anupama

There is nothing pleasant in arriving anywhere at stupid o'clock, i.e. at some ridiculous hour of the day where the sensible are in bed and the hedonistic are out looking for the next high. Unfortunately, myself, I was doing neither and while I occasionally crave the latter at that moment at 1am in Singapore airport - the bed, the warm room with the curtains drawn tight was the more prevaling temptation. And the image was taunting me as I considered my options. Realising once again that I had lost my hostel booking I made arrangements with the airport to take me to the closest and cheapest hotel in town. Consequently, I ended up in Little India arriving at my hotel in the cold and pouring rain. As soon as I found my bed I sunk into ... read more

I woke up with a jolt the following morning due to not only having a hangover from the night before but mainly due to a memory of a conversation about a boat. The lasting image in my mind from last night was of Yaari behind me on the dancefloor while the Indo boy, who was otherwise my landlord at the time was coming toward me - each wanting a piece of me. Now to the matter of the boat. I was assured that the offer was genuine and in that vein I got my things together with the faith that there would be somebody to meet me at Horizon bar as planned. And, hell if nobody was there the worst that could happen would be my spending stupid money on a delicious breakfast. Lo and behold ... read more

I was warned to give Kuta a wide berth on the premiss that it's full of louts and drinkers...younguns looking for hedonism, fun in the sun and all that jazz without any inclination toward the culture of Bali. I did pay some heed to those comments but with only limited time remaining in Asia and with things to do such as booking flights and arranging accomodation in Singapore I opted to go to Kuta. So, I stayed on the bus that brought us on the ferry over from Indonesia. The original plan was to change buses and head to quieter climes for repose and peace of mind. However, I never learn. When I should keep my opinions to myself after having slept for just 4 hours and been awake for 20, instead I spurted forth vitriol ... read more

I am so behind on these blogs that to talk now about Yogyakarta (pronounced: Jogjakarta) when it is so far removed from my present state of mind is turning out to be a hard task indeed. All I have now are images of a time gone. Sweet memories that I can fondly recall at will. My most endearing are the faces of the friends I made. Local people, specifically Batik artists who took me into their homes and shared with me their stories and the ocassional (expensive due to the inordinately high taxes imposed on spirits) bottle of wine. I first encountered Artap while out wandering the attractive backstreets of Yogyakarta, which provided not only a refreshing refuge from the heat and pollution of the main roads but was equally kinder to the eyes. Here you ... read more

With a heavy heart I returned to Kota Kinabulu carrying a cold from my last day in Mabul only heartened by the fact that I would be flying out to Kuching the following morning. I don't have an alarm preferring to rely on my body clock alone which I can tell you has gotten me into some near misses - nearly missing the bus is one thing but the plane! I woke up at precisely the time I should have been boarding the taxi. Running down the stairs of Tropicana Lodge in just my knickers and T-shirt to alert my driver of my presence was alarming for both of us! With just quarter of an hour to spare I threw my belongings into the backpack, gathered my bags and went scooting back down the stairs, jumped ... read more