Travels

Phuket - March 2008

I was in Phuket with five of my girl friends in 2000. We booked a package from the Banyan Tree Phuket. At the time I wasn't quite the girlie girl and haven't been on a girlie beach holiday so bestbud Diva D sent me the packing list that pretty much said NO JEANS. Everyone met in Bangkok and upon our arrival at the Banyan Tree, we unpacked, changed into beachwear, had drinks decorated with flowers and planned our itinerary. Over the next 6 days, we ticked off the must-dos efficiently: A cruise around the islands, eat seafood, rent a Jeep and drive around Phuket, spa spa and spa, buy fake goods, go into Boots buy unneccessary hair products and be amazed that you are in Boots outside the UK, Transvestite Cabaret, Tiger Show...the works. It was my first girlie holiday and those were the days before digital cameras so the pictures I have of the memorable occasion are (thankfully) in an album somewhere. Eight years later I have just returned from a second holiday in Phuket with my family in tow. It felt like too short a holiday and we were a bit sad (and a bit sunburnt) when we left the Villa, but it's good to be back. When we got home Willow meowed accusingly to us, I think she missed us when we were not around and probably stroppy that we got to eat first grade sashimi at Naoki. But that's for another post i.e. when I can get Bobby to do his food review on Naoki. It may be a little bit different from the holiday Bobby and I usually have (namely hours and hours of simply monging by the beach interspersed with lots of eating) because this time we have Mimi and Azim with us but it was enjoyable all the same. Bobby told Mimi's grandparents, who met us at the airport last night, that she swam in the sea for the first time. Grandma was a little worried, but we told her that the sea in Phuket was flat and calm, its water warm, clean and a beautiful blue. It's hard to imagine the Phuket that was during the tsunami in 2004. Bobby and I watched some video footage of the tsunami on YouTube just to remember what the island (and India, Sri Lanka, Indonesia and Malaysia) went through. The videos were scary and chaotic, but I'm glad to say that three years later Phuket has lost none of its charm and its tourism industry still buzzling. One evening Bobby, Azim and I left the serene tropical atmosphere of the resort to have some seafood and trawled Patong Beach. Which is a must-do when one is in Phuket. Azim saw a transvestite up close and got flashed fake boobies. These are also must-dos. I refrained from smuggling him into that show where the women do all those circus tricks with their private bits lest I be accused of leading my 16 year old son astray. The resort recommended us to go to the Baan Rim Pa for some Thai seafood. The restaurant has one of the best location in Phuket, on a cliff overlooking the Andaman Sea. The girls and I also came to dine at the Baan Rim Pa all those years ago. However the food this time was not very good and I think after years of recommendations from concierges the owners are resting on their laurels. We had better Thai food cooked by the chef the resort provided and even in Brunei at Wandi's (a Thai restaurant in Jerudong, now unfortunately closed). Bobby was disappointed, but I said that Phuket is not known for its seafood, but is known more for its sex tourism. We headed off to Patong's Soi Bangla (Bangla Road) where the nightlife is centered on. Baan Rim Pa Azim in Thailand's omnipresent Tuk-Tuk heading back from Patong, a taxi-like vehicle known so because of how the engine sounds. We also went for a cruise around the islands. The resort arranged a half-day trip for us and at 10am we went by car to the marina at Phuket Boat Lagoon. Upon seeing a rather flashy yacht, I said to Bobby, "Oh this is nice" and Bobby replied "No not that one". Well, it was no yacht but we had our own little boat complete with a Captain (with a tan surpassing George Hamilton but without the Botox) and his First Mate. Our Captain showed us a map of the islands we were about to visit around Phang Nga Bay, his running commentary a bit useless, I couldn't understand a word he was saying because his English had a thick Thai accent, but I'm not complaining. Ahoy Mateys! Exiting The Marina We saw a lagoon that tourists could access via a small opening in the limestone cliff. There were people in their little canoes going in and out of the opening. Our Captain however, thought it would be quaint if he anchored close to the cliff, got his passengers to step off the boat and then precariously climb onto a ledge nestling in the limestone, just so we could see the lagoon. I put a brave face on and climbed ungainly, arms legs and ass akimbo. Canoe Access Ledge Access The Lagoon Took the customary picture of James Bond Island (known in Thai as Ko Tapu) called so because Francisco Scamaranga (Roger Moore's Bond arch nemisis in The Man With A Golden Gun) placed a laser gun type thing at the top of the island to harness solar power in order to destroy earth with a mmnnmmzzgggppddd! *cue 60's style sound effects of laser The islands were teaming with hordes of tourists (young Japanese girls, large Americans, loud Europeans) in beachwear every colour and design, their faces red and a whole lot of sweat. Cameras clicking away. We were no different. On the adjacent island of Ko Khao Phingkan, tourists stand on the beach to take pictures of James Bond Island. When we returned a few hours later from the islands we brought Mimi for another swim in the pool. She swam a lot this holiday and everytime we brought her out of the water she seemed a little disgruntled and diva-like. She's a little water fiend, our Mimi. Bobby also calls her a fresh air fiend because she is happiest outdoors and is always raring to go for her morning walk when the sun (and her father) has just woken up. Our Phuket days were hot, sometimes blisteringly so. Even though we slather sunblock all over her exposed bits, Mimi got a little tanned and a little attitude. A Lil' Diva With Attitude We bought her a little straw hat from Phuket for extra shade. She liked it better than the flowery girly hats I subject her to, but it makes her look a little 'Crocodile Dundee'... Azim and Mimi Whilst our Villa was the best part of the resort, the main resort itself was rather nice... The Entrance The Library The Beach Club And on our last afternoon in Phuket, we stayed out by the beach to catch the sunset. How to get there from Brunei? You catch a Royal Brunei Airlines flight to Bangkok and then hop on a Thai Airways flight to Phuket. Ask for your luggage to be sent straight to Phuket. At the airport in Bangkok, proceed to arrivals, pass customs and go up to departures where you check in for your Thai Airways flight (and vice versa for the return leg).

