Christmas in Singapore

As expected, Christmas decorations in Singapore are simply grand. Amazing. Excessive. 

No cheap and understated choices have been made anywhere in the city. Christmas carols have been playing in the shops since mid-October. Jingle bells? Ok. Have yourself a merry little xmas.... sure, we'll do our best. Let it snow? Well that's not likely now, is it. 

Frosted Christmas trees, toadstool forests, life-sized ginger bread men, have decorated Shopping Malls and given spots for thousands of selfies to the Orchard Road and Tanglin Mall visitors. Abundance is the only word that comes to mind to describe this feast of commercial adverts.

But there is no real Christmas feeling or atmosphere. And I am not talking from a religious point of view, as I wouldn’t know what has been going on in the various Churches. I am talking from an excitement point of view. The commercial side of Singapore is truly astounding. The number of people shopping at the weekends completely obliterate any desire to be out there. It's even driven Marco to prefer to sit by the pool. But it lacks a little bit of soul, of genuineness. What's missing..... cold dark evenings accompanying the last working days before the break. Anticipation as we get closer and closer to parties. Knowing we will soon be spending time with family and friends, eating sweets, playing games, exchanging presents. We have that in flashes; last weekend I wrapped presents, getting ready for our trip to Europe. Our anticipation will be condensed and concentrated into a trip to the airport and our flights to Norway and Italy.

But right now for us there is a certain calm. 

Our colleagues will take a long weekend. For them xmas will be over quickly. The new year, the one we are used to, will pass. And then we will build to the real main winter event - Chinese new year. 

What a massive pikachu! Part #2

In between my 2 trips to Japan we had the Singapore xmas meal. So different from the Japanese one; firstly it's lunch, and in a land where good quality food is common and large quantities are expected, where better than the Pan Pacific hotel all-you-can-eat buffet in The Edge restaurant. I'm not sure we need to travel to at least half of Asia any more as we tried the food from most countries at that buffet, and once you've seen one temple.... It was a very nice meal, delicious food, the dessert bar especially was magnificent. I'm not into durian but Auntie Mary managed to pack away upwards of 10 durian mousses. The sulfurous end apart, a very pleasant meal in a very nice place. Biggest buffet in Singapore someone said.

Two xmas meals, two parties, one team - mine - and yet so different. The cultural differences are never more apparent than from these 2 events. Oh, that and getting off the plane today at Changi airport and immediately being cut up by a local resident who was so desperate to get off the plane before me, and then promptly walked like she was pulling a fucking tractor and not a tiny suitcase. And this was indoors in the aircon. Imagine how slow she will walk outdoors. Compare that to the bell boys at the dai ichi this morning at 6am, bowing as my taxi pulled away to take me to Haneda. Where is home?

Where you live or where your heart is?

So what about this pikachu? Well, Singapore may not have invented Pokemon but they have embraced the Pokemon go culture and even had loads of Pokemon on display at the airport! Look carefully though - is that me with a massive pikachu behind me, or a normal sized pikachu with a midget walking up my arm? Either way, pretty standard for Singapore.

What a massive pikachu! Part #1

I've been to Japan twice in the last 3 weeks. The land where Pokemon were conceived, where those cheesy Godzilla movies I used to watch on late night channel 4 many years ago were made. The land of Battle of the Planets and Mazinger Z and Jeeg robot and of course Goldrake! Although they have different names out there. Gatchaman and UFO robot Grendizer...neither of which I managed to find in the manga museum in Kyoto. But then there was a lot of manga...

The Japan team xmas party was much more sedate than I expected. I suspect that's because the colleague there are so well trained in dealing with alcohol that it simply doesn't have an effect. Free flowing prosecco, wine and beer and all they did was get loud, more talkative, friendly. But they held it all together. I just love the seat swapping too. Every meal in Japan with large numbers of people when they have a visitor involves them swapping seats, to all spend time talking to each other and the visitors. Arancini and mozzarella di bufala to start. Wagyu grade A5 beef with salad....the most delicious beef in the world, for main. Then the pasta dishes, then the dessert and coffee....a wonderful night with new friends. The previous night was one of those "didn't expect to drink so much" evenings. Japanese food with sake and beer and wine, and then Miyoshi insisting that we should have one more in a "traditional pub". The little place under the railway bridge, fried food on sticks - think it's an izakaya bar, warm sake with chicken kebabs. I walked him....held him upright, to get at cab home at the dai-ichi hotel. At the party he was certain he had caught the train home. On the basis of the resistance that he has developed over 30 years of hard drinking, that must have been some serious alcohol consumption even by his standards. Morning of the party I was rough. He looked it too during our goals review. But he perked up by noon and was ready for round #2. Meanwhile I needed to go back to the hotel and have 3 hour lie-down. It was only the prosecco at the party that saw me through the night! God bless prosecco and its medicinal powers.

