Fashion Victim

The rain here unlike the tropical thunderstorms in Singapore, is soft, but cold to the touch.  I've learnt that it is not the most pleasant of experiences walking in the rain with your feet clad in a pair of Birkenstocks.  So today, I surrender to the sensibility of Wellies.

I am utterly confused when I looked at the Hunter website.  Good grief.  There are wellies in rainbow colors, of varying heights.  There are categories- garden, equestrian, summer etc etc.  I linger in the equestrian section, but then realize I am looking earnestly at the horse model and not the boots...  Delivery if placed before 3pm, is promised the very next day...(?)  On-line reviews of these boots are mixed.  If I am going to spend my husband's hard-earned money on a pair of rubber boots that will make me look like the complete fashion victim, best go check them out in the flesh.

Dogs are allowed in Selfridges.  (Score!)  Selfridges sits in a terrible location, but the store to my surprise, is really pretty nice.  The lighting is seductive, there is width,  height, fancy escalators.  It reminds me very much of Barney's New York.

Bruno patiently soaks in the sights & mood lighting.

The sales staff is exactly like the staff you encounter in Singapore.  They are very groomed, they huddle around each other, with their backs consistently turned towards the customer.  I like to think they really do not mean to be rude or "inattentive".  I keep telling myself, it's a cultural thing- people just don't smile as much outside of America.

Which is a pity.

Because if the girl I asked for help had shown an iota of interest or some energy in her job, instead of standing there refusing eye contact, and just vacuously twirling her hair with one finger, I would have bought two pairs of wellies, not one.  I would have also bought the Hunter socks and the protective cleaner that they sell.  I mean, if I am going to be a fashion victim, I might as well commit all possible faux pax in one swoop.

Geared up and ready.  I check the weather forecast for tomorrow-  Fantastic.  90 degrees high, with the symbol of a bright orange sun.

Back to Work

After all that adventuring in Margate, Bath, and a wonderful, restful Sunday spent with K, Buster & the canine residents of Shoreditch Park...

Photo credit-  K, Shoreditch Park

It is Monday again, and back to work we all go.

Squished in a taxi with today's loot.

I need utensils- I have been eating with a plastic fork that I keep re-washing and using.  For some reason food is not as palatable eaten this way.  Bruno needs a new jumper, a bowl, and snacks.  The flat needs attention, I have allowed it to sit for a while in neglect.

Today...

Today I break all previous records for hauling and foraging.  See that beaten-up piece of wood laid on the floor?  That is un perqueno armario mexicano- a small Mexican cupboard that I feel is just what the dining space needs.  Bruno is trying to be helpful.

  I move all the shopping bags into the flat first.  Next I bring Bruno inside.  Then, I manage to lift the armario onto its feet (activate core & pile).  Geez.  It is rather heavy.  If I drag it in, it is going to so scratch them floors.

(Me and my bright ideas!!!)

A bright idea!

Found myself some vintage cutlery.  Fantastic- no need to worry about polishing them.  The more deteriorated they look, the more beautiful.  If you come over for dinner, and don't like this?  Tough.  You'll have to eat with your hands.

Also found a wonderful vintage lamp with glass pieces so that my husband can read, while sitting on the chair, I found for him in Angel.

Enough procrastinating.  Off I go to CARRY and PLACE the armario mexicano...

TA DA! 

Very, very pleased and very proud of myself.  I texted my husband immediately.  

Me and my bright ideas!

There, my Summer 2013 Project is taking good shape.  It really is all about relationships in space and time.  Now I need a strong drink and to go rest my poor back and legs :)

Bye for now.

Saturday Lessons

Buoyed by Chaucer, TS Eliot and the sheer ease of train travel, I decided on impulse, to spend Saturday afternoon giving Jane Austen a chance.

I bought the cheapest tickets available.  Translation- this section of the train is kind of ghetto :)  

I am so not a Jane Austen fan.  I can appreciate (to a point) that she is depicting a period of time, capturing her society and their manners.  OK, I love the empire-waisted dresses and bonnets.  But I really cannot relate to all those poor women sitting around, drinking tea, plotting marriage.

One Royal Crescent.  One thoroughly drenched, shivering and still patient pup.

The weather report did say showers, but I was impulsive and hopeful.  I thought- it's ok, I can walk through drizzle, find the Royal Crescent, the Circus, meander through the streets of Unesco-listed Bath, cross the Pulteney Bridge, be dazzled by the Abbey and finally, perhaps try and ask if I could enter the Roman Baths with my dog in his bag.

Reality dashed all my bright ideas.  We got thoroughly soaked, I was worried about my shivering dog, we got turned away from a restaurant, we sought temporary shelter in the eves of period buildings, and even under a tree...

View from under the tree...

A passer-by in raincoat and umbrella stopped to admire Bruno and asked me, if he likes the rain.