Bobby And The Volcano - March 2007

The Volcano

Em, Azim and I visited Jogjakarta in Central Java for the first time early last 2006.

We were smitten by the place. Its history, courtly culture, epic natural scenery and by the warmth and graciousness of the Javanese people themselves.

We visited airy palaces in Solo, rode mischievous Java ponies, examined the ancient monument of Borobodur, trekked, ate and generally enjoyed the scenery.

On the ride to the airport at the end of what felt like far too a short trip, I eyed Gunung Merapi, the smoking volcano that stands guard over Jogjakarta and said to Em, “next time we come here, I’ve got to climb that!” Em eyed me back, a little torn between wanting to return to Jogja and wanting to put a dangerously deranged husband straight.

Well, within a year we had returned. We had taken the opportunity to have a few days off, a chance to travel before the bun is done, and to try, as always, to just get a little change in perspective. This time we came with my parents.

After the marathon in December, I had taken to climbing Bukit Shahbandar, two rounds in each weekly session, and taking the boys out for long mountain bike rides in the hills between Rimba and Jerudong. I was fairly fit, but had been enjoying my food a bit much, so had a little trepidation in thinking about the climb and my expanding waist.

On the first day we toured Jogjakarta. We started with a trip to the Kraton, or palace, of the Sultan of Jogjakarta. It was quite pleasant, a string of wide-open pendopo’s or pavilions, built around groomed lava sand squares.

We watched expertly conducted Javanese dances and inspected quiet halls displaying gifts to the palace. A pity the artifacts of state were not on show, having been damaged in last year’s earthquake. It was never the less a fascinating first look at Javanese court culture.

Court Dancers

The Kraton is located on a straight line between the summit of Merapi and the coastal site of Parangitis, all of these locations important to one another and the region of Central Java.

Kraton

Legend has it that the founding (pre-Islamic) King of the Region, Senopati entered into a pact with the “Queen of the South Seas”, Ratu Kidul. In return for his devotions, she would provide protection and guidance. The story goes that Senopati was taught warfare and statecraft by the Queen in her underwater lair off the southern coast.

Successive Mataram Kings have continued in their devotion. Every year on the anniversary of the Kings coronation offerings and prayers are given, at the Kraton, on the south coast and on the slopes of Merapi.

People are quite fascinated by Ratu Kidul. At beach resorts on the south coast, bathers are reminded not to wear green. It is the colour of the Queen and wearing it will encourage her to take you as her subject in her underwater kingdom.

