Traversing the Hot and the Cold

I sit in the dark as I type this, waiting for The Boyfriend to awake from his slumber so that we can go over to my gram's to have dinner. What a way to spend my Saturday off. Just while all my time away at home. Oh well, gives me the opportunity (or should I say excuse) to post up some photos I took in Abu Dhabi and Sydney.

Like I said, the Abu Dhabi-ans are mighty uptight about getting their anythings on camera (so much so I wonder what the sales of such equipment is like over there) so most of the photographs I took were either in some mode of transport or in my hotel room, out of sight. For example, this one of the presidential palace.

And this magnificent building, too. Much of the architecture in Abi Dubai (shorthand for Abu Dhabi and Dubai for the uninitiated) is like so, with nothing but window panes on the facade and an exorbitant amount willingly paid by the oil-rich sheiks for the air-conditioning. After all, if that's not the way to flaunt your wealth, then what is?

(What I thought was) An ingenious way to heat up my breakfast. Ended up just making the glass shelf directly above wet with condensation and me, wet with fear that it would crack. And my stupid system didn't even heat up my quiche that well! All this trouble when I could've just gone to the lounge? But, see, I wanted to avoid going downstairs and risk the possible danger of being asked to stay longer than I want, or need to, just to keep some lonely soul tapping on the wireless network with his lappie company.

It being my first time to Sydney, I was determined to take a look at something famous over there. And what more obvious choice than the Sydney Opera House? After getting the ridiculously simple directions from the concierge, I made my way on what was supposed to be a 10-minute walk.

It turned out to be closer to half and hour. By the time I caught sight of the landmark, my legs were leaden from all the work I had made it do the entire day. Still, it was worth it. Can't say the same about the pictures I took of it though, I'm afraid:

Bereft of a tripod, this was the only way I could get my cam to take a picture without my shaking ruining it - by placing it on the bench I was sitting on. And because every single shot I tried to take with it in the background behind me was pathetic, I decided to walk the rest of the distance to the Opera House (something like that between One Fullerton and the Esplanade).

That turned out to be a decision made in poor assessment of the situation: half-way to the Esplanade - I beg your pardon, Opera House - my fingers started turn really cold from the exposure to the harbour. Yet, I plodded on, determined to make my way there and do this:

Finally, too tired and my fingers too numb to make it back to my room on my own two feet, I decided to take the neraby CityRail. At A$2.20 to get to a station three stops away, it was a little over-priced, but the experience was novel enough to justify it. And, oh, look! Two decks!

After which I promptly fell asleep in my room, exhausted from the day's work and exploration. Only to be awoke by a long-di call from a certain Kym from Great Eastern inquiring about taking out a savings plan with her. So which of your smarty-pants gave her my number???

Belatedly Kimchi

It's not that I have been so busy that I haven't had time for blogging, but seeing as this is the only window that The Boyfriend and I have before he and I both march into Cubicles of Slavedom and end our lives as we know it, it makes more sense to spend time with him (and family and friends), even if it's just hanging around and enjoying each other's company, not doing much else. Sometimes it seems as though he is all I need in the world -

which is a fallacy, of course: he is almost all I need in the world

- but I still enjoy the company of a few old friends at a nice get-together once in a while (like that one just held at Jln Tambur a few days ago!). Which is more than I can say about the expectation, and the norm, of socializing, after hours, with my colleagues. Most times, I prefer to keep my time after the job that way - mine, keeping the decision of whether to go out with someone or to stay in my room alone my own. But oftentimes, you are expected to make that effort to have lunch/dinner/supper/breakfast with them, if not go out with them. Sometimes, it makes me wonder if I am really a sociable as I think of myself, but honestly, it gets really tiring when it becomes a tacit prerequisite. Plus, with what awaits me after my six months, it almost becomes an overt requirement. Somehow, if it's written there in the job reqs just makes it that much more undesirable for me. I guess that's what that personality test meant when it said that I had a streak of the rebellious in me.

