Hittin' London Town

Blogging to you live from London wahey! I'm currently sitting snug under Lynn's awesome bloodred-brightred-satsumaorange-sunflowerorange duvet. The babe herself's engrossed in yet another game of sudoku, and we're busybusy singin' along to the boyband hits of our primary cacatness of so long ago.

"A foggy daayyy... in London townn..."

Saturday's coach journey was uneventful, if rather prolonged due to lousy traffic coming out of London. Navigated my way to Shepherd's Bush by bus because the Central Line was closed, and settled in to a nice dinner of sweet-and-sour chicken with peas and rice. After a quick shower we headed out to Fabric, this apparently really "happening" club with Sophia and Sanna. Sophia is Apui's friend from Kuching who's doing her AS somewhere near London, and Sanna's a Pakistani girl living in Bangsar going to the same A Levels college.

Goodness - Lynn and I were proper "flirty aunties" for the night, the rest of the group having an average age of about 16-and-a-half. LOL. The boys were cute but rather young and inexperienced clubbers, the music incessant techno throughout the three dancefloors and the entrance/drinks price skyhigh compared to ole Mancunia. Lynn and I abandoned the group about halfway through the night and from then onwards had a ball of a time shakin to the beats.... Haha, the idea of us two classical musicians actually have a great time in a techno club...

Verdict? Better stick to my northern "kampung "where clubbing's concerned. At least the unwanted attention's from dodgy inebriated students (as Phing can attest from last Thurs *wink*) instead of even dodgier men possibly on E.

But other than that, London rocks! Oh man, the shopping's greaaatttt. We get the same variety of shops in Manchester but because of the larger amount of space in London ya do get the full range of clothes, accessories, trinkets etc.

Today (Sunday) was spent sleeping off the previous night's debauchery, followed by a shopping spree. Meeting up with Soph and Sanna in Leicester Sq, I suddenly spotted Yvonne (from Wells) who was on her way to meet Eun-Jung. The square itself was quite crowded with the usual kaypoh tourists and locals craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the fabulously beautiful at the premiere of Poseidon. Had dinner with the girls and Ian at a nice posh Jap place, followed by a cocktail at the nearby Crescent restaurant-bar.

To be continued...

PVS

I've lost a sock.

I simply don't believe it, but I've lost a sock. And not just any sock, but a brand new, wonderfully stripy, adorably fluffy pair Khai Ern gave me when she stayed over last Friday.

I'm sure I'll find it if I did a more extensive search than the cursory rumage through the debris on my bed I did just now. I'm quite certain it's within the confines of this room, probably chucked in the knickers drawer, trapped behind the bed or bundled up in last week's PJs.

But this loss of a possesion - a sock, no less - albeit temporary, has suddenly thrown me off-course. And with the temperature stubbornly staying in the low 10s, I find myself unable to concentrate, incapable of even reading through any wikipedia article on the management in society topics. Even the nice thick Esprit pair my mum just sent me won't do any good - I want that particular sock. With tomorrow's exam less than 24 hours away, I guess you could say that I'm pretty screwed.

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Got a pleasant surprise today when I visited Bonnie's xanga site and saw a rather familiar photo... She'd used one of the shots I took around Wells Bishop's Palace as her background. Wahey! Talk about unexpected recognition. I'd totally forgotten that she had used some of my photography for an A Levels art project. Miss you, Bonnie!

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Lynn and I have both entered a phase of carbohydate craving. Not good. Quite upsetting, actually. I hereby bid farewell to my nearly non-existent waistline. I need to resume exercising in the gym once tomorrow's exam is over. But then I'll be spending 5 days in London with her and I foresee more binging on rice and ice-cream. Hey, us women have needs, ya know. Tom yum fried rice for dinner, anyone?

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I've got cold turkey from the recent lack of any photography on my part. It's great being able to explore the wonderful images posted online by photographers worldwide and especially from Malaysia, but - I'm just not satisfied. I wanna go out there and make iconic images of my own. Images that stimulate thought and emotion. Images that preserve my own memories and and represent a thousand words to others. Images, like those of the great photographers', that make you stop in your tracks and become helplessly absorbed from the very first glance.

One can only keep trying.

Don't even mention the "E" word

Hell starts... right about now. Blow me a kiss for luck =P. Gotta go, ciao!

p.s. be warned I'm only disturbable during weekends and after the 25th yayy. Buzz me aimlessly anytime between that and I might bark, or even worse, bite. Arf! The exams have gotten me a bit barmy, I'm afraid.

Registration Number: 05006474			Degree: BSc Management
	Date	Time	Exam Code and Title	Location
	18 May 2006	09:45-11:45	XSM101 Law in a Management Context (BM1002)	Academy
	19 May 2006	09:45-11:15	XSM101 Quantitative Methods for Management Group Y	Sackville St Bldg Ent Hall
	19 May 2006	14:00-16:00	XAF151 Introductory Management Accounting (AF1512)	Sugden Centre C & D Hall
	23 May 2006	14:00-16:00	XSM101 The Modern Corporation	Sugden Centre C & D Hall
	25 May 2006	14:00-15:30	XSM101 Management in Society	Academy
	07 Jun 2006	14:00-16:00	XAF152 Financial Decision Making (AF1522)	Whitworth Hall

Reverie

Yesterday afternoon was so quiet. It was one of those damp British afternoons that everybody complains about, yet somehow there was a beauty all around that really moved me.