More shortly - and is that a massive pikachu I see....??

Fish is the new pig

A few days ago we have tried one of the signature dishes of Singapore, fish head curry.

The cheek flesh, supposed to be the best part, is indeed very tender and delicate in taste. If I did not see it coming from the fish head, I would have thought it was just fish…

The eye ball are supposed to be a delicatessen too. They are given to the kids, as it’s good for developing good eye sight.

Marco and I are not very clever, we consider ourselves funny, but maybe we are just stupid. We tried the eye balls.

Marco went first, I was horrified and disgusted, I called him a monster for eating eyes! The only edible eyes to me were/are the Haribo ones for Halloween.

But then I couldn’t let him win, I had to do it too.

So, I did it.

The day after I didn't feel quite right. It wasn't the eye ball obviously, it was tiny and without any taste. It was knowing what I have done.

Instead of feeling brave after matching my husband in a performance recorded by many people, I felt disturbed. I felt violated by my own actions. Went quiet. Couldn’t stop thinking about it and while I was brushing my teeth, my stomach was turned inside out by some strong gags.

Managed to keep it in. But even after a few days, I am still thinking about it. The spoon full of rice and spicy vegetables I had straight after the eye didn’t help much. The beer did not console my mind. Only the chocolate and Amaro at home made me feel safe.

It was horrible.

Good thing is that nothing of a fish gets wasted here; Singaporeans eat not only the body and the head, but even the bladder. Fish is the new pig.

And we have crossed a line. Despite of what I said on FB, I am not sure I am ready to push myself any further. I just don’t have the stamina for it. 

Our first trip back

My first trip back to Europe has been booked, YAY!

By the time we go it will have been 8 months in Asia, I think it’s a long enough time to go back. I have been reading about how long it’s desirable to wait for expats before visiting home… and I have decided in my case it’s different, as I won’t be visiting Oxford, but my previous home and what feels like home.
It took us about 10 minutes to book tickets, while Marco was buying BA long hauls I was buying Ryanair to and from the south of Italy, like in the good old days.
Simple.

Except for the fact it took me a good 3 weeks to understand that not so subtle feeling of sadness, annoyance and depression was most probably due to the fact I needed to see loved ones.
So, understanding and acceptance it was time to plan a trip was the first step.
I resisted it, as the idea of a trip in an exotic place was appealing, and I felt pressure to travel rather than going back to Italy. Fuck it; I don’t care if I’m a loser.
Then discussion with the xiansheng on what to do, how and where to go.
Next step was the one I hate the most, checking flights. It gives me a level of anxiety I struggle to describe. I hate it from the bottom of my heart. And yet I did it for at least 3 weeks no stop.
I feel sick at the pressure given by price fluctuation, at the feeling of regret for not being more organised. It resulted in me buying cigarettes instead of flights, and evenings spent with an unsettling heavy weight on my chest (il cosiddétto OVO SODO).
Truth is I am all but a planning, organised, logical human being. My actions are driven by feelings, sentiment, and stomach.
Not always good feelings, sense of guilt plays a major role in my life. That urge of making everyone happy to the point I no longer know what makes me happy.
It has been hard but a cold and white (hopefully literally) Christmas is on the horizon, chats on our life in Asia in front of an open fire are only over a month away, singing and dancing with the girls will make all this struggle worth it. And my heart is already melting at the prospect of spending time with the cutest Italian-English-Norwegian speaking spiderman I have ever seen.
I am now hopeful for a peaceful pre-holiday and pre-crazy-travel time.

r.

Familiarity and contempt. And snot-man...

Everything seems so much more familiar now. A taxi to work during a tropical thunderstorm; cheap food from a hawker centre; dinner al fresco in 30 degree weather (in November!)!; living in a condominium complex with a swimming pool; flip-flop wearing iPhone zombies everywhere.....

But every now and again we are reminded that we are truly living in a different world. It's a world that doesn't conform to my British values in body space and bodily fluids.

