Aug 12
Sipping at a young coconut in the shade of a pohon waru, a gnarled tree with spade-shaped leaves, I squeezed the cool white sand between my toes. The smell of grilled fish, freshly caught from the sea, wafted over from the beachside warung – a small trio of shacks in bamboo and alang-alang – while a row of brightly painted outrigger canoes lay lined up on the shore.
Aug 6
From the comfort of my seat I watched as our waitress carried a clear plastic bag of chillies into the kitchen, presumably to be chopped up and used in the sauce for our homemade ayam taliwang. As we came down from our three-day trek on Mount Rinjani, during which we were fed vast quantities of banana pancakes, spaghetti, and even a burger with fries, Bama was excited about the prospect of returning to the rich flavours of Indonesian fare. “I’ve been craving something spicy!”
Aug 4
“No hot chocolate?!” The middle-aged French tourist snapped. “But what about the cheeldren?!” The young man behind the breakfast counter mumbled and shook his head apologetically. I watched as the Frenchman’s face contorted and scowled, breaking the trail of angry questions with a final “Never?!” before storming off. Read more
Jul 31
Standing precariously on a ridge of loose volcanic scree, I squeezed the top of the trekking pole and pushed down with all my strength. A thin, broken trail of lights was now snaking its way to the summit roughly 100 metres above my head, a darkened mass that loomed tantalisingly close under the brightness of a full moon. In the distance I could just make out the finish line: two pinnacles forming a natural gateway to the peak. Read more
Jul 29
Five days ago I lay stretched out on a flat, grassy headland below the equator, staring up at the sky and savouring the gusts of wind blowing in from the open ocean. Bama and I were spending a week on the Indonesian island of Lombok, across the strait from Bali and a world away from the madness of Hong Kong or Jakarta. Read more
Jul 15
As a nickname, it’s not nearly as popular as ‘The Big Durian’ (Jakarta) or ‘The Big Mango’ (Bangkok), but some expats have affectionately called Hong Kong ‘The Big Lychee’. Native to the rainforests of southern China, the lychee fruit is protected in a thin, brittle shell concealing a delicate pulp with an aromatic, perfume-like flavour. Read more
Jul 5
Through the netted screen, the waters of Deep Water Bay glinted a startling cobalt blue in the harsh midday sun. Clear skies and postcard-perfect weather had finally arrived after a week of rain, and the scene appeared almost Mediterranean, as though transplanted from a rugged stretch of the Côte d’Azur. Read more
Jun 26
Língu di gente antigo di Macau The language of the old people of Macau
Lô disparecê tamên. Qui saiám! Will also disappear. What a pity!
Nga dia, mas quanto áno, One day, in a few years
Quiança lô priguntá co pai-mai A child will ask his parents
Qui cuza sä afinal What is, after all,
Dóci papiaçam di Macau? The sweet language of Macau? Read more
Jun 21
Right in the centre of Hong Kong Island’s north shore, Wan Chai may be better known as the setting for the film and novel ‘The World of Suzie Wong’, its raucous nightlife a legacy of visiting servicemen during the Korean and Vietnam Wars. But beyond the tram tracks on Johnston Road lies the original neighbourhood, home to a thriving residential community that was established long before the girlie bars and nightclubs first made an appearance. Read more
May 28
Race 65 at the Stanley warm-up event, and we have landed ourselves in the mixed division’s bronze cup final. “Focus!” The captain on the adjacent boat hollers over his anxious team. Our vessel is parked in lane two of the starting line, protected from the incoming waves by an orange pontoon. This year, instead of watching from the relative comfort of the beach, I am right in the thick of the action. Read more
