stop this asia rollercoaster

The Appy Naturopath

2006-07-12T19:20:00.000-07:00

The Optimum Nutrition Bible – by Patrick Holford

Review by Karen Jackman
Appy Naturopath

Every day, we are bombarded with health information. It’s not a surprise. Health is a trillion dollar global business. Be it from newspaper columnists and television hosts telling us about the latest health regimen/ pill/ diet choice which will prevent cancer/diabetes/heart disease etc etc, or gaudy infomercials waxing lyrical about the “fat buster” tablet/shake which will “transform your life”.
Either you are extremely lucky or your are living a hermit’s life if you have not yet been accosted by an overzealous gym membership salesman.
You know the ones who herd us off the street in Orchard and then launch into a tirade about how we are not looking after our bodies properly – a status quo which can only be rectified (of course!) by buying their zillion dollar personal training contract.
While it is very encouraging to see that people are becoming more aware and enthusiastic about looking after their health in a “holistic” way (through diet/exercise/mindset and using natural immune system boosting remedies), not all the information is good (or it is skewed or over marketed at the expense being informative) … and some of it is just plain dodgy.

That is why when I was really relieved when I came across Patrick Holford’s compact, unassuming and unpretentious reference book: “The Optimum Nutrition Bible”.

Patrick Holford is a British nutritionist, author of more than 20 books on nutrition and health, and founder and director of the Institute of Optimum Nutrition in London.
Optimum Nutrition was his first book and it is one of those books which cuts through all the nonsense and confusion about what food and vitamins REALLY do.
Essentially it is a nutrition guide – so exercise and state of mind are not its central issues (although Holford mentions them and emphasizes their importance throughout).

Optimum Nutrition explains once and for all (under clear headings) exactly what a well-balanced diet really means, how to boost your immune system, how to increase your energy and fitness levels and … of course!: how to prevent cancer and turn back the ageing clock (my particular favourite) .
I have always been interested in health – having volunteered in hospitals in my hometown in South Africa when I was at school – and later immersed myself in medical issues as my local newspaper’s health journalist.
I am in the process of learning how to be a naturopath and am also a parent so Optimum Nutrition is a book someone like me finds essential.
Chapter 11 – The Vitamin Scandal – has been particularly useful to me so far.
The chapter reveals that as much as two thirds of the average calorie intake is from fat, sugar and refined flours.
Holford also tells us (backing up his comments by referring to studies and research) that most people are being short-changed on health due to inadequate intakes of vitamins and minerals… and that most people are putting up with feeling “all right” (as opposed to feeling brilliant) without even realizing that they can use dietary changes to improve their health.
The reader can quickly scan through a list of vitamins and minerals – find out what each one does and what foods contain them. Did you know that broccoli was such a brilliant vegetable?
It's a good source of Vitamin A, and Vitamin C, potassium, folacin, iron and fiber. Broccoli has as much calcium ounce per ounce as milk and contains a few important phytochemicals: beta-carotene, indoles and isothiocyanates. Phytochemicals prevent carcinogens (cancer causing substances) from forming. They also stop carcinogens from getting to target cells and help boost enzymes that detoxify carcinogens. It contains so many nutrients – a plate of that every day and you will be firing on all cylinders! Needless to say, I have negotiated this vegetable into my six-year-old’s daily diet.
He eats the “tree veggie” with long teeth but happy in the knowledge that he no longer has to tuck into peas, corn and aubergines until further notice.

Holford has a comprehensive supplementation regime for almost every illness and he recommends these are followed BEFORE treatment via conventional medicine (I would not recommend this if your illness is life-threatening, by the way). I am about to launch on his regime for PMS …. I’ll keep you posted!
Meanwhile, you can pick up this book on Amazon.com.

Hornet Hell...

2006-06-26T06:49:00.000-07:00

I have never been stung by a hornet but judging by the amount of screaming, tearing off of clothes and agonised facial expressions that go on when such a thing happens - I reckon it's PRETTY painful.

My brave little six year old got stung good and proper yesterday while he was standing outside with his friends... He was about to go for a bike ride around our leafy estate with his friend Arthur-- whose mom was accompanying them.
I was working - as usual - tapping away on my computer - when I heard a blood curdling screech.
I jumped up - ran to the window to see Arthurs mum running down the road tearing off her shirt ...
I raced down the stairs as the screeching continued - this time it was coming from Sam - He was in agony..
Little did the little group know was they had been standing near a very very large hornet's nest and obviously the hornets weren't too happy abou it.

Sam had been stung BADLY on his bottom - God only knows how the evil little black and yellow bug got in there.. and Arthur's mum had taken two hits under her arm.
The insect left horrible red sores where it had stung them..
These stings are nothing like bee stings - SAm has endured one of those as well when we visted Taman Nagara jungle in Malaysia last year which Tea Tree oil quickly relieved.

This was a NUMBER 10 sting.
He had also taken a hit on his hand... though not as bad.
I rushed around trying to find some tea tree oil in the flat - but it didnt really help - and all arthurs mum wanted to do was go home - the poor woman was in tears. A passing jogger corralled the panicked group away from the nest - now swarming with the horrible things - each one more than happy to deliver another dose of venom at any provocation.

I got poor little sam upstairs, administered ice on his sore bottom (now rapidly growing into a big red sore the size of a side plate on his little bottom)
gave him some chocholate and fed him pizza -- I love this little chap so!

Transcendig crap - Singapore Idol

2006-06-23T09:57:00.000-07:00

Let me start by saying I like crap television - but I have just witnessed a programme that transcends 'crap' … infact, this could be a weapon of mass destruction! Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together for 'SINGAPORE IDOL'.
NEVER, EVER have I seen such a shoddy piece of rubbish ….
The contestants? AWFUL
The judges? TERRIBLE
The sets? DRAB
The hosts? PITIFUL
Seriously, if you think the British/American/Indian/Iraqi/Australian/NZ etc etc versions are bad - you have seen nothing yet.
Talentless hopeful, after talentless hopeful slowly shuffle their feet into the Concentration Campesqe studio to warble lyrics that are either …
1. Unintelligible
2. Mumbled
3. Wrong
4. Singlish [a 'special' version of English where meaning and understanding often gets 'lost in translation'. My fave? The song 'Can't Fight The Moonlight' was sung as 'Camp Fire The Moonlight]
What's worse is that most of them are either dressed in 1994 'New Kids On The Block' clothing OR the latest clobber from 'Accountants World' magazine.
However, even worse than that are the FOUR judges.
I think there's four because Asians are notoriously thin and so it takes 2 to make up the equivalent size of American Idol's resident chubby, Randy Jackson … however, what these 4 lack in size, they more than make up for in absolutely annoyance.
I have no idea what the judges are 'famous' for - because lets be honest, Singapore has hardly set the World alight with it's musical talent - however we have 2 men and 2 women [of which one of the men and women are EX husband and wife - and judging by how camp the bloke is, I am not in the least surprised] who sit there and say one of the following comments after each hopeful has murdered a particularly well-known song …
1. That was really entertaining
2. That was really awful
3. You have real talent
That's it … that's all they say … each and every time - except they always say the wrong comment to the wrong person.
Seriously, in the whole competition there's only 3 people with a modicum of talent and the best [a 16 year old girl] was almost kicked out the first round because - get this - the judges felt she made the song 'her own'. In other words, because she sang a song in a way that really represented her, she was seen as poor as they wanted it to be sung 'just like the original'. It's Singapore Idol, not Singapore Imitation. JEEZ!!!!
Finally there's the hosts - heaven help us!
Here are a couple of 'lads' who are trying so hard to be 'hip 'n' happening' but come across like a damp squid. What's worse is they have all the wit of a deaf mute - so you are subjected to 90 mins of the sort of painful television last witnessed in the 80's when we had a 'Telethon' every week for some sort of charity that needed attention.
I like Singapore - I like Asia - but seriously, this show is more dangerous than a snuff flick!!! Saying that, for a country that celebrates its own blandness, getting me to rant and rave like a madmen is a major step forward - as the words 'passion' and 'Singapore' are rarely uttered together.