So on the bus to work you may get the occasional cough in your direction. Ok, it's not pleasant but more driven by the aircon than illness. I can live with it. The people that stand close to me, in a position such that my hand, holding the plastic hand rail above, is gently brushed and caressed by their hair, I could do without. It's a level of intimacy that I'm not looking for and don't really enjoy. As the buses lurch forward or stop suddenly the hand rail moves, I move, and occasionally they get a tap on the head from the plastic hand-piece. It may take a few goes, but that normally shifts them; but why....why stand there in the first place? Do they need closeness from strangers in the morning? Why invade my body space?? I don't get it. I just don't get it... does my reaction surprise you? Is it an over-reaction from where you are sitting? Maybe it is, maybe it's the culmination of all the little things that are also familiar, but that are deep within me reacting together, fermenting, as my reserved Britishness is faced with an onslaught of non-British standards and norms.

The taxi driver eating food, spitting pieces he doesn't like into a bag; the middle aged woman belching loudly and openly in the bank queue in the morning; the receptionist clipping her toe nails while talking to me; the old man on the bus pulling bits of skin off his feet on the journey home in the evening. Each of these amazed me in their own way; maybe they change you, they build together a wall of expectation until when you see something else that would on the first day here have made you recoil in horror then it's not so bad, just another familiar-yet-not-familiar part of living in another world, another culture. And then you crack and in a mad Brexit-like over-reaction you imagine a line has been crossed, enough is enough, you must take back control! Why do people not watch where they are going? Is it so fucking hard to stand up and move out of the way to let someone get off the bus without having to climb over you? Why do strangers brush their hair repeatedly on my hand!! ENOUGH!!!!

Last night was a night that reminded us that we are not there yet; we maintain the ability to distinguish according to our European norms. As we sat at the bus stop waiting for the number 75 to take us home after a lovely pizza, aperol spritz, wine, salumi and cheeses, an evening with Italians and expats, we found ourselves with a very small and skinny gentleman, clearly the worse for wear. Perhaps a taxi home would have been quicker, but the weather was good, the bus option would take 15 minutes, it was fine. The man took a seat near us, and started to blow his nose. One nostril at a time. Onto the floor. Roberta left at nostril number one; I wasn't sure if she was starting to walk home, given how quickly she moved some distance away. She told me later she was about to throw up, and needed space from seeing what he was doing (he had also started wiping some errant snot on the seat as he clearly wasn't having great success in bypassing his hand completely, and didn't have any tissues). So she missed the nasal and pleural phlegm excavation that followed. We concluded our journey variously laughing and feeling nauseous at what had just happened.

So there you have it - we are still British, Italian, European. Familiarity doesn't yet mean acceptance. We can let out the anguish at things that are not as we would do, behave, and so vent our feelings, postpone our own Brexit moment. It would be nice if we had more people with whom we could discuss our daily observations; we have accumulated many great topics for those lunchtime chats in the MH canteen. Also might be a sign that bus travel is not for us, and we need a car. Our own personal travel space. Something to look into...

6 months and 3 days

Time is flying.....
Where have these months gone? What do I think about being out here now it's not all so new?
I think I need to write something about that soon.

Apparently I'm married to a 36 year old!?
WTF?!?
We've been here less than a year but the wife is already a year older. 

6 months in

Time is flying.
Tomorrow I'll be 36.
WTF?!?

South Korea part 3

Seoul felt like a mixture of all my big city Asian experiences so far. The malls are not as plush as Singapore, but they are modelled in that way. The outer areas of the city, the subway, reminded me of Tokyo, the markets and the men delivering goods on their backs, motorbikes just driving down a pavement reminded me of Shanghai. In some areas Seoul felt raw, not as clean as Singapore, not as sanitised. More Asian, if that makes any sense. Art is a big thing; sculptures and statues outside city hall, lights and wall carvings along the amazing Cheonggyecheon river - this we highly recommend. I was completely unfazed when I saw it first. Ok, so there is a stream that runs through Seoul, and the city has turned it into a walkway, below ground level but open to the sky, with a few lights and rocks and pretty things thrown in. But by the last night as we walked back to the hotel I was smitten; you are in Seoul, but it feels a world away. The noise of the shops and city are in the background but all you hear are the patter of feet of those walking with you, the water trickling or gushing on the rocks. You could be anywhere except in the middle of a busy city. And of course, no traffic, no cars and sidestreets or having to give way to mad motorbike drivers. I can totally understand why the locals love it. Think..... think Oxford towpath, but take away all the cyclists, the goose shit, the drunks, the dog walkers, make the path wider, better, looked after.....forget it. Look it up on google!

