
… cooled our feet in the fountains at Raffles hotel:
… met an interesting staff member at a bookshop on Club Street:
… passed by beautiful temples in Bugis:
… and spotted surprising shop window signs in Holland Village.
Alas, this little treasure no longer exists; turns out, it was an “exhibit” on show only for a brief time. We hardly knew how lucky we were to have found it.
Run by the owners of some other small cafes in town, the Steeping Room set out to exhibit coffee in much the same way the cellar doors showcase wine.
You could sign up for a tasting, during which you’d sample all the delights described on their menu:
… or just hang out in the store, which was filled with cool tunes playing on a little turntable, and stocked with specialty coffee pots for sale.
The most delightful part about visiting the Steeping Room was the staff. They were so friendly and cordial to us. A young woman made me a cup of coffee on a machine you can no longer buy (Starbucks bought up all of them in the nineties). Apparently it brews coffee to the perfect temperature. It tasted pretty good to me!
If we ever decided to go and live in Singapore, we’d want to have these guys as our friends.
They were so nice that we wanted to see the other (permanent) cafes with which they were involved, so the next day we set of to find …
7. Loysel’s Toy 66 Kampong Bugis
One of the best things about this little secret was getting there. We took one of Singapore’s incredibly affordable cabs to a station nearby, and then walked.
It was like going into the country for half an afternoon; the sun was beating down, and we passed a temple surrounded by quiet parks.
Beyond the temple, we walked along an abandoned, dusty road. Was this the right way? We weren’t sure, and didn’t really mind. Off to the side of the road, some boys were playing cricket in the heat.
And then, all the sudden, after a bend in the road, there was the cafe – looking for all the world, amongst dripping willows, as though it were miles from any city.
We spent a relaxing hour or so just sipping excellent coffee and basking in this tranquil, unusual little place.
8. The food
I’ve already mentioned the divine confections they make at Kki:
… and the cheap-as-chips delicacies available at Maxwell foodhall (and other Hawker foodhalls):
… but this is only the tip of the giant iceberg that is Singapore gastronomy. We encountered a MAMMOTH ice cream profiterole (at Food For Thought):
… peanut butter and jelly bread-snacks at the Zoo:
… American-style 1950s malteds and club sandwiches at Overeasy:
… as well as a chocolate bar on top of a hotel, $27 Singapore slings (plus tax and service charges) at Raffles Hotel, and Spanish Tapas in Duxton Hill … you need to bring your appetite to this town.
9. The MRT
The Singapore transit system is worth a mention as a destination in itself. It’s clean as a whistle (for a reason; don’t dare to bring food or drink aboard), fast, convenient, and super affordable as a way to get around town.
Inside the trains, there are little signs encouraging you to give up your seat for pregnant, disabled, or elderly people. We also saw a poster for the Singapore Kindness Movement. Don’t you think every city should have a movement like that? We were inspired.
Here’s a poster for the forerunner of the kindess movement, the 1970s courtesy campaign:
10. Sri Mariamman Temple 244 South Bridge Road
I mentioned it already in an earlier post, but this place was really a pinnacle of our trip.
We took this picture on a rainy morning; on the day when we actually went inside, it was scorchingly hot.
Mr. Me spent time in India as a child, and he said that for him, entering this temple was a little bit like going back in time. The feeling of the hot, clean ground on our bare feet felt to him like India did as a child, he said. The incense-laced air smelled familiar, and the chanting of devotees nearby transported him.
Well, that’s all for now – though I could never express in words or pictures the amazing time we had.
If you get a chance to spend time in Singapore – do it!
I hope we’ll get to go back very soon.
By trial and error, we learned two very important lessons about accommodation in Singapore:
1. If you’re going to stay in a hostel, stay ONLY in very high-rated ones.
2. VISIT the big, tourist attraction, landmark-type hotels. STAY in a smaller, boutique place.
To elaborate:
1. Before we left, I had my heart set on booking a private room for us in a hostel (we stayed in hostels for most of our trip, splurging on a hotel room for the last two nights). My more open-minded travelling companion was leaning, on the other hand, towards booking us some beds in dorms.
“I’m too old for that!” I said. But his argument was compelling: the only private rooms available were in hostels that had received a lower rating on our trusted guide. By staying in a dorm, he argued, we could stay in a nicer place – like Pillows & Toast (pictured above).
We came to a compromise: first we stayed at his pick (Pillows & Toast) in a 10-bed, followed by a 4-bed, dorm. The 10-bed dorm was loud and crowded, but the 4-bed dorm was ideal; we had quiet roommates, and large lockers for our stuff. More importantly, the hostel was clean, well-fitted out, and friendly. We had a choice of two lounges and access to the guidance of very friendly staff. There are enough showers never to have to wait in line, and a small but decent breakfast each morning (toast with a choice of spreads, hot drinks, juice).