Spitting black cobras ... and 10 foot barge pole is suddenly on hand

2006-06-01T23:11:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how items we need suddenly become available when we really need them.
You remember watching road runner cartoons and the wiley coyote always seems to have the latest roadrunner killing technology at hand despite living in a desert.
(Thanks to a mail order membership from Acme)
Anyway.. This afternoon my helper came across a rare black spitting cobra doing its thing slithering about on the ground floor outside stairwell.
Naturally it caused her much consternation as - well the creature is extremely poisionous and can kill you quite quickly.. first by rendering you unconscious and then ... well i am not too sure - but the end result is your death.
I was upstairs working and making up with my boyfriend via msn - so I was multi-tasked out at the time - so didnt respond to her call right away.
When I did go downstairs, I found a very dead cobra with its head smashed in in the garden outside - a 10 foot pole rammed into the back of its head.
The funny thing is I have never seen the pole before and it amazed me that in a life and death situation things like that just seem to be available -- They are never available when its just a normal non-life threatening situaiton - like when you need a pair of scissors to open the washing powder box or a can opener for the tin of soup... Usually then u have to resort to improvising with a knife or something - and then you end up stabbing yourself in the hand and risk bleeding to death - but life's like that......

Falling on my samurai sword

2006-05-30T20:44:00.001-07:00

The 2006 cyclone season is here, and if you're a resident of Florida, you know what that means: that you have the IQ of a meat ball.
If you had any brain cells, you should now be living in a less life threatening city, such as Johannesburg - or even Bagdad. This is especially true after last season, which was so bad that we went through the alphabet of official names and had to refer to the last batch of storms by making primitive grunting sounds.

I am in the world's safest and most anal retentive city (except of course if you don't count Perth) - Singapore. A little country where sales of laxatives must have a significant impact on the GDP. Ok I am being a little harsh and probably more crabby than I usually am.

Look on the bright side - I like to tell myself - I am not about to be crushed or drowned by a tsunami or a cyclone... or covered in molten lava from an erupting volcano... I am more likely to fall on my samarai sword (you know the one i keep in the bedroom cupboard) after another frustrating encounter with tunnel vision thinking...

wessex paradise - bohemian bro

2006-05-18T01:47:00.000-07:00

I live in a magical garden in the middle of a concrete jungle.
It's called, rather boringly, wessex estate, and the name gives absolutely no hint of what this beautiful place is like.
Wessex gardens consists of a collection of "black and white" walk-up three story apartment blocks and houses which date back to pre-second world war.
They were built during the British rule of Singapore and the blocks and houses are surrounded and shaded by 200 year old trees with wide, long branches .... which are also home to families of squirrels, birds, strange looking chamelions with orange heads, lizards, insects (ok the mozzies arent that attractive) ... yes a few snakes... and a host of symbiotic plants which have nestled themselves along hteir lenght.
I look out of my window every day and I see greeen... my favourite colour - the colour of life and balance and calm.
Wessex is such an oddity in singapore as most of the island is modern and accommodation is in the form of high rise apartments - be they governement or private condominiums. Indeed there have been rumours about the demolition of wessex for more than a decade - according to my neighbour who has lived on the estate for about 18 years.
You see the land on which wessex is built (it is situated towards the west of the island) is very valuable and there is a lot of it. The apartments were built in a time when it was not necessary to squeeze as many people into a small area as possible. There are several "unused" football sized fields around the estate. Most chinese locals (chinese make up 80 per cent of the population) dont like living in hte apartments because they are old and you cant get cable. Most of the residents are either expat, malay, indian ... although there are a few chinese.
There was talk of demolishing it and putting up condos, there was talk of building horrible government flats on the "football fields" - god onlyknows what hell that would be...
but for the moment we are safe.
Somebody high up in the government decision making offices decided that singapore needed to nurture more creativity amongst its peoples. So as a result Wessex has now been classified "Bohemian" and for that reason alone ... the arent messing with us at the moment.
Mind you, my friend is a speech therapist, and the other neighbour sells washing machines at Harvey Norman ... although there is an artist downstairs who grinds away on funny looking monolithic scultures which she leaves on her patio ... so we are all hoping she will carry the Bohemian torch for all of us.
I am doing my bit by burning loads of incense and hanging chimes in the entrance way...
Boho rules !

pula ubin - the last piece of "old"

2006-05-10T23:48:00.000-07:00

I don’t even know HOW I found out about Pulau Ubin – but it wasn’t from a flashy tourist marketing campaign.And if you "Google" the island, you won’t find very much about it. It’s just one of those word-of-mouth kind of places.Pulau Ubin (Granite Island) is a small Singaporean island just a 10-minute bumboat ride from the "mainland".It's the modern, first world city-state’s last piece of old ... and a real-time glimpse into what things must have been like before Singapore’s independence from Malaysia in 1965.
Situated northeast of Singapore in the Johor Straits, with a population of about 200, Pulau Ubin gives one the distinct feeling that mainland Singapore doesn’t really want to admit the place is still there. Akin to a decrepit old family pet ... You love it because you have a history together, but you don’t really have much to do with it anymore. I have been there six or seven times during the past year, and love it more with each visit.
Stepping off the bumboat onto the Pulau Ubin pier is like stepping into a 1950s kampung (although I was nowhere near being born yet then). Kampung is Malay and Indonesian for “village”.
Singaporeans lived in a collection of kampungs prior to its modernisation and the subsequent construction of high rise residential apartment blocks.

Here, though, there are no shopping malls, no flashy towers, no slickly-dressed women in pointy-toed court shoes (except maybe the odd mainland visitor), no sports cars and certainly no ATMs. Residents rely on wells for water and noisy diesel generators for electricity.The island is largely undeveloped bush and forest land - and there are cycling tracks with lead through it. A cycling trip takes you to the quarries, under the cool trees and past the waving locals in quaint old wooden shacks. (who sell you cold drinks at inflated prices).

Until recently, some of the island's inhabitants earned their living by keeping chickens.
This came to a swift end, however, during the bird flu scare and there are no more chickens on the island - except maybe the odd one which escaped.The only vehicles which use the narrow tarred roads are mostly bombed out cars and minivans, bombed out motorbikes and bombed out bicycles (which are hired out to the visitors for $5 a pop). A favourite rest stop of mine is the Buddhist temple.
You have to negotiate a very steep hill just before you arrive there, so I generally bowl into the place panting and sweaty.
The temple has paint peeling off the walls and concrete floors covered by worn woven carpets. The monks are extremely serene and the whole place smells deliciously of incense.Not far away, is a strange little house which looks like it might have belonged to a British settler from the 18oos. It would be perfect if you lived in a place which snowed ... the roof is pitched to allow snow to slide off it during winter!
If you are lucky you will find the smiling old man who lives in a ramshackle shack and is the proud owner of a very large, fat, black pig. She smells horrendous, is bad tempered and plain mean but the kids love her.
You will also be very lucky if you stumble upon the “Secret Garden” which is tucked away near a collection of vegetable patches guarded by scarecrows.
It really is secret, denoted as such by a large wooden sign proclaiming so at its entrance. I discovered it on my fourth trip to Pulau Ubin. It is a magical place straight out of something in a children’s story book, complete with its own stone well and a collection of gloriously aromatic flowers and herbs.
Pulau Ubin one of the few places one can go in Singapore which doesn’t involve taking on crammed shopping malls and spending lots of money.
I go to there whenever I can spare at least half a day to get out to the east of Singapore to Changi village where you catch the bumboat.If you are not up to cycling, there are mini-busses which go around the island but essentially cycling is the way to go to get the most out of the day.
I prefer it to the glamour of five-star Sentosa and recommend it be visited at least once before it’s suddenly "discovered and revamped" ... and a much loved piece of old is lost forever.

Easy riders of Vietnam ....

2006-03-28T04:43:00.000-08:00

If you're looking to get away from civilization and experience the serenity that comes from being out in nature's wild beauty and having the vast majority of the blood sucked out of your body by desperate mosquitoes, then you should try a motor bike tour through rural Vietnam.

I did recently with my teenage son, David.
We took the potholed highways and bi-ways on our .Boston bikes with two of Vietnam’s “easyriders”.
While I am sure Steve McQueen must have been turning in his grave to a pair of wannabe hell’s angels tour the countryside trying very hard to look cool and failing miserably.

diving sissy

2006-03-06T04:55:00.000-08:00

For someone who has always politely opted out of scuba diving whenever the opportunity presented itself in the past, going on my first dive with Jan was a surprisingly painless affair.