The Seoul Design Museum outside our hotel was also amazing, aerodynamically sleek with its curved silver shell, with sculptures and statues dotted around it, and inside so much cool stuff! Gadgets you just don't need and would probably never use, but they look good. I almost bought a suitcase. Didn't have much space inside, was on the heavy side empty, kind of impractical as an item to assist in travel. But it looked so good!
And temples...we saw lots of temples...elegant and colourful, I couldn't stop taking photos of the curve of the roof, the eaves. Changgyeonggung, Changdeokgung, the secret garden, so much charm and culture, solitude and peace, inevitably spoilt by screaming teens, tourists taking selfies, or posing in standard "Asian V" formation  .✌.
No trip to Korea is complete without visit to the demilitarised zone, DMZ. It left us with a sense of sadness; families from the south split from relations in the north. The tour guide talked about reunification, when it happens. But I think we all understand that China and Russia and the US won't let that happen without certainty that it will benefit them. As we stood looking out to North Korea, and the "fake villages" I couldn't help but wonder who was looking back at us. Should the north and the south ever be unified, I will definitely be up for a train ride to Paris via China, Siberia, Russia. Dorasan station is ready - but currently stands as another symbol of the separation.

On the lighter side of our trip, we visited Gangnam! Yes, it's a real place! Nothing particularly exciting about the area....shopping mall, nice locale, it's not far from the Infineum office in Seoul. But it has a statue of some hands, in a particular pose. A statue that plays a certain song when you get close to it, and gets tourists and locals dancing a particular dance. It's as cheesy as you can get, and utterly worth it for the ridiculousness and laughter it induces. Go there!! And feel the K-pop....

So that was Korea. Completely worth it, even so short a trip. Will definitely go back as when we were leaving I discovered something I just must see. More on that next year I hope.

Before signing off this entry, I only added lesson #1 previously I think.....

Lesson #2 - do not trust your Apple iPhone maps app
Lesson #3 - if lost in Dongdaemun market, as the only 2 non-Asians, with a suitcase, maps and travel book open, no-one will offer help. And if they do, they won't know where the hotel you want is. You need to find another way, but do also see lesson #2
Lesson #4 - beware when trying to order food, or understand what food is being offered, by using animal noises. Apparently "miaow" (like a cat) can mean "baaaaaa", as in sheep. We almost walked out of a restaurant as there was only miaow on the menu. I was almost too intrigued to stay anyway....maybe in another few months? Who can tell.......

South Korea part 2

Korea....

Busan was a contradiction. A busy port in the middle, container mountains visible, lorries crowding the road; a luxury beach hotel to the side - beautiful white sand (being replaced after the typhoon) with hipsters and teens hanging out in the evenings, listening to buskers and setting off fireworks, families taking "la passeggiata" after dinner; a slum to the north, since remodelled as a cultural village with art at every corner, on every wall; high end shopping (Shinsegae where r. bought her almost-free sunglasses); the amazing fish market, where we decided that all fish should be consumed having died of old age.....and taking confidence from our successful arrival, an hour on the subway followed by an hour on a local bus to the north, was another bus, that in 45 minutes took us to the temple of Bulguksa.

Lesson #1 - should you find yourself at Bulguksa, and like us, consider walking to the grotto at Seokguram, forgoing the local shuttle bus, on the basis that it's only 2.1km and the lady in the visitors  advise hut says "it's not that steep", don't. It is only 2.1km, it is often walked, but in the opposite direction. And it is fucking steep!!!! 2.1km, about 45 minutes, of working out your quads / glutes / hamstrings. We only saw 2 people walking the way we went. To their credit as they overtook us they didn't really stare. The lady did give us a half-sympathetic smile when she later passed us on her way down. All the other walkers, coming down the hill, would look away as we approached, I like to think to not let us see them laughing. But getting to the grotto was beautiful, in both sense of accomplishment and scenery. Top 10 thing to see in Korea - tick! Workout for week - tick!!
That day was perhaps the only day other than when we first arrived that the weather was cloudy. An autumn day, made sentimental by eating roast chestnuts as we waited for the bus back down. If it wasn't for the massive Korean temple in the background, and that we bought the chestnuts from an old Korean lady cooking them on the side of the road, and we paid in Korean won, we could have been in London. Perfect weather for mulled wine. How we miss having seasons.......

We departed Busan feeling like there was more to see, more to do. Maybe we will come back. Expert travellers by now, the KTX back to Seoul was easy.

