We moved!!!!

And.....the move is over. All this fuss and preparation and now we are happily settled in our new home. It's strange to see one's possessions in a different environment and in a way it feels odd but in another it gives a whole new meaning to the phrase so dreaded by our male counterparts..... " I want to rearrange the furniture, dear!". The movers arrived on time, unloaded all our boxes, made me count each one (I found out I had 71) and within 3 hours everything was deboxed, arranged in some way in the flat and ...they were gone leaving me with piles of plates and glasses I did not know where to put due to the fact my kitchen is now barely existing but with a mega diner-cum-lounge I do not know how to fill. Not a problem really as mummy is coming over at the end of the month and we are going to hit all the antique shops. Trying to get some sense of normalcy I have devoted the guest room to horror area where all my clothes are piled on the floor waiting to be washed and aired after 3 months in cardboard boxes inside a metal container along with stuff I do not know where to place in this new environment meaning that if I put it away now I will not find it when I need it. This means the rest of the flat looks relatively decent. However it's the annoying but necessary things in life I really need such as storage for linens and towels and the hated but essential shoe cabinet. Here they tend to leave their shoes on a rack outside the property but I find it a bit messy so I do not have much of a choice and I must find myself a closed cabinet. So just when I thought my Ikea days were behind me I found myself going through the enormous shop's market place along with other desperados in search of a solution that was not too expensive or did not take 6 months to deliver. We ended up with a chest of drawers due to the total lack of clothes storage in this flat (though it is well equipped with the ever present reinforced concrete bunker), a series of shelves to put in the maid's room now turned into a larder and curtains. We had decided we would not spend more time than strictly necessary in the shop but these clever Swedes know how to catch you every time and we spent 3 hours roaming the floors in search of the perfect shelf....which we actually found in the end. After that it was mounting the stuff and Max feigned a tummy ache with frequent visits to the bathroom (for the authentic touch!) so I ended up working on the devilish contraption myself with outstanding results. Now I am waiting for the locksmith to change our locks and tomorrow I will meet the condominium administrator. Furthermore I have equipped myself with rollers, brushes and paint and have decided to redecorate the entire flat. A bit ambitious I know but while the flat looked decent enough when the previous owners were still here now the walls look tired with furniture marks in places so a fresh lick of paint should do wonders. Back to work!

Size is not important when defending your wicker chair

It's a balmy Saturday evening. The bbq is going and today we are cooking a chicken along with some lamb sausages and a pineapple for dessert. We first had bbqed pineapple last night during our romantic date at the Halia Bistro at the Botanic gardens. After a superb appetizer and main course we finished the evening off with a lush dessert. A ginger laced nougat parfait with bbqed pineapple. The contrast of sharp, crunchy and sweet was absolutely divine and we left knowing I would have to repeat this once we finally enter our new home. Clearly I had to let my French sister know about this and wrote to her this morning as I know she will try and reproduce it as fast as I can say "Zut!".

Still, today is our last bbq here at the residence and we duly bought a pineapple to try out. I am sitting at the table while Max is at the bbq and a small leaf falls on the back of the chair in front of me. I barely register it but then I notice the leaf moving upwards and I get curious. It’s not a leaf at all but an inch long praying mantis crouching on its long thin legs, bright green in colour. “So cute” I think and lean over to take a closer look. Immediately the little critter lifts itself in all its 1cm height and starts undulating very slowly side to side glaring at me through his bulbous yellow eyes. I move to the left and his gaze does not falter, he turns his head, slowly, deliberate, sizing me up. “Well” I think “he must realise there really is no match” but I am a bit apprehensive to be out stared by this insect. It’s a photo opportunity and I pick up the camera, set it to macro in view of the size of my subject and slowly place it on the chair. My leggy friend immediately starts to run towards the camera lifting his praying arms in a clear attempt to scare it off. Taken aback I remove the camera and stare at the aggressor a bit puzzled. Time to call in the white hunter so I whine and make small whimpering noises of distress and finally get Max’s attention. I explain my predicament and immediately get told off for being a scared little lady, which in reality I am so I happily give him the camera to see what he can do. Max walks opposite to where I am sitting and points the camera at our friend who turns rapidly on his heels, clearly peeved and charges the offending war machine. He reaches the end of the chair and starts to undulate again but this time back and forth as if deciding if a jump is possible. A second later Max jumps back swearing, the camera flies in the air and crashes to the floor scattering its batteries in the process. I lift my head in disbelief, look at the scene of devastation and realise the bug has attacked my hubby and....won! We exchange troubled glances and decide that after all he was here before us so pick up our dishes and cutlery and move to a different table. Once again attitude is what counts, size is irrelevant!

What a peranakan house looks like from the inside

Yippee! Out of the blue my friend Sue invited me to go check out a Peranakan house for rent. She knew how much I really wanted to see one inside so there wasn't much begging on her side but more a case of "Erica jump" and Erica saying "how high?".

So I spent 10 minutes figuring out what to wear as I wanted to look sophisticated and girl-about-town but being the worst day in my brief Singaporean history in terms of heat and humidity I opted for my green linen dress and sandals that make me look more like a mediaeval dairy maid than a lady of leisure but with 35 degrees out there and 90% humidity I decided fresh was best.