I am no sissy, mind.
I have done plenty of adrenaline junkie kind of things. This includes flinging myself out of an airplane wearing an oversized jumpsuit and a pair of boots three sizes too big, shooting the rapids on the Zambezi River, hang-gliding off Table Mountain (holding a fidgety bulldog in my arms – very weird but true), climbing down ice crevasses in the Antarctic …and skidding down the side of a snow-covered mountain on an old mattress.

But the thought of donning a heavy oxygen tank, mask and snorkel and submerging myself many metres below the surface of the ocean, has always filled me with horror.

I was worried about feeling claustrophobic, panicking and freaking out. I imagined myself shooting up to the surface and then getting the infamous “bends” and eventually dying a horrible, excruciating death writhing around in agony on the beach.

Not to mention the embarrassment of it all.

In reality, things couldn’t have been tamer and more, well pleasant, really.

After a short training session, Jan and I hit the water and before I knew it, I was 60 metres off shore and exploring an artificial reef 6 metres below the surface.

The “vis” (visibility) as the old diving hands like to refer to it, was not very good on my day out apparently. But as a novice, I was more than happy to hang out with the marine life whether I could see them clearly or not. I was particularly taken by the large, silver pan-sized fish with thick lips glided past gracefully pretending not to notice the strange, bubble blowing invader on the reef.

Getting the breathing right was the most important thing and knowing how to control one’s buoyancy. I wasn’t too bad at that. Jan explained that most people end up either floating helplessly on the surface or lying like a brick on the sea bed.

And apparently women with larger behinds are better at controlling buoyancy – but I am hoping that is just an old wife’s tale.

All in all, I was so taken by the experience, I completely forgot about panicking or feeling claustrophobic… And I didn’t even think about sharks once…

Going down under......

2006-03-02T05:53:00.000-08:00

For someone who has always politely opted out of scuba diving whenever the opportunity presented itself in the past, going on my first dive with Jan was a surprisingly painless affair.
I am no sissy, mind. I have done plenty of adrenaline junkie kind of things. This includes flinging myself out of an airplane wearing an oversized jumpsuit and a pair of boots three sizes too big, shooting the rapids on the Zambezi River, hang-gliding off Table Mountain (holding a fidgety bulldog – very weird but true), climbing down ice crevasses in the Antarctic …and skidding down the side of a snow-covered mountain on an old mattress.
But the thought of donning a heavy oxygen tank, mask and snorkel and submerging myself many metres below the surface of the ocean, has always filled me with horror.
I was worried about feeling claustrophobic, panicking and freaking out. I imagined myself shooting up to the surface and then getting the infamous “bends” and eventually dying a horrible, excruciating death writhing around in agony on the beach.
Not to mention the embarrassment of it all.
In reality, things couldn’t have been tamer and more, well pleasant, really.
After a short training session, Jan and I hit the water and before I knew it, I was 60 metres off shore and exploring an artificial reef 6 metres below the surface.
The “vis” (visibility) as the old diving hands like to refer to it, was not very good on my day out apparently. But as a novice, I was more than happy to hang out with the marine life whether I could see them clearly or not. I was particularly taken by the large, silver pan-sized fish with thick lips glided past gracefully pretending not to notice the strange, bubble blowing invader on the reef.
Getting the breathing right was the most important thing and knowing how to control one’s buoyancy. I wasn’t too bad at that. Jan explained that most people end up either floating helplessly on the surface or lying like a brick on the sea bed.
And apparently women with larger behinds are better at controlling buoyancy – but I am hoping that is just an old wife’s tale.
All in all, I was so taken by the experience, I completely forgot about panicking or feeling claustrophobic… And I didn’t even think about sharks once…

Hair to dye for

2006-02-25T05:22:00.000-08:00

I vowed never to dye my hair. I'd wear my grey proudly, I said, like a testament to natural living and pride in my age, experience and accomplishments. Then came the morning, about five years ago, when I actually found a few of those unsightly strands. They seemed to pop up overnight, striping my dark brown mane and mocking my resolve. I kissed my pride goodbye and made a beeline for the hairdresser.

Blue Sky Break

2006-02-24T23:09:00.000-08:00

Fancy a blue-sky break in a place where mobile telephones and computers don’t exist? A gutsy British mum who settled in Malaysia’s Sibu Island in the early 90s, has created a environmentally protected beach paradise where it hardly ever rains.

Thirteen years ago, Linda Wills stood on an idyllic Malaysian beach, stared across the South China Sea and made a tough decision.
Recently widowed, Linda was faced with the dilemma of whether to remain on the remote beach resort which she had intended to refurbish and run with her diver/photographer husband, Daniel – or return “home” to England.
Daniel was killed in a ski boat accident in 1993 and, alone in a foreign country and left with two small children to raise, most people assumed Linda would return to England
She didn’t.
Instead, she employed a team of local staff – some of whom are still working with her today – and began the demanding, but extremely satisfying job of creating the Sea Gypsy Village Resort and Dive Base.
“Actually, it wasn’t so hard a decision to make, now that I look back!” she laughs, “Who wouldn’t want to live on a beach paradise?”
Today, Pulau Sibu Island [SG11] ’s Sea Gypsy Village Resort attracts visitors from across Asia and all over the world.
It seems to have found a comfortable niche as a getaway for overworked city dwellers from Singapore, Kuala Lumpar, Bangkok and Hong Kong who need to escape to a rustic beach paradise for a few days.
The island forms part of the Seribuat chain and is 12km off the east coast of the west peninsular of Malaysia. It is shaped like a triangular hour glass, about 6km long and never more than 1km wide it's whole length. The area around Pulau Sibu is part of a protected Marine Park.
The small inlet at Pulau Sibu also makes it the ideal place for aspirant divers – especially kids and teens – to test the waters for the first time in a non-threatening setting.
The only way to get there from the mainland is via small motorised longboats which depart from the pier at Tanjong Leman when there are enough passengers onboard.
When I visited there recently, driving up from Singapore, (they provide transport for just 70 ringgit per person, return) the Tanjong Leman boat sputtered around the short bluff into Gypsy at about 10pm. [SG12]
We were met by resident dive master/stand-in manager/and all-round nice guy, Sam Smith.
Sam, who is also English, is the man you go to when you need to know something, want to organize an activity or just feel like a friendly chat. He is even known to occasionally play with fire to keep the guests entertained should the need arise. This was a skill he learned on another beach “somewhere far, far away”, he told us enigmatically.
The “hub” of Sea Gypsy is the dining room, bar and lounge area. This is where guests are taken when they first arrive and is also especially designed to promote: DOING NOTHING.
There are no cars, no phones, no internet or no computers at Sea Gypsy.
But if you really must make a phone call on your hand phone, you have to trudge through the jungle to the other side of the island so you have line of sight to the mainland.
The staff, and especially Linda, encourages guests to “leave all that guff at home”.
The hub, with its comfortable couches set under an open-air awning and fantastic long wooden bar stretching along the rear, shouts: “Chill out here!”
And, apart from experiencing my very first mini scuba dive – that is pretty much exactly what I did.
Sea Gypsy offers a choice of sea-facing accommodation, including quaint Malay-style chalets on stilts with en-suite bathrooms (I stayed in one of those), smaller A-frame huts, and specially constructed family sized dorm-chalets with huge en-suite bathrooms.
“Families need big bathrooms and we understand that,” says Linda.
The decor is simple but adequate and in harmony and keeping with the natural style and colours of the environment.
“We choose to have large overhead fans and 24 hour electricity rather than air conditioning,” says Linda, “There is absolutely nothing nicer than going to sleep with the windows open listening to the sound of the ocean and the rustle of the palm trees. That's what an island holiday is all about!”
Sea Gypsy also has a fully licensed bar in “Dan's Dive” and I took full advantage of the chance to watch the moon rise while slowly sipping several very excellently put together cocktails. The bar is open as long as any guests would like to drink. Hanif, a master cocktail maker, is happy to ply guests with a range of the resort’s own creations (as well as the old favourites), including the Virgin Sibu Surprise (!) and the very, very more-ish Frozen Banana Cream Gypsy.
It is just the thing for a first time diver who is nervous about heading for watery depths the next day, as I was.
Jan Gerstel is Sea Gypsy’s dive base leader and instructor. He has worked for Linda intermittently for the past couple of years. The diving around Pulau Sibu is superb with wide ranging fields of soft corals that make a kaleidoscope of colours, countless types of hard corals and an astounding variety of marine life. The visibility can vary from 25m to 3m, averaging out at around 10m.