I took a quick break from quants revision, facing the blank wall and closing my eyes. It was a moment almost reminiscent of John Cage's infamous 4'33" as my aural senses adjusted to compensate for the lack of sight. My laptop whirred at one side, the sound soft and unobtrusive. I could feel the light and warmth of the desk lamp on the left half of my face, see the yellowness through my eyelids. Birds chirped intermittently outside on the trees of Whitworth Park Hall. Somewhere in the building, someone closed the front door of their flat. Amazingly there was no indication at all of the usual rock or techno music that faintly punctuates the air from neighbouring flats.

The light rain threw a distinct blueness to the subdued world outside, refreshingly lush compared to the perpetual grey of British wetness. In this hallowed place of incessant worldiness and careless thoughts it was a moment held in stillness. For the first time in more than four months, I felt truly alone. And it was divine.

From the shores of Troy

Oh my, here's the latest blogsome blog I accidentally stumbled upon during my subway-dinner break from revision. Briliant, tongue-in-cheek idea, and I'm looking forward to seeing if this anonymous Homer can keep it up. Darlings, do check out Eurylochus blogging live from the shores of Ilium on his adventures with Academy mates Polites, Elpenor and Misenus as well as General Odysseus, and his insider's blow-by-blow account of the Trojan War.

Under Odysseus

Happy Mummy's Day

"Yay - happy mummy day."

Vincent's MSN has the sweetest message I've ever read on a guy's profile, and got me reflecting for a while.

Here I am, fresh from a shower after dinner @ Nandos, swinging on my red "office" chair, snug and warm in my favourite over-large red hoodie and track bottoms. I ought to get back to quants but I want to blog for awhile about one of my favouritest persons on earth.

I really should start off by thanking my mum for the agonised hours she spent in labour just to have my bawling, bloody, wrinkled, miniature chimpanzee self pop out, not to mention the full nine months of tiresome gestation. Having said that, labour was a mere couple of hours and hardly labour at all due to her immensely high pain threshold. After inducing lazy me, and with a little bit of forcep assistance, I slipped out as easy as a seal flipping from its iceberg into the ocean. The 9 months of carrying me to full term were happily spent waxing fat and contented with daily glasses of pure cow's milk and mahjong sessions with my various aunts. Really, you should see the photos.

Anyway without further ramblings, I'll just say that my mum has been a fantastic mother this year. Every time that I walk away from both my parents and through the immigration counter at KLIA only seems to bring us closer. Sometimes I'm even afraid that we might be getting too close.

Without her, I'd lose my only window to the world I leave behind every time I board that long-distance flight, where every minute takes me further away from my family and home.

Without her, I wouldn't have had so many light-hearted moments to break the oppressiveness of study stress, when everything just seems so overwhelming and I feel like I'd rather run away than face the big world out there.

Without her, I wouldn't have been able to pull myself out of my February Fiasco. What truly helped me through that difficult period was her unfailing support (even when I needed to talk at some unearthly hour, KL time) and a mother's strength to say the right things at the right time, even when it hurt to say the truth and it hurt her even more to watch her daughter come to terms with the truth.

Without her, I'd have less contact with darling Daddy, and miss out all the hilarious and frustrating moments of balancing the dynamics in our fragile but everlasting little trio of a family.

Without her as my anchor, I'm afraid I might lose touch of the goodness in me, the values that make me who I am. And so, as we used to giggle and whisper in the sunlight of my early childhood, I love you from here to infinity!

NEWSFLASH!!!

Falling with amazing panache from his lofty arcadium, Datuk Hon has finally succumbed to the gloriously decadent phenomenon of blogging.

Ta-da! Thou is henceforth obliged to visit Shyanism: Thoughts, Beliefs, Passions for the latest updates on thoughts, beliefs and passions. Okla, more like musings on Starbucks Java Chip, brilliant movies (in his humble opinion), world religion(s), a lack of a girlfriend and human fallacy. The formerly scornful archangel has finally joined us flawed humans in an attempt at voicing his take on life's questions and certainties. *chortle*

Figaro

Goodness, this apek cello uncle is bloody awesome... reminds me why I love the cello so much in the first place. Total versatility. Some people may think that it's pretty easy, just get together a few cellos and voila! there you have it. But as a cellist myself, i see it through different eyes. Perhaps it's the sight of a middle-aged man coming up with rhythms and tunes that are so... youthful. Maybe it's the ease in which he slides around the highest registers of the strings that makes me envious and at the same time, proud. Or perhaps it's the mere idea of anyone creating 37 separate parts for one sole instrument, and single-handedly recording and putting everything together in sync. As they say, the sum's greater than the individual parts.