!!!!!!!##@!???!!!!

We kept walking.  Three taxies whizzed by without stopping.  I wrapped Bruno up in his travel blankie (the size of a face towel...) and stuffed him into his bag to try and keep him warm.  In the end, I decided that the only way to get a cab was to activate the Last Century New Yorker.  And no, no, I didn't holler this time.  I simply stepped onto the street, right in front of an on-coming cab and flagged my free arm with conviction.

(Dear Reader, please do not be inspired to do all the things I do.  It may be detrimental to health.  It sometimes involves risks.  In the above circumstance, the cab was traveling slowly, Bath's streets are narrow, cobbly, I needed a quick action plan to save my dog from freezing.)

The cab driver didn't look too amused, but he was kind and polite enough to take us back to the station.  Upon arrival, there was a London-bound train to catch in 10-minutes.  There was a terrible crowd, but we managed to get on, find a seat, and arrived safely home.

Total time spent on the train:  3 hours

Total time spent in Bath:  50 minutes

Lessons learnt:

-  If you know you've made a bad decision, don't dwell, get moving, pronto.

("I will be calm.  I will be mistress of myself"- Sense & Sensibility, Jane Austen!)

-  When traveling with the patient and faithful dog, remember to always pack a towel and his raincoat.

A Pilgrimage, An Epiphany

To conclude my birthday celebrations, I decided to go on a pilgrimage.  

Last night, I stayed up (attempting) to read The Wasteland.  The Wasteland got me thinking of Chaucer and his Canterbury Tales.  I mean, Canterbury is only a 30-minute train ride away...

Oh train travel.  How do I love thee... let me count the ways!

Some of us who grew up in Singapore got very lucky at school.  At Katong Convent, our principal and the nuns who were still teaching, loved, loved the arts and literature, so school days had a creative, theatrical slant.  In that strange, "elite" humanities class at high school, we had native English teachers who drilled us in the greatest of British works, and the classics of the Western World.  Quite honestly, I was never drawn to that sort of writing.  In my heart, I wanted instead to hear the stories of my own people.  I wanted to read the voices of Singapore, of Asia, and the overseas Asian diaspora.

I kind of got excited when I saw the Cathedral.  I mean, look at it!  The Mothership!  I can't believe it actually exists, and that thousands have come since medieval times!

After that, we went on a boat tour around town, which we both enjoyed tremendously.

The boat man gave a very entertaining and enlightening commentary on the sights we saw, and put things in historical perspective.  I recognized many of the things he talked about- Chaucer, Marlowe, Dr Faustus, Henry VIII, Huguenots, St Francis of Assisi.  It was like being revisited by friendly ghosts from my youth.

But my mind kept drifting to my husband.  I kept thinking of what he has repeatedly said to me since the very first moment we met- All I want is for you is to be happy, just be happy.

Finally, on the River Stour, in a city as old as time, I get it!

"Love will not be constrained by mastery./  When mast'ry comes, the god of love anon/ Beateth his wings, and farewell, he is gone./  Love is a thing as any spirit free."  The Canterbury Tales, Chaucer

And,  "Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily/ Life is but a dream."

http://www.canterburyrivertours.co.uk

The Reading Rooms

My decision to visit Margate hinged on if The Reading Rooms would flex their no-dog (no infants, no children) policy for us.  Louise and Liam run this sweet B & B right off Old Town.  While I love to go a-wandering, I really cannot be bothered to schlep Bruno, Bruno's bag and my bag to a new place, if there isn't somewhere restful (ie aesthetically pleasing) for us to sleep.

A-Schelpping...

Louise asked me a few things about Bruno, then said the magical words- "OK, he can come!"

So we came.  And Bruno promptly makes himself at home.

The Reading Rooms is lovely, and reminds me of home.  We are on the second floor.  The room is spacious, the bathroom is large and "modern".  An extravagant breakfast is served in your room every morning.  

Gosh.  Extravagance!

If like me, you love crumbling textures, unvarnished, uneven stripped old floors, unfinished paint and period details, then The Reading Rooms is worth a visit, if ever you find yourself in the South East.

Psst- look at the period detailing on the radiators... WOW!

Love that they also stripped back the stairs (center) and painted the sides instead to create an illusion of a "carpet"- clever design trick. 

Can't help re-imagining the walls with faded, deteriorating wallpaper in a different hue- but that's just me obsessing about design.  If you're unfamiliar with period homes, please note that staying in a Grade II-listed building means that you can hear just about everything that goes on within and outside.  + you can feel the movement of people in the house, and they can feel you right back.

The Reading Rooms, 31 Hawley Square http://www.thereadingrooms.co.uk 

Bright Ideas

Each year, on my birthday, I have an urgent need to see the ocean.  I can't quite explain it.  I think the ocean that is blue and wide and far, is perhaps, life-affriming.  Didn't we all begin life anchored in waters before we began our descent?