“Unfortunately,” says Linda, “There seems to be very little rhyme or reason nowadays as to when the visibility will be good or bad as our weather patterns have changed and we can't quite figure it all out!”
For someone who has always politely opted out of scuba diving whenever the opportunity presented itself in the past, going on my first dive with Jan was incredibly painless and actually very enjoyable experience.
And I thought I would be trembling through the whole thing – particularly as I was worried about feeling claustrophobic having a mask and snorkel strapped to my head and heavy tanks on my back. After a short training session, we hit the water and before I knew it, I was 60 metres off shore and exploring an artificial reef 6 metres below the surface.
And I didn’t even think about sharks once…
Sea Gypsy is set in a 5 acre clearing of jungle with plenty of shade trees and garden. The beach is about 350 metres long and has soft golden sand which continues out into the sea making swimming both safe and comfortable.
Says Linda: “It might have seemed crazy on the surface to others, but my children grew up running around free on a beach in the sun. They are surrounded by people who loved them and I have a crew of loyal staff. Who wouldn’t want a life like mine?”
How to Get there:
If you are coming from Hong Kong, the best is to fly to either Senai Airport, Johor Bahru, Malaysia or Changi Airport, Singapore. Sea Gypsy can arrange for a pick up from either airport. It uses a 10-seater mini buses and the cost of 330 ringgit is for the bus, not per person! Travel time to Tanjong Leman is three hours. The boat ride takes about 15 minutes. Contact Linda Wills to make a reservation at +60 7 222 8642 or email: enquiries@siburesort.com

China's blue collar kids

2006-02-24T22:34:00.000-08:00

A syndicate of child smugglers was arrested here recently ... for running a racket whereby they would transfer children via Singapore from China to the US where their parents are employed as blue collar workers.
The parents are not legally allowed to have their babies with them as they fulfil their overseas contracts - but were obviously missing them terribly to go to such lengths as to employ smugglers.
The report - in the Straits Times this Saturday - was an unemotional account of how the errant smugglers were caught --but the undertone in the report insinuated that they were no-good baddies on a par with slave traders or prostitute traffickers. While messing with immigration issues in Singapore - which is surrounded by unstable Asian countries with millions of people who would love to come to the wealthy island state in search of a better life - bla bla -- is a big NO NO -- one cant help feeling some compassion for these families who have been separated in such circumstances . The children were put on planes - with false singaporean passports - (no visa required for singaoreans go to the US) in Changi Airport -- It's really a sad state of the world when a country like the US - which is supposed to be the compassionate "Good Guy" who we are all supposed to look up to - is keeping young children from their mothers and fathers - all in the name of making a buck!! \

Beware of Singapore's killer dogs

2006-02-24T22:27:00.000-08:00

I read in the paper today - the Straits Times -- about a man who punched a woman in the face because he was afraid her "vicious" dog was going to attack his wife and his little poodle.
The man - the report was quick to note - was a PR of European descent , and his victim - a singaorean chinese woman.
The man was fined $1000 .... which is more than reasonable - you dont go around punching people in the face -- especially not somewhere like singapore -- ... But the picture of the offending "killer dog" ws a picture of a golden retriever -- known to be among the most placid breed in canine existence!!
Please!!!! Retrievers wouldnt even know how to LOOK scary let alone attack a stranger in the street.
Sometimes we dont realise how safe singaporean society really is -- we start looking for things to be afraid of!

Superman takes a break

2005-08-01T20:45:00.000-07:00

Superman takes a break
By Karen Jackman
Pics supplied by Karen Jackman

Even superheroes need a break sometimes … and what better place for Superman or Batman – and even mere mortals – to visit than the action-packed jungles of Malaysia’s Taman Negara?

A Canadian anthropologist on a trekking holiday in Taman Negara mentioned, in passing, to her fellow trekkers that she was writing a book detailing what people packed when they went on vacation.
The book’s obvious purpose – not surprising coming from an anthropologist – was not really to provide an itinerary of what travelers could fit into a small suitcase, but what their contents revealed about them as people.
While items such as tea tree oil for stings and bites, sun block and a good book featured high on my Taman Negara list, my five-year-old companion saw things a little differently.
What is more important to include in your backpack – when trekking, canopy walking, camping, shooting the rapids, or hanging out with bats and bugs are on the to-do list– than one’s superhero outfit collection?
We recently went on a three day getaway to Malaysia’s “premier and largest national park”, me with a mind to taking a break from work – and for Superman to take a few days off from saving the world.
The park has a few tour operators to choose from. All of them are good, though don’t expect five star luxury. It’s not that kind of place.
We ended up choosing NKS Travel, run by a very friendly tour organiser named Kenny who is based in Kuala Lumpur. His operation is reliable and efficient despite the convoluted journey (plane or train, then several busses, a short stay in a Jerantut hotel and then a three hour ride on a raft to the HQ village of Kuala Tahan) involved with actually getting to Taman Negara. My advice: relax and enjoy the journey.
We caught the train out of Singapore which leaves every evening at about 9pm (it is equipped with sleeping berths). The train takes about seven hours to reach Jerantut.
Said to be the world’s oldest tropical rainforest, at 130 million years old, the Taman Negara forests were declared for conservation in 1938 and covers more than 4,343 square kilometres of virgin forest. It spans across three states Kelantan, Terengganu and Pahang – and is situated in the centre of the Peninsula Malaysia. It is a haven for hundreds of species of wildlife, birds, plants and, of course, bugs.
Local conservationists are proud of their impressive insect collection, and visitors to the park are treated to regular night treks which focus specifically on bug watching. Creatures vary from fat, fierce red ants which march determinedly along the forest floor, occasionally attaching themselves to passing tourists’ shoelaces, climbing up their legs to take small, vicious bites from the presumably sought-after flesh of the inner thigh, black and yellow creatures of all shapes and sizes which, according to the trek and tour guides, are built to look more fierce than they actually are, to leeches which suck the blood from your ankles before you are even aware of it.
A visit to the “bat cave” – called Gua Telinga (Ear Cave) – is a must. It takes about three hours to get there from Kuala Tahan and involves a ride on a raft, an easy forest walk followed by some energetic cave clambering. It’s easier to negotiate if you are reasonably fit and not too overweight or large as some of the clambering spaces are quite narrow inside the caves. The guides are very good, however, and will happily help you out if you find yourself in a tight spot. The cave ceilings are filled with hundreds of resting bats – much to the glee of the resident superhero (in Batman gear, naturally). Some of them flit about past your face, (yes, just like in Batman Begins) but they are not dangerous and certainly nothing to be afraid of. Apparently, there are also giant toads and bat-eating snakes which have lived in there since prehistoric times, but we didn’t actually see any of those.
Sadly for visitors, there aren’t too many larger animals in the area where tourists visit – even the odd monkey, and certainly no tigers.
The animals have sensibly made their homes deep in areas where tourists fear to go.
The canopy walk is one of the anchor activities for short stay visitors. Trek through the forest to the top of hill, Bukit Teresek. On the way, is the canopy walkway, the longest in the world. It is best to take a guide with you if you are a small group as the trail can get confusing.
Running the rapids is a favourite activity, though it is fairly tame. Travel upstream from Kuala Tahan and experience 45 minutes through seven sets of swirling rapids down 9.1km.
After any one of these high-energy sojourns, it was good to get back to home base at Kuala Tahan. We stayed in a comfortable, air-conditioned chalet, in the rustic resort of Ekoton. Taman Negara is a near-perfect combination of quiet getaway, but with plenty to do if you want – just the place to get way from the hurly-burly of city living – and ideal even for superman to recharge his batteries.