(Blogger's crapping up my blog. Please ignore the previous scrambled post - the resilient wag's resisting all my earnest attempts to delete it, but there it remains, indefinitely. Might have something to do with YouTube or my completely inability to do any sophisticated html. or CSS coding. whatever. Anyways please follow the link if you want:)

A Cello Rondo


Just came back from watching the English translation of Mozart's Le Nozze de Figaro @ the Lowry with Shyan, Roy, CheeMun and Colby. Another first! This time at the opera, and I have to say it was pretty darn cool. Most, if not all of the singers from Opera North were stellar, the relatively small orchestra perfectly complementing and never drowing out the singing. Even though I still prefer the vocal sounds produced in Italian, this English version was interesting in that I could understand far more of the repartee and humour than if it was in Italian without subtitles.


I wish I'd have listened to recordings of Figaro more, so I wouldn't have felt so lost in the actual performance. I wish I had read up more on the intricasies of Mozart's crystalline music so I could've recognised more than just the famous tunes. I wish I (and the audience) had the benefit of the lyrics and dialogue (perhaps across the top of the stage?) so we could've laughed more at the ingrained humour in Mozart's opera buffa.

Anyhow, there were some sublime moments during the opera, when soaring voices and instruments merged, transcending unfamiliarity and literary understanding to create pure music.

tears

Woke up this morning with sore, swollen and tearing eyes, so it was another day wasted without any studying. Haven't the foggiest idea what caused it but I coudn't even open my eyes for 10 seconds at a stretch, and even wearing glasses was painful because of the lens contraction or whatever. After getting bored of sleeping (can imagine JJ's shock at this statement haha), been alternating between listening to music, peering blearily at movies on my screen, chatting on msn, and touch typing with my eyes closed.

As you can see, I've had plenty of time today to let my mind wander, get down to a little thinking.

After the glamourous photoshoot last week, I've had a handful of people buzz me over msn just to tell me how hot/sexy/nice/pretty the photos were. Mind you, they're on my contact list but aren't those I have conversations with regularly, and even if I do the conversations are usually initiated by me. Even now, looking over those photos, I think to myself that yes, I will always treasure them as the frozen moments of looking my best in my youth. At the same time, there's this niggling discontentment that only these superficial photos were able to make some people sit up and take notice of me.

The thing is, almost anyone can look stunning with good makeup, the right lighting, and a passable photographer. Thanks for the flattering comments, but I don't want to be praised only for looking like a generic 21st century hot chick. If they have to say anything, I'd rather people say that my smile comes from the heart. I want to hear things like 'Yi-Wen, you write like a dream. You've helped me live through this difficult period in my life. Your playing really moved me. I can lose track of time just by looking at the photos you take." Don't tell me I've grown prettier through the years, instead, that I've matured and improved as a person.

Rob wrote in my Wells farewell book that although I am small, I have a huge personality. However true that statement is, that's something that I'll always treasure and bring with me wherever I go. It's something that means far more to my values as a person than any photogenic image.

Because ultimately, I want to be noted for things that make a difference.

Narcissim is Necessary?

Spent a rather interesting day out with the other Miss Lim - Li Ying - @ Fusion Studios just off Oldham Street in Manchester's Northern Quarter for a "free" makeover & photoshoot session =P. The four hours there started off with a mini manicure - LiYing got a frenchie and my nails got a pearly pink colour. After that it was into the hair chair where first my mini facial, makeup then hair was done. Aiyor the amount of makeup that goes on! Felt like an inch's worth of foundation, concealer, blusher, powder, glitter, shadow, liner, mascara etc etc etc on my lovely face. *chortle* Hair was done astondingly quick - curled around a very hot, slim pair of straighteners, then spritzed and deconstructed. I have to say it was all very professionally done, and looked totally natural in the photos.

My photographer was Sean, a kinda cute, quite sweet Brit guy whose girlfriend's apparently around my height. Had borrowed a couple of dresses to try on during the shoot (thanksabunch Phing!) and we decided on three looks to try out. First up was my black lace top, slashed jeans and white/gold wedges. In the end the initial photographs didn't turn out as good as the later ones, probably cos being photographed as a model took some getting used to. Having said that, I have no excuse. My stint as a 2-yr-old gum gel advert model shoulda sufficed hahaha...

I'm wearing the same dress in the above photo as the one below. Sean switched on the fan in this one, giving a kinda soft, epic Hollywood look to this. Hmmm... just a chance to pretend I was Lizzie Bennet standing on Stanage Edge in Pride & Prej, dreaming of my Mr Darcy mmhmm...


Really pretty floral print, no? Not sure whether I like or dislike the glitter - the style's kind of Brit but at the same time it does open up my eyes. My skin looked so pale throughout this shoot.. aiks.


For the last shoot I Wore Phing's gorgeous WestOne dress with the lace back, and had my hair half pinned up and the fringe straightened, though you can't really see it in this photo. Sean dimmed the lights and pulled down a black background for a minimalist, dramatic effect. Very noir chic. Think this is the best out of all three I came away with. (In Shyan's words: my hair framing my face perfectly. Though he thinks I look too serious. Oi, I was going for a mysterious, sexy look ok.)

In all it was quite an experience, a good break from the intense studying. (Studying? What studying??)