The previous Sultan of Jogjakarta is quoted as saying that she ages with the moon being young and beautiful when the moon is at the start of its phase.

Some may cluck with disapproval at such goings on, but I am not one to judge. It also makes for a colourful history.

We visit the Water Palace, man-made pools built by 17th Century Kings. One place that I wanted to visit, but which was closed by reason of earthquake damage, was the “coiled well”. This is an underground chamber, built to mirror Ratu Kiduls underwater palace, designed for monarchial assignations with the Kingdoms spiritual protector.

Water Palace aka Taman Sari

Apart from the history and culture, Jogjakarta is a lively low-rise city, home to a number of universities. I appreciate the quiet dignity and gentle manners of the Javanese, which gives way great exuberance and love of life. The Javanese do love their art, dancing and music, not to mention their food.

We lunched at “Sriyati Fried Chicken”, recommended by the hotel. Real local style. We had a whole fried chicken- beak, feet and all. A whole deep fried ikan gurami. Lontong, nasi goreng, soto ayam and the batter from the chicken.

Sriyati Remains

After lunch, we visited the Affandi Mueseum. I think that Affandi is one of the 20th Centuries great artists. His impressionist work is captivating. His former house, now the museum, contains some paintings that can genuinely be said to contain the heart and soul of the artist. A tortured sensitive soul, who expresses on canvas life as he sees it, directly, without filtration.

The Affandi Museum

My dear Pater, on Javanese painters, prefers Basoeki Abdullah and thinks that Affandi is overrated, and much too fond of his misery. Each to his own I guess.

We finished off a fine day with a Rijstafel, back at our hotel, Amanjiwo.

Rijstafel Dinner

The following day was the day of my climb. The idea is that you set off at 11 at night from the hotel to drive to Selo, the highest village on the slope of Merapi. You climb from midnight to reach the summit by dawn, when the skies are clearest. At any other time, there is a risk of the summit being obscured by cloud.

We planned a restful day. A picnic breakfast and a pony cart ride around the desas surrounding Borobodur. Em and I ate lunch and napped by the pool, all the while glancing with a little trepidation at the smoking volcano in the distance.

From left, Gunung Merbabu, Gunung Merapi, Babu & Pater

Lunch By The Pool

The hotel provided one guide and two porters. This may seem like a lot for just one climber, but someone was needed to carry breakfast. To paraphrase a favorite saying from my footballing days, “it doesn’t matter if you climb the mountain or not, so long as it is done in style.”

I was counseled to remember to always memberi salam, to seek permission to take a path, and to pass through without disturbing people, or things. Thus appropriately prepared, my little expedition set off for our mid-night climb.

It was a quite pleasant climb, in a cool clear night. As we climbed higher, the lights of Central Java spread out and sparkled below us like a blanket of stars. The huge shadow of the next volcano, Merbabu seemed to loom over us at first but not as we climbed higher.

We climbed quickly, stopping only twice. Our experienced guide seemed to lose the track at one point. Being quite an active volcano, landslides and eruptions change the topography of the slope, so tracks further up come and go.

Closer to the top, the winds picked up and clouds threatened to move in. The guide said that if it rained, we would not be able to make the summit because of the threat of landslides. It seems however that we were smiled upon. As we reached the plateau on the last leg to the summit, the winds died and the clouds cleared.

We reached the plateau of Pasar Bubra in a good time of 3 hours. We rested in a little nook of rocks till 4 am for the final push to the crater rim, having a bit of tea and cake.

Picnic At 3am

We clambered up the final leg along quite a difficult, almost vertical wall. Loose stones and rocks also made it a little hairy at times, as you had to make sure that the rocks you are holding did not come away. Near the summit cracks in the rock vented hot sulphurous gasses, and some parts were hot to touch.

Sulphur Stains

The very top, Garuda peak, was reached by 5 am, where we spent an hour to sunrise. I do hate to be corny, but it was otherworldly. Hot gasses swirled around the summit, but it was completely silent. The sulphur smelt like a match being struck. I looked into the crater, dropping away deep into the mountain so the bottom could not be seen, steaming gas.

Garuda Peak

Garuda Peak

I was reminded of the joke of the American who looks down into the crater of the volcano in the Philippines and drawls, “Gee, it sure looks like hell down there’, whereupon the Philipino guide retorts, “these Americans get everywhere.”