Second, we stayed at my pick, which shall go unnamed. Suffice to say my partner was right: in the place I picked we had our own room (with a bunk bed), but we also had dirty blankets, noisy neighbours, cockroach carcasses on the floor, broken showers, lousy breakfast, and no window. It sucked! We left early.
Lesson learned: next time we’ll stick to small dorms in top hostels for the budget component of our trip. You really do have enough privacy, and you really do meet friendly people. To make yourself as comfortable as possible, keep these things in mind too:
– bring a padlock with you, to secure things in your locker. We bought some at the airport.
– pack light, so that your suitcase will fit in the lockers allocated to guests in most Singapore hostel dorms.
– if you have accessibility concerns, check the hostel’s webpage to see whether they have an elevator or not; our rooms at both places were accessible by stairs only (and a lot of them).
– pack a good handful of earplugs. In Singapore, people (children included) seem to get up, and stay up, late. Whether or not you have a private room, it will be loud.
– don’t be surprised if you see business men or families staying at the hostel. Renting an apartment in Singapore is notoriously expensive, and we came across a number of working lads who ‘lived’ in hostel dorms (think ties hanging from the bunks) rather than apartments. Just go with it.
2. We couldn’t resist: for the final leg of our trip we booked a room in the enormous, gargantuan, over-the-top Marina Bay Sands.
Nice room; soft bed; disappointing experience.
Here’s the long and short of what we experienced:
– It’s too huge for comfort. The hotel accommodates thousands of guests and it was full to capacity. Expect Vegas-style service (e.g. we called four times to ask for a shaving kit, eventually receiving it the next day).
– It catered to no one. When you’re housing that many people, you’re not going to target any one group: the hotel was crawling with a mix of business types, families, and couples. There’s nothing intrinsically wrong with this, except it just felt like you’d been dropped in the middle of a shopping mall rather than into a (very expensive) boutique retreat.
– The rooftop pool isn’t worth it. From way up there Singapore is quite smoggy, and despite the length of the pool, it was very crowded. Seriously, there was nowhere to get away from people in the MBS.
– The service wasn’t just slow, it was bad. Despite dressing up as much as we felt was reasonable in the 30 degrees plus heat, we weren’t allowed into any of the hotel restaurants. They maintain a “dress code”, aka “long pant rule”: e.g. men wearing t-shirts, baseball caps, and jeans were allowed in, whereas Mr. Me (in a sharp tailored shirt and linen shorts) was prohibited from entry.
This last experience was particularly unsavoury. Picture this: we spent our savings on two nights at this fancy hotel, and dressed up in anticipation of a drink beneath the stars on the hundredth-and-somethingth floor. Tough luck: we were unceremoniously turned away and ended up eating a miserable meal in the neighbouring mall’s food court. It made us wonder what we were doing there: hotel rooms aren’t that different across the board, so if you’re not paying for service, what are you paying for?
Did I mention that the minibar is fully automated and that we got charged for snacks we didn’t eat? Enough said.
By contrast, we had an experience back downtown that clued us in to what we might do next time.
After a delicious dinner at Overeasy, we were looking to hail a cab. By and by, we wandered in front of an adjacent hotel (The Fullerton Bay) where an extremely courteous doorman ushered us into a short queue and presently found us a taxi (all done free of charge and with speed). This is saying something, in Singapore: people usually line up for taxis like they do for buses, at designated stops, and the wait can be loonnng. We felt like we’d just been treated like kings, by the staff of a hotel at which we weren’t even staying.
While waiting (very briefly) for the taxi, we peeped into the pleasingly small(er), warmly lit lobby:
… and resolved that, next time, we’d treat ourselves to a night or two in a place like this.
Trusty tripadvisor has a good list of top rated, oft-reviewed Singapore hotels: start there, if you’re looking for a lovely, service-oriented spot. After returning home, we picked out this place as a little dream destination for next time round.
The other day on my break I found an old New Yorker magazine in the staff room. I used to have piles of the New Yorker at home – I got them for free on Trade Me (New Zealand EBay) from a woman who was moving away – and my favourite thing to read was always the Tables for Two restaurant-review feature, close to the front, in the events columns.
Even if you’ve never been to New York (I haven’t), this little column will make you feel as though you’ve just taken an evening stroll through Greenwich or the West Village and had a sumptuous bite to eat. For a little piece of black and white print (not even half a page), it’s a surprisingly effective little piece of escapism.
The staff room copy of the magazine featured a little French restaurant called Lyon. Wouldn’t you like to go there? It’s described as looking like a “stately train car” inside.
A treasury of past reviews is available online, too.
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