Malaysian Students' Society of Manchester Night 2006

Oh my I'm in a poetry mood again... Think my tastes go around in a very erratic - I'd like to think eclectic - circle. One month it's classic Russian Bulgakov, the next - Rembrandt in Amsterdam, then ballet, followed by full-out Rachmaninov and John Donne's poetry (blame Tristan + Isolde for citing his The Good Morrow), swapping over to "father of New Age" David Lanz's iconic first album Heartsounds, and now easy, languid poems. In the coming months I'll have Mozart's Marriage of Figaro @ The Lowry, Rachmaninov's Suite No.2 for 2 pianos, his 2nd and 4th Piano Concertos, hopefully the performances of Bobby Chen and Krystian Zimmerman with the MPO, and maybe Sarawak's Rainforest Festival. Me and the arts would be like Shahril and his bands, though he'd probably proclaim that his music is the true art of all hahaha.

Saturday saw us all getting dressed up for the MSSM event of the year - M Night 2006! Preparations began early afternoon, with Li Ying, Enn Swan, and Wan Phing trooping over to my little room in various states of (un)dress. 5pm onwards saw two wonderfully patient guys, namely Enn Yong & Shyan waiting in the common room and occasionally glancing at their hypothetical watches. Takes time to curl hair, make up and get zipped into our glamourous gowns, dears. Besides, us girls do it for the benefit of you guys =P. Made a rather head-turning crowd as we tottered and sauntered respectively up Oxford Road from Whitworth Park Hall to Whitworth Hall. At the entrance there was of course the necessary quarter of an hour spent camwhoring, and by the time we waltzed to our table we were so late it wasn't even fashionable heehee.

The lengluis: WanPhing, EnnSwan, me, LiYing =P

The lengzhais? : Shyan, Roy, EnnYong, JJ

Food was biasa-lah, catered by Jati, slightly deviating from the planned menu: prawn keropok, some weird prawn rolls, swimming achar, diluted air bandung, not bad nasi minyak, spicy beef rendang (not!), lousy ayam merah, dodgy sour green grapes, nice watermelon and sweet honeydew. There was a guy all dressed up in matching suit and leather shoes but totally sockless!! (see left for evidence.) Hilarious. After a break camwhoring with Sam & Nic on the stairs outside the hall we took the shuttle mini-van to the Dancehouse Theatre for the "cultural performance" titled Chrysalis. (According to JJ the sign was destroyed by a bus ploughing into the front of the building!) On the way Miss "future-flatemate" Lim happily oggled the fit Malay boys in our van, whereas our own guys followed behind, alone in their own van because apparently no girls wanted to get in with them! Teeheehee...

Phing & I fooling around with my flower while queueing to go in for the performance.

Chrysalis featured two lousy MCs, an ok script with its cliched predictable plot but some hilarious moments, mixed standards of acting, and peppered throughout with "cultural Malaysian" dancing. Highlights include seeing Nunie in both the traditional Malay and Chinese fan dances (really she looks soo Chinese!), QiLian & MingWei looking gorgeous and graceful with their Chinese ribbon dance, the pretty darn good Bollywood dance, and the amusing roles of Shahrin our president. Interval and post-performance saw more mingling and camwhoring.












L: Malaysian Bollywood R: Nunie in the fan dance - she's the one in specs

Instead of joining the horde of Malaysians @ Zoomroom which had been rented by the MSSM for the night, we decided to troop down the road to Revolution - never been to this one, only the Fallowfield branch. No need to comment that our "decent, well-brought up Malaysian students" behaviour degenerated from there =P.

May Day May Day I Luv Holiday

Just a short 'n sweet poem I got off Sue Shen ages and ages ago. Enjoy. =)

You know a dream is like a river, ever changing as it flows.
And a dreamer's just a vessel that must follow where it goes.
Trying to learn from what's behind you and never knowing what's in store
makes each day a constant battle just to stay between the shores.
And I will sail my vessel 'til the river runs dry.
Like a bird upon the wind, these waters are my sky.
I'll never reach my destination if I never try,
So I will sail my vessel 'til the river runs dry.
Too many times we stand aside and let the water slip away.
To what we put off 'til tomorrow has now become today.
So don't you sit upon the shore and say you're satisfied.
Choose to chance the rapids and dare to dance the tides.

Back to School

It's first day of my third term at university... time to take a blogging break from studying! hahaha... Anywayz, just a quick update of what I've been up to since coming back from Amsterdam:

Nothing.

Yes, yes, je vais been a lazy little piggy wiggy. Doing quite a bit of spring hibernation, esp with the dratted head cold I've been struggling to overcome, contributed by a sense of pleasant confidence that I won't miss any classes if I do oversleep. But, I have managed to get a teensy bit of studying done, so all's not lost.

Went to see the Bolshoi perform Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake at the Lowry. For those in the dark, the Bolshoi is the premier ballet company in Russia, and argubaly the best in the world. In fact, they were the ones who premiered the first performance of Swan Lake, so lots of history there. 'Twas a very interesting, visually exciting first experience at a ballet for me. The production was top notch - props and scenery rich, dark and lush, costumes gorgeous colours and textures all the way... Tchaikovsky's lyrical score had a strangely distant quality almost like the way one hears the eerie waltz through thick mist in Ravel's La Valse, thanks to the odd acoustics caused by the orchestra pit being half under the stage.