Taman Negara… It’s a jungle out there

2005-08-01T20:12:00.000-07:00

Trekking, canopy walking, camping, shooting the rapids, or hanging out with bats and bugs… A getaway to Malaysia’s Taman Negara – the world’s oldest primary forest … is certainly far from dull.
“Ooo my … G*d! That thing is huge…don’t move dear … let it crawl off your head naturally… Mavis ... come and look at this! It’s HUGE.”
Mavis trotted excitedly over, joined by an equally eager group of jungle trekkers, each trying to peek at the multi-legged, multi-coloured monster arachnid perched elegantly on the rim of my fake Gucci sunglasses.
It’s as certain as death and taxes.
If you are going to step out into the WILDS, and especially into something as intense and magnificent as a primary forest jungle like the one in Malaysia’s Taman Negara, you have to face the fact that you are going to get bitten/stung/scratched/bruised and possibly mauled, by a WILD creature.

Ok it’s highly unlikely you will be mauled since most of the Indo Chinese tigers have been wiped out … (there are only less than 200 left and they are protected and rarely seen so getting taken out by one of them would be a bit of an honour). During the late 90s, a research team went on an expedition to find out just how many tigers there are in Taman Negara. Until they took up the challenge, the population status of the Panthera tigris had never been scientifically documented.

But, rest assured, there are plenty of other creatures keen to target you, although nothing particularly life threatening (as I was assured by the experienced Taman Negara resident tour guide, Sharif). The experience of being in a place still so peaceful and natural and relatively untouched by “progress” makes it all worth the discomfort… really.
I recently went on a three day getaway to Malaysia’s “premier and largest national park”, with a mind to do some jungle trekking, rafting and animal watching.
The park has a few tour operators to choose from. All of them are pretty good, though don’t expect five star luxury. It’s not that kind of place.
I ended up choosing NKS Travel, run by a very friendly tour organiser named Kenny who is based in Kuala Lumpar. His operation is reliable and efficient despite the convoluted journey (plane or train, then several busses, a short stay in a Jerantut hotel and then a three hour ride on a raft to the HQ village of Kuala Tahan) involved with actually getting to Taman Negara. My advice: relax and enjoy the journey.
Said to be the world’s oldest tropical rainforest, at 130 million years old, the forests were declared for conservation in 1938 and covers more than 4,343 square kilometres of primary, virgin forest, (so, amazingly, there are no mosquitoes believe it or not, but the red fire ants make up for them). It spans across three states Kelantan, Terengganu and Pahang – and is situated in the centre of the Peninsula Malaysia. Taman Negara (which literally means National Park) is the most extensive protected area of pristine, lowland, evergreen rainforest in the country. The park originated from a Pahang State Legislation in 1925 and in the district of Jerantut.
In 1938, the Sultan of Pahang, Terengganu and Kelantan set aside the present area, and named it the King George V National Park. After Independence, the name was changed to Taman Negara. The purpose of Taman Negara is “to utilise the land within the park in perpetuity, for the propagation, protection and preservation of indigenous flora and fauna”.
It is a haven for hundreds of species of wildlife, birds, plants and … bugs.
Which brings me back to the rather tense situation which was taking place around a burnt out log in a Orang Asli tribal settlement – deep in the heart of the jungle.
The Orang Asli, who generously allow tourists to visit them and, surprisingly, don’t ask people for money in return, are the original nomadic inhabitants of Taman Negara. They happily allow visitors to have a go on their poisonous blow pipes and also demonstrate how they can successfully start a fire without using matches. I know it sounds cheesy, but it’s great.
It was during a fire-making demonstration that Mavis, a school teacher from Canada, and her friends were inspecting the enormous, hairy spider that was sitting on my head.
I was about to have a panic attack when Sharif came to rescue. Striding over, he swiped the sunglasses off my face and tossed them into the jungle.
All heads turned to follow the path of the airborne arachnid – and my Guccis – into the undergrowth.
Taman Negara conservationists are proud of their impressive bug collection, and visitors to the park are treated to regular night treks which focus specifically on bug watching. Crawly creatures vary from fat, fierce red ants which march determinedly along the forest floor, occasionally attaching themselves to passing tourists’ shoelaces, climbing up their legs to take small, vicious bites from the presumably sought-after flesh of the inner thigh, black and yellow creatures of all shapes and sizes which, according to the knowledgeable trek and tour guides who live and work in the forest, are built to look more fierce than they actually are, to leeches which suck the blood from your ankles before you are even aware of it.
It was on one of these night crawler treks that I came across a particularly interesting looking cockroach-like bug. Thankfully, it was not yellow and black – more like beige stripes with black beady eyes – impressive.
The canopy walk is one of the anchor activities for short stay visitors. Trek through the forest to the top of hill, Bukit Teresek. On the way, is the canopy walkway, the longest in the world. Best to take a guide with you if you are a small group as the trail gets confusing.
Rapid running is one of the favourite activities for visitors, though it is fairly tame. Travel upstream from Kuala Tahan and experience 45 minutes through seven sets of swirling rapids down 9.1 kilometres.
A visit to the “bat cave” – called Gua Telinga (Ear Cave) – is a must. It takes about three hours and involves a ride on a raft, an easy forest walk followed by some energetic cave clambering. You should be reasonably fit and not too overweight or large as some of the clambering spaces are quite narrow inside the caves. The guides are very good, however, and will happily help you out if you find yourself in a tight spot. The cave ceilings are filled with hundreds of resting bats. Some of them flit about past your face, (yes just like in the Batman Begins movie) but they are not dangerous and certainly nothing to be afraid of. It’s an amazing sight, though the smell is a tad harsh. The cave is carved through a limestone outcrop by a stream which runs through it. Ancient drawings on the walls speak of a mysterious past. Apparently, there are also giant toads and bat-eating snakes which have lived in there since prehistoric times, but I didn’t actually see any of those.
Sadly for visitors, there aren’t too many larger animals in the area where tourists visit – even the odd monkey.
The animals have sensibly made their homes deep in areas where tourists fear to go.
After any one of these high-energy sojourns, it was good to get back to home base at Kuala Tahan. I stayed in a comfortable, air-conditioned chalet, in the rustic resort of Ekoton.
Staff are extremely helpful and friendly, putting up with all the requests from guests, though I suppose there are limits:
“So I suppose retrieving my sunglasses is out of the question then?” I asked long-suffering Sharif later in the safety of the village’s floating restaurant, once I had gotten over the horror of it all.
I don’t think he heard me…

Getting there:
Malaysia Airlines flies to Kuala Lumpar from Hong Kong daily.
The best way to get to Taman Negara from KL is by train. The nearest town on the railway map is Jerantut. Train services to Jerantut are available from Singapore and Kuala Lumpur.
This is followed by a three hour raft journey to the HQ village of Kuala Tuhan. It is also possible to catch a bus from KL. It is faster but it as not as interesting.

and now we are 40

2005-05-03T06:48:00.000-07:00

It was my little boy's birthday today. Sam is five years old and very proud of it. He has been waiting for May 3 for weeks, asking every day: Is it my birthday yet mum? Are we there yet mum???
Sam is not your average kid. He asked for a label maker for a present, so he could "stick his name all over the place" but try as I might, not one hardware shop in Singapore stocked it. Instead, I bought him a punch ball (complete with bright red boxing gloves) to make up for the disappointment -- He seemed contented with that - and spent the entire afternoon whacking the hell out of the thing inbetween quaffing down large slices of chocolate cake and sugary jelly snakes.
Sam is a very cheerful, sunny-natured little boy which is a good thing cause I feel a little sad for him sometimes being the only little ang moh boy in his class - and trying so happily to fit in with the other kids - laughing and playing with them and sharing his sandwiches (though I think that is because he truely doesnt really care for marmalade on brown bread). The kids are sweet to him to so I guess we are not all that different deep down after all.
In a couple months i hit the Big FOUR-O ... and I am more inclined to ask: "is my bum sagging yet?
I think i want a label maker

Room with a view (and not much else)

2005-05-02T02:56:00.000-07:00

Enjoyable is a strong word. Especially when you refer to life in a studio flat on the 25th floor of a HDB block in Outram. Yes it can be enjoyable - and what makes it so is the view from my little shoebox. It is of the entire singapore bay and container terminal.
Every morning, I wake up and leap out of bed (very demure leaping here) and watch the sun rise over the water, rays glinting on the red,black and white boxes all neatly piled up on top of one another. I get to watch the fork lifts busily making their way around the container yard .. and i wonder about the guy driving it - is he just finishing the graveyard shift? (this is a 24 hour operation here) -- is he smiling behind the wheel as he skillfully collects and transfers one big metal box from one end of the huge yard to another?
I wonder how long the ships will be in dock and where they come from.. and what exactly is inside all those containers for god's sake??
Do some of them contain shipments of stuff that some shopkeeper is desperately waiting for? is it going to be the thing that makes him his fortune?
Do some of them contain the fancy furniture of well-to-do expats come to singapore to work for big multi-national companies?
If its a clear day, I can see miles into the distance.. past all the hustle and bustle of the psa terminal (that stands for port of singapore authority or something like that).. to the islands in the distance...Maybe the islands belonging to Malaysia.. those islands where life is not so crazy and hectic and bent on making a buck .. who knows?