We came off the summit before the cloud moved in, back to Pasar Bubrah. The descent was actually a lot more terrifying than the ascent, because in the daylight you can actually see how far you will fall if you get it wrong.

It would not have been an Aman outing without a meal with stunning views. At Pasar Bubrah, we had a picnic on a precipice, of tea, brownies and smoked salmon foccacia.

Smoke Salmon Sandwiches

I returned to the hotel by 10, to a rather happy Em, and my parents who had returned, by elephant, from a tour of Borobodur. We shared adventure stories over breakfast and finally slept. That night we ate nasi goreng at a roadside warung, rounding off a memorable trip to Java.

Feeding The Elephants

Bangkok - May 2006

Dear SP,

I hope that you are well.  As you know we visited Bangkok a couple of weekends ago.

Not that you asked for this, but as I promised to write this for my wife, who insists on baring our lives for public consumption, I thought that I would burden you with my trip report whether you like it or not.

Fresh out of work on Friday night, we caught the 1950 to BKK.  An uneventful but crowded flight, long queues at immigration.

The agent from the Oriental clocked us as we emerged from Customs.  The legendary Oriental Hotel 6th sense seemingly at work, as we have never stayed there before.  Though I would say that he probably has an eye for the kind of fart who takes up the limo service.

A pleasant, soothing 45-minute trundle into town.

We took a stateroom in the river wing of the Oriental.  It is a corner room facing the river, a little bit larger than the normal rooms but smaller than a suite.  It is called a stateroom because of the nautical theme of the décor.  Nicely done you know, with classical furniture, Thai silk drapery and bed covers.  I think the rooms in the garden wing are newer, as well as fewer but we were happy with our choice, especially with the balcony over-looking the river.

As you know I have always wanted to stay there, such a storied establishment.  The other day I was watching one of these James Bond films from the 70's, and it featured a dinner scene with a ditzy blond on the riverside terrace.

The rooms at the Peninsula are larger and snazzier but I felt that the Oriental was a little bit warmer, though this may be because we stayed for a little bit longer.

Bellied up to the Bamboo Bar at about 11pm. Listened to some superb jazz, fronted by an American woman aptly named "Battle", apt because she had the stage presence of a battleship…She was supported by a group of engagingly glum looking Russians, who have been exiled to those hardly desolate banks of the Chao Phraya for the past 8 years.  Beneath Ms Battles iron clad vocals was a musical combination of Stalinist order and discipline, and deep deep soul.  Never been one much for Jazz, but I must say I really liked it.

On Saturday morning sky trained it to the end of the line and Jim Thompson's house, for some reason, the wife and I are tickled by the story of the life of Mr. Thompson.  You know ex-CIA, built a house from recycled teak, jumpstarted the local silk industry, went for a morning walk in the Cameron Highland and disappeared.

After that dropped off at Siam Paragon, one station down.  Now that is a hell of a Mall.  Enormous, all the usual suspects were present, Gucci, Pucci, Todds, Versace, Zegna to name a few, Armani in all his guises.  There is an enormous food hall in the basement and luxury car dealers round the corner. To no avail tried to get the wife to invest in some Pucci and got out of the Bottega Venetta store by the skin of my visa card.

 

Had a happy trawl round the huge basement aquarium, saw much to eat.

Dinner at Le Banyan.  I found some mixed reports on this place, but I think you were right to recommend it.  For what it was, it was charming in its way.

I had the scallops and prawns in pastry to start, the wife had snails.  As a second starter she had the pan-fried foie gras with fruit and I had the foie gras terrine.  I liked both my starters, as did the wife, but her foie gras was a little bit flabby on the plate.  I know its supposed to be fatty, but I think that it should sort of stand up on the plate all sprightly, and pristine and not sag, which this one did a bit.  We had pressed duck for 2 as a main.   A bit of a novelty, they do this big show of squeezing the life out of a duck with a big silver press.  They then make the sauce from the duck juice right in the dining room.  Thankfully, they didn't do it table side, but across the room next to some other couple. 