South Korea - part 1

I'm not a comfortable traveller. Or rather, I like to travel but only if in total comfort. Anything less than being met by a man with a board with my name on it at airport arrivals results in anything between cold sweats and abject terror. You wouldn't necessarily be able to tell looking at me. You might see a slightly moist individual looking around with aloofness, refusing to make eye contact with anyone for fear that they may ask something and so my total lack of capability be exposed. I still recall doing that for almost 90 minutes at Domodedovo airport, while my man with his board, with my name on it, staggered towards me through the Moscow evening rush hour traffic. But I digress.....

That's why arriving at Incheon international airport in Seoul, finding my way to the airport express, getting my tickets (thanks JK!!) and the AREX to Seoul train station, and then the KTX rapid express to Busan, successfully meeting the wife halfway down there (thanks again JK, thanks Jay Han!!) ranks as.....a miracle. I mean, it all went so well! I'm amazed....as we pulled into Daejeon station I couldn't shake the thought that Roberta would be on another platform, or at another train station, but nope, she was in the right place at the right time. And I was in the right train too. Is this how travel is supposed to be? Smooth and seamless? I could get used to it.

Other than overcoming my fear that somehow the trip would be totally fucked up by me / fate / me + fate, what struck me most on that first arrival into South Korea was Seoul train station. For I was alone. For the 45 minutes or so as I wandered around, seeking a decent coffee (and finding it, plus amazing olive bread - Paris Croissant I salute you) I didn't see another western face. There had been a few on the plane, fewer on the AREX train, and definitely one or two with me on the escalator, but none thereafter. You don't really appreciate being the odd one out until you really are. It's not like anyone stared, quite the opposite; maybe they too are poor travelers seeking to avoid eye contact, as no one looked at me, no one seemed to notice me. I was merely another body in the crowd, someone to walk past, around, bump into (no one says sorry, apparently this is typical). But as the only non-Asian in Seoul train station for 45 minutes I have to say I absolutely loved it; like I was the first western traveller to this part of the world...(this would all evaporate when we visit the temples later in the week).

Having successfully met up with r. we arrived in Busan as stars. As we got off the train we were met by hundreds of flashes, as a mass of photographers took our photos. My sense of trailblazing across Asia had abated somewhat by now, so I was simply startled. Turns out we were in the same train as some tv or film star coming to Busan for the international film festival. We don't know who he was, or even what he looked like, but only that we were in the way, as his female fans pushed past us to get close to him.

No one said sorry.

Last year today

Parvis

5 mesi di vita asiatica e finalmente abbiamo una TV! Evviva!

Grazie ad alcuni amici molto generosi che ce l’hanno regalata, altrimenti saremmo stati ancora lì a sceglierne una…

La nostra casina sta prendendo forma, e anche se ancora abbiamo 6 forchette di numero, viverci è un piacere J

Abbiamo passato tutta la giornata di sabato nella piscina del condominio, sembrava di essere in un resort… siamo riusciti a rilassarci quasi come in vacanza.

Benedetto sia Parvis!

Anche se poi il lunedì arriva e quella camminata fino alla fermata dell’autobus è un pensiero fisso e non molto eccitante. Ultimamente io e M guardiamo le macchine come un bambino che mangia una mela guarda il pane e nutella. Vogliamo resistere e immergerci in questo nuovo stile di vita, ma a volte è dura (ecco perché poi abbiamo bisogno dei sabati a bordo piscina!).

E’ dura quando fare la spesa vuol dire portarsi le buste pesanti su per la salita verso casa, che la distanza è troppo breve per un taxi o quando ti senti figo, fai la spesa online e la metà delle cose che hai ordinato non sono in stock… e l’omino alla porta ti lascia solo il latte e la carta igienica.

E’ dura quando ti prepari fresco e bello per una giornata di lavoro e poi ci arrivi sudato, stanco e coi capelli che gravitano come un’aura intorno alla tua testa.

E’ dura quando fai fatica a capire e farti capire, e dopo 9 anni in terra inglese quello che non parla bene la lingua sei tu (perché qui sono tutti ‘madrelingua’)… ah ma con me sta cosa non attacca proprio!!

Però per quanto siano dure certe cose, altre sono facilissime.

Non devi fare il test allergico per farti la tinta ai capelli (evvai!!), non devi fare mille prove più una per comprare le lenti a contatto.

Il medico lo vedi quando vuoi senza doverci parlare prima per telefono e poi come se ciò non fosse abbastanza ti da’ le medicine di cui hai bisogno senza dover andare in farmacia.

La non-birra Tiger Radler e’ buonina parecchio, così come il cibo Thai e quello Giapponese.