Which is why, I think, Seoul was one of my favourite locations so far: although I went out in a group with some of my colleagues, once at our destination we split up and did our own shopping, which suited me to a T. No need to make ceremonial smalltalk, no need to worry whether I was portraying the wrong image, just me, on my own, focusing on the stuff I wanted to do.

Like getting trigger-happy at the Lotte Supermart, for example:

After I took this picture, a salesperson came up to me, enthused. She, starting to speak in Korean, and I, starting to get embarrassed, pointed to my camera and said, "Only looking. I'm sorry I don't understand you" before hurrying away.

Poor Mr Live Crab awaiting certain death in someone's pot.

An odd sight, frozen whole octopuses! Er, octopi? Ooh, a quick check at dictionary.com tells me that both are acceptable. How cool is that?... Seeing this now reminds me of the teppanyaki octopus tentacles I had by a busy road in Shanghai the other day. Absolutely delectable stuff. I wanted to buy ten more and devour them! Sadly, there was no time.

Political disputes and historical feuds never got in the way of earnest palates.

On the top left-hand corner of the packaging it reads: 3 Times A Day. Pray, what? What do we do three times a day? Eat? Pray? Get laid?

At Myeong Dong station. Obviously, a self-portrait. I know it's sadly done but it took me four tries to get something decent! This was, by the way, the place in which I happily got lost in a maze of shops. My only laments? No time, not enough money. There were lots of lovely dresses and shoes, but things there aren't exactly cheap. In fact, I recently found a S$4 necklace of white beads in Chinatown, apparently made in Korea, that would've cost me two and a half times more in Myeong Dong!

My train arrives, and I am glad it does. By the time I reach my station, Seoul Station, the area is more or less deserted save for the odd office worker who left the office late, as well as the more discomfitting sight of destitute men taking shelter for the night at the underground passes I had to walk through trying to find my way out of the labyrinth that made up what appeared to be an interchange station.

Also, I had to contend with a bespectacled man who eyed me as I stood next to him on the train: each time I turned round to look at him, however, his asian conservativeness must have kicked in because he looked away or askance - so I thought I had been just flattering myself. He happened (or not) to get off at the same stop as me, though, caught up with me and started jabbering away in Korean once again. What part of me looks Korean to these people? I'd just come back from a dive trip in Phuket, for goodness' sake! The man tries to buy me coffee (no thank you, it is too late), offers to send me back to my hotel (The horror! I forget its name!), and, when all attempts fail, he hands me his namecard. Aw. And for his earnestness, I shall refrain from posting it up for all and sundry to see.

Actually after that I regretted a little for rejecting him, because it was not long after that I got lost and ended up resurfacing from the underground on the wrong side of the street, and the road I had to take back to my hotel was awfully dark, quiet and treacherously steep. Boy, was I glad to reach the top of the hill in safety, my hotel in full view.

But would I do it again? You bet.

I Should Be In Bed...

... But I couldn't resist the urge to use the internet for a bit. You see, ladies and gentlemen, I am now in the United Arab Emirates state of Abu Dhabi, where the weather is swelteringly hot, the hours are 4 behind Singapore time, and where picture-taking is a restricted affair. I read in the guide of the hotel room that no photographs are to be taken of government buildings and such-like, and that permission should always be sought before taking pictures of people; women in particular find having their pictures taken intrusive. They didn't mention anything about bookstores, however, so I was today gingerly trying to take a picture (even though two security guards were making their rounds in there - for reasons mysterious to me). I wanted to, for the benefit of you readers, demonstrate Mills and Boon's reach of the land - they have a presence, unexpectedly to me, in the Middle East - but before I could properly depress the shutter button, one of the uniform-clad men marched up to me, hand outstretched and waving vigorously, saying, "Sorry, no, no". So my camera's memory card is still empty. Maybe I'll have better luck tomorrow.

P/S I changed the time of post to reflect the country I am in.