This was kind of them; I hate the attention when they do all that table side cooking.  The other couple I guess is one that is quite common in Thailand.  They were both younger than us, the guy farang, looking kind of Mediterranean, the girl, local, pretty, wearing daisy dukes and 4 inch heels.  They sat down and ordered, then the guy left the girl to have a smoke in the bar with one of the owners, then happily stayed there until the poor thing had to go fetch her man to eat.  Nice one.

The duck was ok I guess, a bit like the foie, not quite as sparkling and as pristine as you would like.  The food is sturdy French rustic, pretty robust but not as well judged as the meal that we had at Auberge Dab last year.

On the whole, it was a reasonable slice of Bangkok life, with a warm enough welcome and a pretty white house and garden.  The place is run by a couple of grizzled French gentlemen who seem to have been around a bit.  The end result is a nice example of what you could call cuisine expatriate.

We skipped the go-go bars, and meandered back to the hotel for more jazz.

On Sunday we visited Ayutthaya, again one of those place that I have always wanted to visit.  The capital of Thailand from about the 14th century to about the 17th, it was established around the time that the Siamese invaded and sacked Angkor, carting back to Siam the whole Khmer court, with their religious books and art.  It ended its time as a Royal capital with the invasion and subsequent sacking by the Burmese.

The ruins are not as impressive or old as the Khmer ruins, in Cambodia, and are set within a fairly built-up area.  There are one or two impressive mages, and the old royal compound is fairly atmospheric in some places.  Our guide tried to get us to ride an elephant round a part of the ruins, but as it was mid day we decided against this. 

Lunch was pleasant enough on a riverside restaurant.  It was crowded with locals, the best thing there were the grilled fresh water prawns.

The place had a dock in the front from which you can board one of those long tailed boats for a boat ride towards Bangkok.  We took up the offer from our guide of an hours boat ride after lunch down to a spot on the river where our car would collect us and get us back to Bangkok in time for a massage at the spa.

Well, feeling a little bit smug, a little bit sorted, we kind of swept onto our boat with as much regal bearing as we could muster.  A curt nod to the restaurant manager, and the boatman revved the engine, shaking the very timbers of the restaurant.

Well you know what happens next, the boatman attempts a three-point turn in the middle of the river, and the engine dies.   We narrowly avoid being run down by this huge riverboat and floating restaurant blaring Thai pop music, which has to almost stop dead in the water to avoid casualties.

The boatman then gets out his spanner and starts to tinker with the engine, while the boat floats lazily across the river, finally brushing up against the reeds at the opposite bank to the crowded restaurant.  On doing so, we hear a cheer rise from our former dining companions in the restaurant.

Dinner at C'yan at the Metropolitan.

I am sure that you have heard of this place, an oasis of polished black marble and clean minimalist lines next to the Banyan Tree.  It's terribly chic with yoga mats in every room and a spa called Shambhala.

The wife is not fond of the style, but I am a bit of a masochist, so take a perverse pleasure in having it constantly beaten onto my head that I'm not very cool and could do with a couple of weeks of detox and yoga.

We had the tasting menu that paired each course with a different wine by the glass.  The quality of both food and wine was excellent and at 4185 Baht per head, I felt represented better value than Le Banyan.

Oysters to start, two of them, one covered in flavoured ice, the other hot with harissa.  Nice touch, the cool (temperature) and sweet contrasting well with the hot (heat) and sour.

Yabbies came with a nice Marlborough Sauvignon Blac.

Duck foie gras, nicely pristine and looking like they were carved from a mallard not averse to using that yoga mat.  It came with a glass of sauternes.

A seared hiramasa was unfortunately the low point; the fish might have been hanging about too long in the kitchen, though the hiramasa sashimi served as an amuse bouche was quite alright.

For the main, and the highlight, slow charcoal grilled wagyu with a glass of Halkin Estate Shiraz 1998.

C'yan is just off the lobby were you usually find the hotel coffee shop.  So you wonder what exactly you will get.  It overlooks the stark modern pool, which doubles as a water feature. 

For most of our meal we were the only people there, and were well looked after. The place is clearly well funded, being able to churn out such a well-judged meal, made with superb ingredients, in a restaurant with no turn over or covers.

We managed to get into the Met bar, again empty save for a couple of forlorn looking giraffe women.

Returned for our last night at the Bamboo Bar and an early night for a Monday morning run to the airport.

Regards.