Under the lead of new artistic director Alexei Ratmansky and choreographer Yuri Grigorovich, the interpretation of Swan Lake was shifted from the familiar fairy tale to a darker psychological drama, the focus of the performanace here being more on Prince Seigfried's internal demons than the Odette/Odile power struggle. Siegfried himself was played by gorgeous hunky Sergei Filin with one helluva nice firm butt (hey, no complaints about him standing with his back to the audience sooo often ya?); the lovely exotic Maria Alexandrova was graceful and lyrical, and even though she didn't quite dazzle with the famous 32 fouettes en tournant (I counted only 29!), her interchanging characterisation of the fragile Odette and strong Odile was totally spot on. Now if there's one thing the Russians know how to do, it is ballet. The sheer discipline of the dancers produced some utterly stunning images of intertwining limbs, curvin patterns and yearning bodies. For some more official photos of the lovely ballerinas and eye candy (heehee), click here. Shame we didn't get back in time from Amsterdam to enjoy the famed visceral virility of the Bolshoi's male corps de ballet in Spartacus horr... ;D


Aiighh reading Phing's bloggy just reminded me! Oh my, how could it have slipped my mind?! Hahaha.. after Swan Lake Phing, JJ, Francois (cute... Luxembourgish? Luxembourgian? Luxembourger? heehee..) and I headed into the city (poor Shyan having to rush off his Roman pottery report thingy) Hungry Boy being hungry again, Burger King it was for an early nightcap before meeting Roy and heading off to Opus. We had to reintroduce Francois to the greasy pleasures of American fastfood!! Waaah how cute is that? one refreshing human who's not been "mcdonaldised", so to speak haha.

Anyways it was a 7quid entry to Opus! Trotted down the path to Paparazzi - I've never been on a Saturday night before - where they were playin a weirdly random mix of dance, RnB and hip-hop, and way too many obscure 90s songs... :S And then there was this slimy creepy puny skinny little Indian bugger! I swear he was sorta following me around arrgghhhh... Didn't help with JJ grinning and sniggering everytime I moved around our cosy circle n the Indiano following around on the outside. No dancin, grabbin, grindin or pullin with me, yo! Thank goodness I had three wayy bigger n better lookin guys with me hahaha... Come to think of it, maybe the guy was following JJ around, not me...

Between then and now there've been a few movies @ AMC, couple of times makan-ing and hea-ing about, a couple of intense days with a friend who needed someone to be there, a memorable weekend marathon of Prison Break (ohh, Michael Scofield, how you have stolen my heart...) because I didn't want to start the term with any unwatched episodes, a crazy day's outing with Li Ying in our search for the perfect evening dress, plus an interesting first attempt at cooking bak kut teh combined with Linus' movie night. The friend's now feeling hugely better and on the way to the discovery of happiness, Michael Scofield remains in my heart until I can get my hands on episode #20 haha, the vaguely successful bak kut teh will be attempted again with another poor unsuspecting bunch of guinea pigs, and The Dress will make a hopefully spectacular appearance this Saturday, at our very own Malaysian Night!

Inspiration

Tell me, O Muse...

So Homer begins his epic poem of the man of many ways, the Ithacan king Odysseus. Hard and twisty is the homecoming of our favourite hero, hard and twisty is the telling of one of Western civilisation's earliest literature.

And as rosy-fingered Dawn leaves the bed of her immortal Tithonus, so I too shall evoke her, beloved of bards and poets, Muse of the most ancient of days...

Amsterdam 31/03/06 - 05/04/06

Whoaa where has the time flown? Exactly two weeks ago I was enjoying my first day in Amsterdam, capital of Holland and canal city of the north... and now for the long-due update! Link to photo album is at right under Photography; do click on the photos to enlarge as well as the links in white text- you're missing half the enjoyment if you don't. (p.s. skip the lofty long-winded artsy descriptions if this post seems too long ya.)

Follow me, on our very own mini-Eurotrip...

Friday 31st March - Arrival and exploration of Museumplein
Shyan being the only excusable exception to our "let's stay up all night!" plan, 4.45am saw us wannabe glamorous jet-setters trundled into a dodgy Wilmslow-based cab, bleary-eyed and hoping desperately no one left anything behind. Lynn pulling out of the trip to go home, there were no last-minute replacements to be found... and voila! our own (ahem!) menage a trois:

Shyan

The most experienced traveller, veteran of dingy hostels and rough camping, the aged, cynical seen-it-all navigator and rock of the trip.







JJ

The rookie on his first visit to a European country, the cool dude forever hungry, dragger of the unnecessarily massive luggage. Which then leaves...










Yours truly, me

The above image should represent the very embodiment of tranquility, peace and harmony with the natural world. In reality it's just another bloedige toerist (Dutch-slang for, of course, "bloody tourist") arsing about on the man-made lake in Keukenhof. Very cool wooden floating circles. But wait! I get ahead of the story.