With Sue forgetting her bus pass and having to go back to her flat to find it I was fretting away in anticipation so when she finally got back I whisked her away on bus 36 and 10 minutes later arrived sweaty and late to our appointment. So much for cool composure.

To say the truth the initial feeling while walking down the road looking for n. 125 was of doubt. A massive construction of some new condo was taking place right in front of the house and right behind it is a main highway with heavy traffic. To the right and side of the house a refurbishment project was in full flow so I could see why this should have been a no-no from the start.

Sue and I exchanged worried glances but by now it was too late to scuttle away so in we went. To both sides of the entrance door large old tiles with a pale green background depicting parrots and other exotic birds. Inside the house unexpected silence and one large reception room with a tiled floor in a simple dark red and white geometric pattern. The main attraction is the high ceiling that shoots directly up to the roof meaning all floors overlook the reception room. Opposite to the entrance a glass door that takes you to the courtyard, back entrance and....the kitchen. Yes, the kitchen is in the garden and if I was surprised at first I also realised that food preparation was meant for servants and not the masters of the house and this also means that cooking smells and heat are no bother to anybody in the house.

A wooden staircase takes you up to the 2nd and 3rd floor, the dark stained wood complementing the white walls and giving the property a very colonial feel. All the rooms have dark timber windows that open up onto the reception room. While this does not make for a lot of privacy it allows however for light to pour into what would otherwise be a rather dark, if cool room.

The external windows are decorated with stained glass motifs of red, yellow and blue though what the motives represents is not very clear.

Overall a beautiful house smack in the centre of Orchard Road but the lack of facilities such as a swimming pool or a proper garden make it a not very suitable proposition especially for families with children.

Being told off by Stephanie because I forgot the war bunker

Well,

I actually thought I had mentioned the war bunkers in previous inputs but evidently I forgot and promptly got told off by Stephanie who, on her first viewing of a potential flat was confronted with the notion of such thing and, rightfully so, dropped her jaw and then decided to lay into me for not warning her.

So here is how it goes!!!

Post 9/11 some clever beaver decided that condos, in view of the fact they are rather tall, constituted a potential risk of bombing by much less clever beavers. The response to this was not to work on peace and reconciliation talks but to build reinforced concrete private bunkers equipped with an air vent and steel doors. These bunkers are inside each flat and proudly shown by estate agents to bemused potential tenants.

The fact they are used as storage not of water, canned beans, a portable toilet, a mattress and survival goods but mostly of old boxes, broken TVs, baby clothes for the baby that might come one day means that only the latter will survive a nuclear bomb fallout.

At the same time I do not understand what good it can do to be stuck in a bunker 30 floors up or being buried by rubble 30 floors thick if the proverbial bomb does hit the fan so I personally have dismissed the whole point as ludicrous and have decided to live happily with the notion that my guest sheets and towels will survive all sorts of terrorist attacks.

So my answer to this is going to Raffles Hotel with Steph and ordering a Singapore Sling, a sweet, dark pink concoction with a maraschino cherry on a stick. Not really my favourite drink but when in Singapore do as the Singaporeans.

Cheers!!!!

Do not feed the monkeys

Recently we visited the Bukit Timah Nature Reserve. It is supposed to be the last remnant of the original tropical forest that used to cover Singapore before the locals discovered the lure of modern condos and comfortable living.

In origin it took explorers 5 days to get to the summit and plant their flag up there, now it's a few bus stops away from Orchard.

The first thing you notice is the deafening sound of lovelorn crickets fighting to keep hold of their territory and attract the cutest females.

The second and probably most bemusing thing you notice is that most visitors walk backwards. At first I thought it was an eccentric if peculiar local habit.

In reality the reason is linked to the fact the walk through the first part of the forest is incredibly steep and while one does not notice it going up, calves and thighs burn and scream coming down and it feels like a little annoying dog is biting your legs with glee and the typical little dog's determination. The slope eases after a while and the walk becomes a gentle stroll with various ramifications that take you to different parts of the reserve. We walked to the top of the hill, a scary 161m above the sea and joined all the other people who had made it to the summit. And this is when we saw the first monkeys. We had read at the entrance to the reserve that monkeys are not supposed to be fed but I really did not expect to see any and I imagined these signs to be more for the tourists than to indicate real presence. The same with signs giving suggestions on how to behave if confronted with a snake be it a green tree snake or a cobra. Having had a very close, almost intimate encounter with a cobra once and lived to tell the tale I had decided to take these signs at least half seriously instead of laughing them off.

In any case here were the monkeys, about six in all and maybe two babies eating flowers growing through a fence. Of all the animals in the world primates are not really my favourite. They look too human and usually display the least positive and honourable of human traits. They scream, they steal, they pout, are aggressive in a thuggish way and generally make a lot of fuss for nothing. Still watching them in their natural habitat was special. So close to the city centre, a mere 10 minutes away by taxi and still immersed completely in dense vegetation such to make one feel as if civilization was miles away. The vegetation was so thick I could not see through it but glimpses of white which I mistakenly imagined to be the cliffs of Malaysia. In reality Malaysia, at least in this part of the world, does not have any cliffs and the white bits were the walls of large housing estates but still, it was romantic for a moment.

We took a detour coming down the hill and walked our way through the "waterfall" path. Not much of a waterfall but one could hear the sound of water rushing through the forest.

Overall a lovely shady walk on a warm sunny day.

If you want to hear the crickets click on the link below and enjoy!