The only thing is that once you tear your eyes away from this majestic sight, there's not much else to look at. My flat is just about big enough to swing a very skinny hamster in.
And I have a very excitable five year old who revels in turning up the cartoon channel o the tv to number TEN from around 7am each morning... o well tis the begining of another day

Don't try the tom yum

2005-02-26T08:07:00.000-08:00

Holy shttttt...Was all that I could manage to say. I warily opened the styrofoam container (already dripping icky oily liquid which should have been heeded as a warning) ... My friends warned me about buying from streetside vendors in Bangkok: It's hit-and-miss. yess it is cheap and yes it can be tasty -- but if you hit a dud - well you know all about it ...
But isnt that what life is all about - taking risks I mean?
Well this little offering from mrs lek on the corner was one time when taking risks was NOT a good idea.
Speaking of taking risks, I have just finished reading a rather sobering book about the Asian sex slave trade... poverty is a terrible thing - especially when the poor and vulnerable are being preyed upon.
Taking a risk here is a little more daunting than indulging in a dodgy portion of tom yum... I mean risking getting into bed with a woman (sans condom) who may or may not have an interesting and alarming selection of scary sexual diseases... is just plain dumb.
Young girls as young as EIGHT (even four I read about too) are being Sold into prosititution in countries like Thailand.. Yes the sex tourism industry is very in your face in Bangkok (excsue the expression) and yes it is very irritating in a lot of ways.. but i think sometimes people (especially men sadly) lose touch with reality.. a lot of them actually believe these young women (and little girls actually) ENJOY being prosititutes ! I guess it makes them feel a bit better about the fact that they are buying their bodies on a daily basis and propping up a horrendous industry where only a select and very powerful few truely profit -by this i mean powerful, moneyed men including POlititicians and "respectable" businessmen. meanwhile, young women are merely relegated to being commodities only as valuable as their youth /or how disease free they are (which by the time they are 30 they are either dead or on the way there)

It's time to stand up and make a NOISE about this!

At a loss for words

2005-02-26T08:03:00.000-08:00

often I will be walking down the road and suddenly think of something quite profound, and think like ummm- well I can;t think right now - but I tell myself: i should write that down - that's profound - and then I promptly just forget it - now I am sitting here trying to get my blogging up to date - and I can't think of a darn thing to say!
One thing though - I should keep these blogs short!

Wave of death ...

2004-12-31T23:28:00.000-08:00

I live in Bangkok -- most of the time -- and on Boxing day this year at about 9am, the airconditioner shuddered and groaned and ...stopped ..
Another power cut , I thought --- a typical scenario ... water, power telephone internet cuts are all very normal things in the city of angels.
But today -- as we all know now -- was different... the electricity problem was the only inconvenience i had to endure while just a few hundred kilometres away in Phuket -- thousands of people died
Washed away by a deadly wave that no-one could ever imagine would be coming in the first place .. How could anyone have even contemplated such a thing - while lying on a pristine white beach -- aquamarine waters, so placid so calm so peaceful -- just a few metres away.. There ...many of us could have been lying .. taking it easy after a busy christmas day and possibly a party the night before .. Christmas in paradise ... how lucky we are to be here!
Then all of a sudden a huge bastard of a wave comes along as unexpected as a grisly bear arriving at a school picnic..
I suppose I can just express all the same things that thousands of us have already, by email, telephone, on television, newspapers or in person to those hurt by this out of this world disaster.
The world has become such a cold, unkind place where so many just dont care about the welfare of others anymore. Maybe this should be a wake up call to us to start changing our priorties... try and be concerned about the welfare of those around us. even if it is in a kind word, a smile .. every day when we speak to people, earn a living ... let them know that we are all people ... and it is all not just about cold companies making profits and who cares about honour, love, compassion and integrity...
As the world becomes so "sophisticated" with all the modern technology, we become more and more removed from looking eachother in the eye and acknowledging how fragile we all are...
Maybe this should be a resoultion of every person in the world ...

Hell on wheels … I'ts heaven

2004-12-31T23:22:00.000-08:00

For some, any form of exercise is torture. So, the idea that people – especially farangs – would want to ride a bicycle 40km in the unrelenting Thai sunshine (and pay for the privilege) might make one wonder whether, karmically speaking, they have some work to do.

But, rather strangely, as I discovered upon joining an organised bike tour with a local company recently, hell-on-wheels is really – well not exactly heaven, but a rather pleasant day out.
And the closest the tour through the bi-ways of Bangkok’s countryside got to hell (although there were few brushes along the way) was coming face to face with a sun-bleached papier mache “devil “ with an abnormally long tongue and very saggy breasts.
The tour is one of the shorter ones this tour group offers, so a good one to flex your calf muscles with. And if you are a tad nervous about the idea of taking on the notorious traffic-snarled roads of Bangkok., this ride is in the COUNTRY. The “country” being only about 30 minutes out of the city and there are no such thing as traffic jams out there.
Up at 6am and off out of the city by 7am, the tour kicks off at the Kamalulislam mosque.
Riders are soon made aware early on in the trip, about just how easy it is to end up in hell.
First, outside the temple, the river (which is an extension of the much dirtier Pratunam canal in the city) is teeming with very big fat catfish ... writhing over and over each other, vying for the bits of bread the children throw to them.
Just a few hundred metres up the canal, fishermen check their markedly light nets, pretending not to notice what’s up for grabs not very far away.
Chris, the tour guide, was quick to explain the weird scenario to the uninitiated foreigners.
“It is not allowed to catch fish in front of the temple … if one does so, then one goes to hell” he explained simply.
“I think the fish know this and they all head for the temple, haha.. they are cleverer than we think those fish!”
It was certainly mesmerising to watch the catfish, but we leapt back on our bikes and headed down the along the canal…for a brush with hell part two..
The canal is lined by a raised concrete platform, so that residents (and nutty cyclists from Bangkok) can move more easily from house to house, as the banks are muddy and lined with thick bush.
It was somebody’s great idea, as imagine how difficult it must have been trying to negotiate along the banks to get an honest day’s work done before the platform was erected. The only thing is the platform is only about a metre wide. This is ok if you are walking or are a seasoned platform riding cyclist (as was Chris). For a coward like me … it was a bit well hellish really … at least for the first half an hour.
While I was pretty convinced I was going to see my rear end land in the canal, and probably kill myself in the process and thus go straight to hell for being allowing myself to die in such an undignified fashion - I was also determined not to be a wimp and get off and walk the distance (about 3km).
“Only a few more kilometres!” grinned Chris, “You want to walk, yes?”
“No no noooo, I lied,” grinning back weakly while wanting to punch myself for being a wimp.
Once you get over the terror aspect of it all, the canal ride was spectacular, the scenery is fantastic. It is very peaceful and serene.. such a difference from the city… and all the locals wave one past (unfortunately requiring one to let go of one handle bar to politely wave back).
Once off the canal, (phew), the ride makes it way along dirt roads, past happy kids, lots of rice paddies, sprawling snakes on hot tar roads and grumpy soi-like farm dogs peering out of wooden houses,
Lunch was served at the bizarre temple of Phurt Udom Pol which has to be the highlight of the day.
Built by the residents, I assume from asking Chris, they also put together a Dante’s Inferno-style cavern in the temple basement.
It’s a macabre side-show consisting of a collection of grisly exhibits, generally revolving around a common theme in which papier mache people are being tortured in hell.