Easy-peasy journey from Amsterdam Schiphol to the lovely Amsterdam Centraal though the flight itself was slightly delayed due to the French strikes; decided to get three-day passes for 13 euros each instead of the mind-boggling stripenkaart. Despite Shyan's adventurous spirit, a half-hour walk complete with luggage into our yet-undiscovered city in search of Hotel Abba seemed more like a search for El Dorado, so onto the tram it was. Info nugget: the central Amsterdam public transport system is indeed quite a wondrous thing to experience. Smooth, clean, relatively regular and very proper, plus you can sneak in from the back for FREE if you'r nifty enough; *insert appropriate derogatory comparison with a) Manchester buses, b) Malaysian buses/LRT/trains/taxis. enuf said.* Got off at the strangely-named 1e Con. Huygenstraat stop, less than a 10-minute walk from the Leidseplein eating district yayy!

Staff at the 1-star Hotel Abba directed three clamouring bellies to the nearest "in" place to eat, the Irish pub Tig Barra. Had a comforting English breakfast that brought back memories of boarding school, with a Baileys mocha... mmhmm...... After lunch it was off exploring to the museum area. After familiarising ourselves with directions and buildings, we decided to get the joint ticket to the Van Gogh Museum and Rijksmuseum. (Info nugget: Didya know that the architect of the former's new wing - the curvy thing in the photo below - also designed our very own KLIA?)

The few hours spent in the musuems were hugely enjoyable, albeit very tiring. The first floor of the Van Gogh Museum held a chronological retrospective of the Vincent's life and works, with very informative write ups and an excellent logical layout. It was quite absorbing seeing some of his most famous paintings (such as The Potato Eaters, The Yellow House, some of his Sunflowers, many portraits and self-portraits, and landscapes), as well as the smaller, more intimate works. Unfortunately, especially for Shyan since it's his sister's favourite painting, the ever-iconic Starry Night lives in the far West. Personal favourites include the series of peasant portraits, the Japonaiserie studies, The Pink Peach Tree, both versions of the Sower with Setting Sun, Church in Auvers, Sprig of Flowering Almond in a Glass, Almond Blossom, and of course A Pair of Shoes.

The Rembrandt-Caravaggio comparative exhibition jointly held with the Rijksmuseum was one of my personal highlights of the trip. The very cool, atmospheric entrance to the exhibit was the underground link between the old and new wing of the museum. Complimentary audio guides, dim passageways and intimate ambience, plus great spotlighting on the paintings made the whole thing thoroughly enjoyable. Caravaggio's colours were crisper and bolder, Rembrandt's tonal and jewelled with more chiaroscuro. The verdict? In retrospect, I still prefer the "Caravaggio of the north" to the "Rembrandt of the south" (haha). Might have something to do with the satisfying painterly quality of Rembrandt's style compared with Caravaggio's cleaner and harder execution, as well as the humanity of the flawed and approchable people in the former's work instead of the exalted, slightly-aloof feeling of Caravaggio's subjects. There's also something rather contrived about the latter's infusion of drama in oft-depicted scenes.

Favourites included Rembrandt's small early portrait, the memorable ugliness of the baby in Abduction of Ganymede, the tightly controlled drama of The Feast of Belshazzar and The Blinding of Samson, the surprising loveliness of Bathsheba with King David's Letter far more apparent when you see her "in the flesh", so to say. The Angel Stopping Abraham from Sacrificing Issac to God (long-winded title!) reminded me of Ghiberti's Sacrifice of Isaac panel (1401) which won the competition for the Florentine Baptistery east doors. The classically heroic, idealised body of Rembrandt's Isaac is quite a lot like Ghiberti's of 2 1/2 centuries before, but the suspense of Abraham's falling knife that seems about to kill Isaac anyway is entirely Rembrandt's own.

Perhaps the Rembrandt painting that moved me the most was Titus at His Desk, a small-ish, quiet and earthy portrait of the artist's son daydreaming over his homework, head resting on his hand and the imprint of his thumb distorting the shape of his mouth. The dreamy visage of the boy emerges into a shaft of light that dances on his golden hair, his empty brown surroundings almost a canvas that plays out the far-away images that only he can see. In comparison, Caravaggio's Boy Bitten by a Lizard is a wonderful and amusing study, but somehow one can't get "lost" in his work like Rembrandt's. In all, I preferred Caravaggio's quieter, contemplative paintings such as Penitent Magdalene (love how her turned-away face projects such emotion and how her sleeve shines out of her dusky surroundings almost as if the Holy Spirit's about to lift her up; note her contemporary clothing and jewelry as well as her status) to the larger and more recognisable subjects. Judith Beheading Holofernes was a rich but subtly coloured take on the OT story - the flowing curve of her body and strength in her arms almost seems to combine the grace of early Renaisance Botticelli and monumentality of High Renaissance Michelangelo.


The whole exhibition was pretty darn amazing in the way it brought together some of the most incredible paintings from all over the world to commemorate Rembrandt's 400th birthday year. Shame Danae's still in the Hermitage in Russia, would have loved to see it again. Really, ya just had to be there.