Il Durian non mi piace. Affatto. E neanche quel brodino che ti danno con tutti i piatti cinesi.

Il bimby mi manca sempre.

Awesome Australia

One of the first things I noticed in Melbourne was people walking in the street without staring at their phones..

Eclectic city, quirky shops and coffee bars, diverse people and dress codes, it was a breath of fresh air. It felt like Hackney with US dimensions and a certain European charm.

Didn’t expect much and have been totally surprised.

The vicinity of Great Ocean Road meant I could do a day trip to the 12 Apostles. The weather and the view were dramatic.

Work, work, work and then finally a few days off in my beloved Sydney.

Went back to revisit all the places I have been to 15 years ago. It was really emotional seeing the house in Epping, the telephone box near Boronia Park and the Zappi’s Pizzeria across the train station.

Suddenly I was there. Breathed deeply the dear and familiar scents, I felt dizzy.

Spent a few days going around the city looking for an Aboriginal piece of art to bring home, but I succeeded, and not only I found something special, but managed to bring home lots of new memories, beautiful moments with dear friends and the confirmation that the sand on Bondi beach it really is like flour and butter and it was not my memory making it sweeter!

Love you Australia and I am not done with you.

Life in Singapore

After Bintan and all the itchy bites we went back to our ‘normal’ life in Singapore; it’s made of work (loads), trips to work (which involves lots of taxis) and shopping.

And here I must admit my disappointment. There are hundreds of shops and shopping centres EVERYWHERE. There are more clothes and shoe shops than coffee shops. But I struggle. There is too much choice. Everything is crazy expensive and I work in Jurong East, which means zero motivation in dressing up.

Many of you know my biggest weakness, shoes. After a few weeks of walking around, running for the bus and swollen feet, I needed to replenish my collection.

All my purchases seem to be wrong, not only are functional more than pretty, but are uncomfortable too! A DISASTER!

Not to talk about tights!

I need tights as tomorrow night I am travelling to Melbourne (massive grin!) where it’s barely spring, couldn’t find anything decent. Shops, shops and more shops with very little interesting in. Cannot say I miss Cornmarket street (that is simply not possible), but I miss knowing where to buy stuff (God bless Westfield, and Liu Jo in Italy, and Nero Giardini and Intimissimi and Calzedonia).

Anyway, shopping aside, we do try and enjoy Singapore and we do what Singaporeans do, for example cycle on the East Coast.

On Thursday last week we went with work people to the famous East Coast, and armed with helmets and water bottles we started cycling towards Marina Bay Sands.

Gorgeous sunny afternoon just before the haze started, pedalling with the breeze of sea (well, port) was truly refreshing and especially enjoyable because it was a school day!

I got very excited and pedalled all the way to Marina Bay Sands shopping centre and was so focused that did not pay attention to the tumbling sound behind me… stayed positive and pushed on.

Went back 1.5h later very proud of myself (20 km done!) and before crushing onto the floor trying not to pass out I had to comfort a scratched husband that faithful to his uncoordinated nature was responsible for the tumbling noise I ignored, in my positive thinking that surely that wasn’t Marco!

So we continued our evening (like adults do) having dinner at the East Coast Fish Hawker Centre having DELICIOUS prawns, stingray and satay.

The injured husband held together with dignity, only to moan once in the familiar Parvis flat.

Days have passed, the injured husband is still very tender and sore. I feel no longer guilty for having neglected the nasty feeling that suggested Marco could have gone off the bike and for having cycled faster than him and in so doing, having offended his male ego.

No ribs are broken. Now we know for sure.

So we are off to opposite sides of the planet for the next 2 weeks.

First time in Indonesia

After months of summer spent in the city, last weekend we finally went to the sea. Only for two days, but this is just to start….

Bintan is pretty close and it has a very decent beach.

Quiet, very quiet, a bit too quiet… in fact only Italians were on the beach and pretty much everyone else was sitting by the swimming pool… we found out why.

At our expenses. Jellyfish and sand-flies.

Still a gorgeous beach though, with white sand, crystalline water and no screaming kids splashing around, a paradise!

Came back full of very itchy bites and with a bottle of prosecco that costed me lots of money and a chat with the airport force while chewing a chewing gum.
Life in Asia continues...

Singapore-lah

After nearly four months spent in the country, all we see is now familiar or anyway not surprising.
Here are snapshots of our weekends in Singapore, that after so much Japan I believe deserves to be mentioned ;)

Some more Japan... Just because we loved it!