As one would at a carnival, museum or games arcade, visitors drop a five baht coin in a little box at each exhibit and then step back to be entertained.
See paper mache figures (very often naked women with decidedly perky breasts) being sawn in half, disemboweled, stabbed, having their eyes pecked out or being devoured by wild-eyed ferocious soi dogs and other similarly devilish figures (with decidedly droopy breasts).
Lots of flashing lights and recorded screams add depth to the show and the accompanying placard explains what sin the unfortunate had committed in life to deserve such eternal torture.
Sins include everything from murder, drinking intoxicating liquor… to arguing with your parents and, yes, fishing in front of the temple – and presumably having saggy breasts.
Some exhibits are a little old, so don’t work very well and some of the flashing lights don’t work or, a rather unsettling situation, they don’t stop working.
If this happens, the kindly little old lady who oversees "hell" at the basement entrance comes along and, flashing a kind smile, pulls the plug out.
There is one exhibit which shows a tree bearing fruit … the fruit in this case being little naked ladies (yes, you guess all with perky breasts) dangling from the branches.
Unfortunately (sorry guys), this exhibit depicts a mythological story according to Chris, and those gals are not available even if you make it to hell.
With Phurt Udom Pol all done and with bellies full of carbohydrate-rich chicken pad Thai, the cyclists headed off for the last 13km stretch to the old market town of Nong Chock.

After spending a lot of time in Bangkok and having to make do with often not too appetising local produce, the market was an eye-opener.
With tired, sore-ish muscles and feeling ravenous again after the hot ride, all it took was a few baht to be able to stock up on sweet apples, yummy bananas and hairy rambutans. And we didn’t even mind the fishy smell one bit.
It was here that we traded our now dusty bikes for a long-boat to complete the journey.
Lying back comfortably on the boat, swatting a few flies and waving like royalty to everyone we passed, we sputtered our way along Saen Seab canal back to the mosque, the catfish and to the end of a heavenly day.

FAST FACTS

This tour is run by Spice Roads cycling adventures. The company runs tours throughout Southeast Asia. This one costs US$55 and includes local pick-up, your bike, a very nice guide like Chris, lots of yummy food and a ride to the drop zone in an air-conditioned bus. The bus also trails along behind you just in case you wimp out (sorry, I mean get tired) and want to rest for part of the way. Children get a 25 per cent discount. Auke Possel is the man to call.
E-mail: auke@spiceroads.com; Telephone: 66 (0) 2712 5305

Retreat to Koh Samui

2004-11-22T03:36:00.000-08:00

Here's a fun piece I wrote about trying to find a piece of turf in paradise:

Looking for an island retreat to invest your hard-earned cash? Whether you have millions to spend on a mansion which will take your breath away, or just a few hard-won thousands to put down on a charming nearish-the-beach-side villa, affordable Koh Samui could be just the place to realise any festering dreams you may have of owning a piece of Asian paradise.

Amble down the main street of Chaweng in Koh Samui on any balmy afternoon (and most afternoons are just that), and -- if you forget about the smell of coconut milk-drenched curry, lemon grass, and the occasional whiff of drain -- one could easily be in any modern holiday destination in the world. All the latest conveniences are a short walk away in any direction, from a modern supermarket and the obligatory McDonalds and Starbucks, designer-label shops to several top flight hospitals, spas and five-star resorts. The Bangkok Airways-owned airport is a few kilometers up the road. There is even an international school on the cards for the island, apparently.
Also along the main street and beyond are several property agents, some of whom are more established than others, and, indeed, some agents more experienced than others.
But all of them appear to be confident that only good things are happening in the property market in Koh Samui.
“All you have to do is drive around and you get the impression it’s one enormous building site (here),” quipped Mike Grover, CEO of Coconut Land and House in Koh Samui, one of the more established agents in town.
Mike bought property on the island five years ago and he invested in “Coconut” a few years after buying his beachside villa from this company.
The company has developed, built and sold several projects which are aimed specifically at the expat market.
It targets itself at both ends of the market, having property to suit the very rich to the retiree or single person looking for a one bedroom unit.
The market, says Mike and other agents, boomed dramatically a couple of years ago, and there was a madness when lots of agents set up shop and prices got a tad out of hand.
Things and have now settled somewhat.
And residents’ profile is altering too. No longer simply a place to have a holiday getaway, it has also become a place where expat families are settling permanently.
“The market still has room to expand in certain sectors,” Mike says, “It is no longer just a holiday destination…I have seen that shift in the past two years. We are seeing a shift away from the “beach villa” to properties intended for retirees and those living here fulltime.
“Most of the money coming into Koh Samui is from people living in UK and Europe as well as elsewhere in Asia. But we are beginning to see more clients from the Gulf.
“Luckily, Koh Samui is able to support the expat way of life. The infrastructure is starting to come here. Already there are three international hospitals.”
His sentiments are largely echoed by John Birt, who has been in the business for about 15 years, and is managing director of Samui Villas and Homes, another of the bigger property agents on the island.
“ A lot of people have set up business here in the past, who have never been developers before and I think this has caused a few problems,” he was reported in Asia Property Report recently.
“These days, visitors are much aware of the options available and are less willing to buy off plan from someone who has never built anything previously.”
David Delharty, an Englishman fairly new to Koh Samui and director of Real Samui Properties, has focused attention on land sales, which, he believes with what he says is the relative ease with which people are able to buy into Thai market , is a motivating factor for buyers.
“Our main focus is brokering and developing land and property in Koh Samui,” he says.
“Real estate prices continue to rise rapidly offering exciting investment opportunities in an idyllic setting .”
So… Koh Samui has come a long way from the days of holding court to sun-loving hippies or farang backpackers vacationing on the cheap. The island is catching up to flashy Phuket, but, agents say, the island will always retain an exclusive aura.
The little paradise’s privately-owned airport is not accessible to large passenger planes and the monopoly Bangkok Airways holds over flights allows them to keep ticket prices relatively high.
This may ensure it will not become the second Phuket.
But, if a look through local newspapers and brochures for what is available for what price tag is anything to go by, paradise here is no longer dirt cheap. That’s not to say it’s not a worthwhile investment long term though.
Your own villa in a tropical Asian beach beauty spot will set you back anything from a few hundred thousand US dollars to … well, the sky’s the limit.
And it also depends on your opinion of what exactly is an Asian paradise.
Remembering that in most Asian countries outright foreign ownership of land is banned or restricted, there is usually some legal jiggery-pokery involved, revolving around forming a company to buy 49 per cent of a property, then having a separate contract to control the other 51 per cent.
Anyway, let’s assume you blow a small fortune on the pleasant chore of flying around Asia, checking out suitable sites, and eventually form a burning desire to buy your very own piece of tropical heaven on Koh Samui.
A very modestly sized villa, fully furnished, on a plot right on the beach, in an upscale development called Coconut Village, will set you back US$200,000. Expect to pay another US$5,500 a year or so for upkeep, maintenance and a plot fee.
While you are not around to lap up the rays by the pool, you can probably rent it out and recoup a few bob.
Flying yourself, your hubby, your maid (you wish) and two kids out there (economy class) will cost upwards of US$600 return in high season from Bangkok.
It might make sense if you spend a lot of time there – you have a saleable and very desirable asset, and you can live in your new villa pretty cheaply. And someone else is taking care of all those pesky maintenance chores.
Of course if money is no object, you can buy a private villa with pool and stunning views for US$500,000 upwards ( ok it’s still cheaper than Phuket!)
“To find a place for US$1 million in Phuket is not unusual, says Mike, “ And a property which is 20-30 million baht in Koh Samui would probably be on the market in Phuket for up 80 million baht.”

A place in this budget will give you hot-and-cold-running ocean and waterfall views from an infinity-edge pool, oodles of space and basically everything that opens and shuts in luxury resort living – all a few minutes from a tranquil, palm-lined beach.
What it will cost to maintain is anyone’s guess. Basically, you would have to employ local staff to keep everything shipshape when you are away, unless you want to spend most of your holiday trimming back the bougainvillea or handling a leak in the roof in the utility room or fishing drowned geckos out of the bidet. Stand by for either paying well over the odds, or handling constant headaches.
Of course there’s a cheaper, more realistic option.
Unless you aim to spend plenty of time in your personal patch of paradise consider this:
A professionally run establishment were you can come and go as you please, with efficient staff always on hand to cater to your every whim. No maintenance problems, no hidden costs (unless you count the mini-bar), wonderful locations. Just move in and relax and enjoy the top-notch facilities, and if they begin to pall you aren’t tied in to anything. And when you aren’t around you don’t pay a cent – yes, you guessed it, you’ve got to go a long way to beat those holiday villas called “hotels”.