Cornwall is not within my budget having spent half a month at Number 16.  Brighton is too popular for my liking.  My lovely friend K looked at the map and suggested, Margate.

Margate on the speed train from St Pancras is about 80 mins away from London.  I did some research.  There are two camps of thoughts.  That Margate is getting hip again with the new Turner Contemporary out by the sea front, independent art galleries, vintage stores and dog-friendly cafes.  The other perspective simply described Margate as, "East Berlin", or "ugly", "to be avoided".

My curiosity was piqued.  So here we are.  In Margate.

Remember TS Eliot?  The Wasteland?  "On Margate sands/ I can connect/ Nothing with nothing./"

I found a really sweet place to stay, and I was THIS close to pitching a travel story to my editor at The Straits Times.  The sky is clear, the ocean is glimpsed from the arriving train.  

Turner Contemporary

But when I take a walk around Old Town (described as "rejuvenated") and the sea front beyond the Turner Contemporary above, all I feel is a sense of neglect, and despondency.  

Yesterday, I admit, I was in Belgravia, London.  Today, I am in Margate, Kent.  I am not opposed to urban decay.  I mean, back in the day, I lived in the heart of the East Village before it became hip and overpriced.  When my husband first met me, he immediately relocated me to his hotel on the Upper East Side, where he had a view (one tree) of Central Park.

Bruno and I find a cafe where I can eat vegetarian for 4 pounds.  We are the only ones there.  We sit outside so that in the event someone tries to attack us, I can scream and run.  

Margate has all the ingredients for a revival- historical architecture, an amazing ocean, and contemporary art.  But if London's energy is inert, Margate feels as if it's given up on life altogether.  Many stores are boarded up, and there are groups of men shirtless, shouting, cursing away, drinking at the el fresco areas of Old Town.  I see a few tourists- lost and stunned.    

The B & B we are staying at faces a beautiful square.  But when we visit the square, we find it is filled with litter and dog poop.

Bruno treads carefully...

K texts me-  " What ARE you enjoying??"

I'm having a great birthday.  I am enjoying the ocean, Bruno's company, two glasses of wine, that at 43 years old, I am healthy, happy, unafraid.  The seagulls are madly calling out.  We make it back to our room safely.  I have some wonderful friends- you know who you are.  I am enjoying what it feels like to be alive, to be loved, and to be loving.

Some folks have come to Margate to shake things up.  I wish them all the very best.

Flowers

In the middle of the morning, the sun went away, and the rains came.  I looked out my little kitchen window and felt an incredible sense of peace, and joy.  Today is the eve of my birthday.  I whisper a big thank-you to God.

My husband doesn't care much for birthdays.  But he knows they mean something to me.  As I am whispering my thanks, the buzzer sounds, and I receive the unexpected gift of flowers.

I know it's from him.  He's not a person that likes grand gestures.  But his love is so encompassing and free.

In the afternoon, Bruno and I head out to Knightsbridge.  The Circle Line is functioning today.  We get out at South Kensington and don't bother switching tubes- it is too oppressive and hot.  We walk the rest of the way.

Ona has returned to Thailand and is no longer working on Sloane Street.  I meet Gilbert, who takes down my details.  Then we find some place cute to eat.  Chinese people like eating well on birthdays.  I think there's a superstition- I'm not sure what.  But best not fight traditions, especially in a "foreign" land.

Woah!  Two thumbs up for The Pantechnicon- the staff is so polite and warm, Bruno is instantly given a big bowl of water once we were seated.  Off a little neighborhood street, it is the perfect place to celebrate a quiet birthday.

I ordered the fish of the day so I could feed Bruno as well.

Decor is down- to- earth, unfussy.  The menu is interesting, and feels locally sourced.  Breakfast is served all day until 4pm.

A happy Bruno.  The Pantechnicon, 10 Motcomb Street

Getting home, we took a different bus.  The bus went past the Royal Albert Hall, Westfields Mall, and Holland Park.  So I got to see more of London.

Truth is, a long-distance relationship sucks.  I think it helps when the woman is not some damsel in constant distress.  The man is in Asia working his ass off so that he can provide for his family.  The woman is here to set things up, hold this end of their new life together.  As long as I keep busy, I don't have to feel all that heartache and longing.  But on the eve of my birthday, I suddenly wish he was riding the bus with Bruno and me :(

Then immediately I realize- if he was here, I won't be riding the bus!!!  I would be in a cab, or better still, DRIVING!!!

:0 !!!

When we get home, we find that the fan he ordered for me was also delivered!  Hooray!

 And again, the gift of Flowers... :)

And then I remember, the first time you kissed me on that cold New York day?  You tasted of, flowers.