After resting our terribly sleep-deprived bodies along the Museumplein, it was a hop, skip and jump over to the Rijksmuseum. After about an hour's wandering about, I finally found it! The bigshot of the museum, grandly lording it over all the other punitive little paintings - The Night Watch! Goodness, to think of Rembrandt's genius in conceiving and completing this colossus within four years. Originally titled The Company of Captain Frans Cocq, the work really shows off his skill with light and shadow in creating emphasis and exciting composition throughout the scene. Highlight of the Rijksmuseum definitely had to be Vermeer's works especially The Milkmaid (use Artchive's image viewer to give you a sense of Vermeer's colours). Oh my that blue of her skirt! You simply have to see it in person to appreciate that deep joyful irisdence, lovely beyond description. I can't rave about the painting enough - it's the heart-stopping folds of her skirt and the sheer physical realism of the milk spilling from the earthen jug that makes the whole thing simply breathtaking. Also really enjoyed exploring the very detailed Street in Delft and the atmospheric Woman in Blue Reading a Letter.

It was too late for a restaurant dinner by the time we returned to the hotel and showered. Domino's takeaway right across the street suddenly seemed rather attractive and so it was pizza for a rather belated and sleepy dinner. One by one we fell asleep in front of the TV and over our reading materials. 'Twas a long, long day.



Saturday 1st April - Koningsplein, Anne Frank Huis, Red Light District
Like clockwork Shyan got out of bed when his alarm rang and went down to breakfast. Dunno where he gets his energy from. Followed him after twenty minutes of lazing in bed. We had a typical Dutch breakfast, rather close to the Continental meals we have in Asian hotels, but I suppose we were, after all, on the Continent. The spread included coffee, tea, orange juice, milk, cornflakes, whitebread, brownbread, sesame ryebiscuit-like bread, Dutch "breakfast cake", jam and chocolate spread, ham, salami, cheese, and hardboiled eggs.

We waited until about 1pm (yes, you read right) to finally get JJ out of bed. Turns out the flu-riddled Shyan had kept JJ awake all night (ahem!)... with his snoring la. Took the tram and got off at the Koningsplein stop to explore the floating flower market and beyond. Spring's arriving later and later each year - as a result there were honestly more orchids to gawk at than tulips. Had our first encounter with Dutch pancakes along the flower market - I had a normal and satifying chocolate pancake, Shyan a wonderful banana one, and JJ decided to experiment with the vanilla icecream and whipped cream with eggnog pancake! Whoaaa his was decidedly very alcoholic and proved too much for the poor fella to finish.
After walking across a maze of picturesque canals, trusting Shyan to lead the way with his map and tantalised by the shopping(!!) around Koningsplein, we found our way to Anne Frank's House. Very interesting tour around the narrow converted warehouse, office and hidey-hole where her immortal characters lived so many months in hiding from the Nazis. The ghosts of the past long at peace, and it being years since I last poured over her diary, I had to rely on my imagination and the commentaries provided to reconstruct what it must have been like for the refugees. The Free2Choose interactive display at the end made the whole tour truly meaningful and worthwhile. The audience is shown short clips on different themes (the right to demonstrate and the right to religion, for example) and then asked to vote on current issues. Results of the votes are then compared between the current audience and all the visitors. Brilliant idea, great display.

The boys being hungry and desperate for Chinese food (c'mon we're in Amsterdam!) we headed to a large-ish Chinese restaurant. After that it was off to explore Chinatown (as it was still light); we discovered a Malaysian restaurant called Wau! haha.. seriously pricey satay. Parallel to Chinatown is the world-infamous Red Light District, so-called because of the red lamps lining the long, long street as well as red lights adorning pleasure shops and "theatres". Oggled both the seriously hot and not-so-fanciable girls (haihhh why no gorgeous gigolos waannnn??) and sated our (esp JJ's) curiousity in a video/accessory shop. (@o@) My god there were some MASSIVE dildos! No joke, they were so big as to be almost scary leh.

Headed back after a night of experiencing the more "exciting" area of central Amsterdam; chilled out with some chor dai di and then the boys attempted to teach me to play mahjong! And that was the end of our second day.

Sunday 2nd April - De Oude Kerk, Botanic Gardens, Rembrandtplein
Found our way to the Old Church and discovered the "Black Corner", rather aptly named as the prostitues were only "women of colour". A very satisfying afternoon was spent wandering by ourselves in Amsterdam's Botanic Gardens, featuring a magnificient plethora of flora and fauna. Highly recommended, if you ever go to Amsterdam. A large open area with patterened beds featured different species and types of flowering plants and small shrubs, as well as a pond with ducks, frogs and frogspawn. The first greenhouse I went into was specifically for palm trees; the 2nd one had a high gallery walkway - spent a couple of minutes camwhoring there. The next greenhouse was really lovely with flowering shrubs, sculptures, mini fountains and delicate plants. From a hanging walkway one enters the next gallery and is hit by a hot, sultry blast of humid tropical air. Walking through the "rainforest" greenhouse, I could have been deceived by the realness of the setting - it was as if merely walking through the doorway transported me 8,000 miles back home to Taman Negara. Wonderful, wonderful humidity! At once I felt utterly uncomfortable in my jumper and thoroughly at home. There was even a really nice pond amid the lush greenery with a funny sculpture man with his arm all streched out. With a backward look of regret I returned to Europe. Smaller greenhouses contained cactuses from the mini to the gigantic, and fiendishly hard-to-photograph butterflies.