King Python

2004-10-29T08:55:00.000-07:00

The mouse was small and beige. Not particulalry "cute"... not like a hamster or a baby squirrel.. like the ones you see at Chatuchak market in Bangkok every weekend... huddled anxiously in wire cages .. the week's "stock" for the marketeers hoping to collect a few hundred baht to keep them going for another week.
No, this mouse was ordinary.. kind of ugly even with its skinny ragged body and rat-like features.. too beige to be "cute" enough to considered a pet... surely not.
Just the right kind of mouse mammal which is expendible.. so it's not so hard to simply pick it up by the tail and ... whoops... pop him or IT into the terrarium.
And Tyson was fast.
He dispatched of the little ugly rodent within seconds.. he had emerged from his favourite spot - languishing happily in a saucer of water with only the top of his slithery head not submerged - Tyson had IT's neck clamped tightly in his jaws. The mouse never moved... it died very quickly.
The swallowing would take a lot longer .. and was quite fascinating really.
Once one had gotten over the idea of how revolting it was to actually watch an animal ( a SNake for that matter) consume a live mammal right in front of one -- well once one was over that -- it was quite mesmerising.
Tyson, you must have gatheredm by now, was a python. He had also been bought at the Chatuchak Market. Not by me, mind you.. but i hadn't objected.
Tyson was just a common python --- nothing fancy or protected... yet a python all the same.
"He need one mouse -- alive every week sir" the stall holder reminded," 25baht a mouse... snake not eat dead only live okee?".
So that is how this snake arrived in my house -- and things have not gone all that smoothly mind.. also in my house is a soi dog (supposed to be a jack russel and also bought from the same market -- although he is a pet -- not dinner) He is completely devoid of any common sense ... and looking susupiciously more unlike a jack russell every day.
Also in my house is a four year old boy with a very inquiring mind who dreams of one day growing up to become super spiderman -- slayer of dragons -- rescuer of princesses from tall towers using his digimon mon waterblaster...
One day, the owner of the snake decided to buy three ugly mice -- the reasoning: to save him from having to go off to the market every weekend.. he could just drop in one a week.
Things just dont work that way in reality do they?
Unfortunately, the mice were left in a cardboard box on a lowlying table in the lounge.
and who should come by, but the dragon slayer.
When i came home a while later ... i found the young dragon-slayer with his new-found pets - who had been transferred into much more comfortable accommodation ... a shoebox with a little cushion and some water..
By the time it came to feed, now very hungry Tyson - who was looking exceedingly more pissed off as each day passed without mouse -- he only ended up getting one.
Fate took an odd twist ... one of the other mice escaped from his new-found "luxury" only to taste freedom for less than a minute as Jack leapt up from his usual spot chewing on the shoe rack ... and swallowed the little bugger whole ... right there in front of everyone.
The other little mouse - got some respite from what would turn out to be his inevitable destiny of -- well being eaten, he got away.
For about a week, Little Ugly Rodent lived the life of riley in my house ... emerging from his array of hiding places to pinch a few breadcrumbs or pillage Jack's bowl ( though that was pretty foolhardy i have to admit) ... no-one could catch him and it seemed it would live to be a mouse for longer than we expected...
But the world is a harsh place -- and little rodent was caught behind the treadmill one night -- and
Tyson was satisfied for anohter week....

Is there a doctor in the house?

2004-10-12T04:41:00.000-07:00

The man looked me in the eye, smiled and said: yes i am a doctor, but i am not being a doctor today... i just have my lunch here... solleee ok?.
The nurse hurried in and began translating what the kindly old gentleman accross from me had just said (in broken english) into even worse broken english.
Enter another guy who is about as close to the medical profession as Medieval John the dung gatherer.. "so what is your ailment madamme?" ...
This is bangkok, thailand... and i needed to see a doctor. Not that the ailment was life threatening or anything -- but u know, sometimes you just have to see the doc. Having lived in the big city for a few months and largely quite liking it, it is quite honestly a bit of a stressful town... and things were starting to get to me a bit. So, i thought a trip to the doc -- who might be able to prescribe something to calm my nerves for a while.. might me a good idea.
Most of us who have worked for big corporations ( in most countries) know that there is often a "company doctor" . His purpose i reckon to save on down time .. and sort out the working plebs quickly and cheaply. The Bangkok Post is no exception.... Upon hearing that from some colleagues, i thought Well that's a relief, -- having become quite accustomed to the irritations involved in trying to achieve just about anything here -- This includes everything from paying your rent, getting a telephone line, getting the dog to the vet, to finding a taxi driver who hasn't at least considered ripping you off from the moment he slaps eyes on you. My sense of relief was shortlived... The doctor is there alright -- and there are certificates on the wall and a sweet looking nurse receptionist up front guarding a "dispensary". But, as i discovered after much to-ing and fro-ing, if you are sick, you must go to the hospital. The conversation went like this:
"Afternoon doctor... u are the doctor?"
"Yes"
(enter "nurse")
"YOu work here?
"Yes..but my first time"
"(nurse) "ohhh - you have x-ray and medical examination?"
"No - i just want to chat to the doctor - not a big deal"
"ohh - bu u work here- u mus ge x-ray"
"ok - but can i talk to doctor now?"
"ohh ok"
(nurse remains standing in room listening intently, door wide open)
"so doctor, can u help me i have been under a lot of stress lately ..can u prescribe something for me?
"huh?"
"can u help me.. have been under a lot of pressure ... maybe help get over a blip.. u know work. living in a foreign city -- battling to get things done... feeling harassed.. my boyfriend doesn't understand me [and neither does my husband hahaahah].. not being understood -- u know?"
"huh?"
(frustration welling up -- yoga breaths )

Doc -- do u understand me?

Uh - a little - a bit english --

(nurse) u cannot get perscription here okee? what is your problem?

"well i thought i would tell the doc about that if that's ok with you?"

doc looking more confused than ever: " i cannot treat you -

u ahven't heard of the hypocratic oath? u have to

"i cannot" -

"so what u do here"?

"huh?"

Enter man with name tag round neck --

"so what is wrong with you?

"are u a doctor? "

"no "

"well i thought i might tell the doctor what's wrong - but he says he can't treat me"

Ah u must sort yourself out then.. no doctors here .. u have to go to hospital ..

There are now about five people in the doc's little consulting room... all talking to eachother -- and i have not a clue what they are saying - except that i am concentrating on my breathingthe guy with the name tag doesn't appear to like the idea that a foreigner could possibly want medical assistance form a doctor -

The doctor goes back to reading his paper and the nurse says - you go to hospital ok?

bewildered i retreat --- still no closer to getting anywhere - and now REALLY stressed

A valium go down well now-- if i could get one - or even just a few large vodkas if that's all it looks like i am going to be able to get.

Bangkok..singapore.. bangkok...where am i again?

2004-09-15T08:38:00.000-07:00

I thought I'd sit side saddle on the little suzuki bike this morning. All the normal working stiffs in Bangkok do. And they do it while simultaneously holding onto a week's worth of groceries and a small child. Why should I be any different. And, besides, I had a skirt on.
I have been in Bangkok for about two months, having "moved" from Singapore. The little island state - some scoff and call it Disney land with the death penalty.. well I quite like it .. even if it is Asia for beginners.
Bangkok is a different bowl of biscuits. One minute I hate it . the next i kind of tolerate it.
Every couple of weeks, I fly back to singapore to work for a magazine there and I heave a big sigh of relief as I slide into the taxi and the driver usually grins and asks (in english): so where to lah?
And it takes about 20 minutes to get to my (ok rather seedy)hotel (in the red light district of geylang - but its cheap and uncle jimmy at the reception is my mate now so I get the nicest rooms.
I rented a house in Bangkok which I really like. it is right in the middle of a completely Thai neighbourhood so you spend most of your time interacting with neighbours with hand gestures and very limited thai ( I know about 10 words)
My four year old son doesn't seem to have a problem with the language though - his friends, Bang and Nut, come over and ride bikes and play games - and the trio seem to have a whale of a time yakking away- in their respective languages