We returned to the city centre and indulged in some Haagen-Dazs icecream =P along Rembrandtsquare. Fooled around with the larger-than-life sculptures from the Night Watch (see headless impaled JJ at left). Dinner was at Leidseplein - after much deliberation we chose Zorba de Griek - yes, you guessed it! Greek food. I choose a simple but perfectly made vegetable chicken soup and a starter plate of dolmades - herby rice with minced meat wrapped in wineleave with a light Greek yoghurt dressing. Shyan had a really good beef stew with vegetables, and JJ chose roast lamb with rice and salad. And it was all simply scrumptious.


Monday 3rd April - Zaanse Schans, St Nicholas' Church
An early start and we were on the train to Koog-Zaandijk. It was a fifteen minute walk to the windmills; on the way we passed through a pretty town and a chocolate-making factory! Whoaa the smell of cocoa beans was simply everywhere, and to be honest I'd be completely sick of it if I had to live there for long, chocoholic me notwithstanding.













Sure enough we came to the bridge over the River Zaan, eagerly awaiting the first glimpse of one of the most breathtakingly beautiful views in Holland. Sure, it was pretty enough, but staggeringly picturesque? Hmm... But anyway, it was a lovely day to be out leisurely strolling. Took plenty of touristy photos with the windmills, browsed the souvenier shops with dazzling arrangements of blue-and-white pottery and dizzying rows of multi-coloured clogs, had more over-priced pancakes, and of course sampled enough cheese at the cute little cheese farm to make Malaysia proud. Free waaht. In the end, I still prefer cow cheese over goat cheese - Shyan begs to differ.











Back in Amsterdam, we paid a spontaneous visit to the Gothic-looking church near the station. St Nicholas' Church it was, and a rather well-hidden gem it turned out to be. Despite its dark, colourless and rather uninviting exterior, the building featured some truly lovely stained glass rose windows, engaging apostles on the well-preserved dome's pendantis and beautiful coffering all around.





Dinner at Leidseplein again saw us spoilt for choice, but in the end we chose to go to an Argentinian steakhouse. Hah, budget eating's only for poor British students who spend it all on drink haha! Oh my, another memorable meal. This time the steak was marinated to perfection and just nicely medium rare the way I like it, the salad was fresh and sweet, the herby rice cooked to the right consistency, the red wine complementing the meal in every way, and of course what's a good dinner without wonderful company?

Tuesday 4th April - Keukenhof, Leiden
Another relatively early wakeup call to catch the train to Leiden Central, and from there the shuttle bus to Keukenhof, world class flower gardens. As I mentioned earlier, our trip was a bit too early to see all the tulips in their most magnificent outdoor state, but the gardens were a great walk in themselves. Unfortunately it decided to drizzle for a while, but we found the huge greenhouse soon enough, and it was nice and sunny by the time we came out again. (Info nugget: there are many, many, many, MANY different kinds of tulips.)

And oh my, the flowers were amazing. Temperature in the greehouse is controlled all year round so the tulips and hyacinths and crocuses and hydrangeas and cyclamens bloom gloriously, scattering their faintly intoxicating scent through the air, proudly showing off their stunning colours and perfect petals. If you're a flower girl - or flower boy, for that matter - go to Keukenhof. Need I repeat myself? Go to Keukenhof. And bring a good high resolution camera with plenty of battery and lots of memory cards. Let the photos speak for themselves.

After an overpriced lunch of Ajinomoto-vege soup and cold apple pie - the boys had tomato soup, rather interesting herring roll, smoked salmon roll, apricot tart and yummy chocolate cake - we headed out into the sunshine and the themed gardens. As hard as we looked, the Japanese garden remained elusively unfindable. Which brings me back to the spoiler in my initial introduction. Like true Malaysians we camwhored for a while on the wooden circles peppering one side of the lake, then decided it was time to head out. The afternoon drawing on, there was no chance for a last-minute trip to Deflt - Vermeer's home - so we took a leisurely stroll around Leiden itself, birthplace of Rembrandt.












Headed back to Amsterdam and Leidseplein again for dinner, and bumped into the Singaporean group on our way to the Dutch restaurant. JJ had an excellent beef roast with young jenever (Dutch gin) followed by dessert, I chose herring on a bed of mixed salad with Dutch pea soup; Shyan's dessert choice of buttered poffertjes with vanilla icecream washed down with Jaegermeister was undoubtedly one of his personal highlights.













Wednesday 5th April - Shopping, at last!
Perfect weather on the last day, of course. With our flight scheduled for 8pm, there wasn't quite enough leeway to satify the shopaholic in all three of us, but time sufficed for a detailed exploration of the long shop-filled street parallel to the Koningsplein canal. For those of you who love European fashion, sigh and go green with envy. Esprit, Mexx, Zara, Morgan de Toi among the bigger names, the stuff was classy European, oh yes. None of that trashy slutty cheap quality English stuff, thank you very much.













A quick nibble on our last journey to 1e Con. Huygenstraat, another quick bite at Amsterdam Schiphol's Wok to Walk (yes, our last meal in Holland was Burger King and Indon-Chinese takeaway), and we were on our way back home again. The silly French delayed our return to reality by more than an hour, and so by the time the cab dropped us back at our cribs, it was truly time for another holiday to recover from our holiday.

What a superb time I had despite our minor cash setback, and the credit goes to my two guys who made it remotely possible and thoroughly worthwhile. =D