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Lo-and-behold! I am now an iPhone user.
Yes, I now belong to that group of poseurs who whip out their sleek and shiny looking phones and start swiping their screens with their fingers, while flipping their phones horizontally then vertically, and then horizontally again.
It's great fun, the iPhone is. I never realised how much I actually like it when I didn't even pay much attention to it in the first place when it was the talk of the town.
Well, I guess the disadvantage of owning a cool gadget (cool = an Apple product) is that people will think that you're rich. Yup! A passing comment from a colleague one day jolted me to my senses and made me think: "So this is what you actually think!"
But no, I did not get it at a full price of $800+ and neither did I get it with a contract. It's actually a secondhand phone and I paid around $400+ to get it and that's quite a large sum of money to me, considering how my bonus is pro-rated. Boo.
Yet I really cannot resist the temptation of the iPhone! So I succumbed and forked out the money to buy it from the seller, when I really should be keeping the cash instead.
Damn I feel guilty!
My only consolation will be to keep reminding myself that it'll be really useful especially for Internet addicts like Bunny and me.
As one grows with age, one tends to reminisce the times when you were a just a child - a one metre tall human being who knew naught of this world and only believed in another dimension that is probably parallel to ours - one that is laden with mythical beings and happy endings.
During the first 8 years (or probably 9, I can't quite recall) of my life, I truly and genuinely believed in Santa Claus (gasp!).
I believed that there was this fat and fatherly figure (aren't all fatherly figures fat?) who would visit my house, bearing gifts. I used to wonder how he would squeeze into the thin chimney of my home. We did not have a fireplace, hence that metal pipe on top of my roof just HAD to be the chimney. I also grumbled about not having a fireplace to dangle stockings over so that Santa could put our presents inside them.
I would fantasize and try to figure out how Santa was going "break" into my house since I had a chimney that could not even fit a possum (God help those pests).
I would even stay awake on Christmas Eve, in order to detect any sound or movement which could prove that there was a sentinel being in my house. Reindeer bells, a loud thump on the roof perhaps? I probably heard it one year, but it's just a child's wild imagination I guess.
I left cookies and a glass of milk on the kitchen bench, which wasn't too far from the (real) Christmas tree, as according to tradition.
And on Christmas Day itself, I remember waking up abruptly, rushing to the tree.....and...
TA-DAH!!!! I found presents! But the milk and cookies were left untouched. Boo!
Come to think of it, I have my parents to thank for keeping the "Christmas spirit" alive...for making me believe that there really was a Santa Claus. For allowing me to dream...
I don't know when and I don't know how...I soon forgot about Father Santa. I forgot that I had to leave some milk and cookies for him. I literally forgot about him and soon he morphed into some useless and boring Christmas tree ornament, worse yet, 2D Christmas card art.
I guess that's how it is, living in "angmohland". You truly believe in certain traditions and the people around you try to keep the "spirit" alive.
From the age of 10 or so onwards, Christmas became just another day in a year. During my teens, it then quickly transformed into ad-hoc get-together sessions between friends, booze-infused and without the gift exchanges, although a small number of Christmas gatherings have been meaningful and well-planned.
Right now, at the grand old age of 27, I wish I could believe in Santa Claus again...that jolly, fatherly figure in red and white, squeezing through my HDB window grills and dumping presents into my room...
I want to believe so...simply because it makes Christmas more bearable...it makes Christmas truly Christmas.
I suppose only kids have a ball of a time during the festive season. Good on 'em.
Last but not least, a truly Merry Christmas to all of you out there, where ever you may be.
And may the New Year bring good joy and cheer. :)
Shall take a hiatus from my Europe trip log since there's simply just too much to upload and blab about, and dedicate one entry to "life as an online journo" so far.
It's been about two months now and the experience so far has been rather eventful and challenging nonetheless.
In two months, I've learnt how to be the "duty person" (person who's in charge of breaking news and managing the homepage) from what I reckon is intensive training.
I've been on regular, night and morning shifts - morning shifts starting at 530am was quite an experience for such a late night person like me. All I can say is that it's quite a terrible shift.
I've been to a few events - I won't say I've gotten the hang of it because I haven't. And there's an event tomorrow which I'll have to play by ear because no information was given to me at all. This is really what I call "on-the-job training". Requires you to work your EQ more than anything else!
I've translated, re-written and written a number of stories. Initially, I found it quite baffling. I didn't know what was it that they wanted - fanciful, descriptive, straight-reporting, or...? Took me a few re-writes, write-ups and translations to get the hang of it but sometimes I still find myself quite challenged by the story in front of me.
Therefore, I now time myself. Yes. A strange way to gauge my progress but it allows me to understand the way I work better. Recently, I realise I don't take as long as I used to when it came to translating a Chinese story. I spend less time pondering on how to re-write and I've found it easier to write a story especially when the interview or event is fresh in your mind.
Of course, small errors and grammatical mistakes tend to occur when one is "speed-writing".
I have a few bylines now - ones which I always send to my dad to read so that he knows what's going on in Asia and how I'm doing at work. Plus he's such a current affairs person, so he loves to read anything that has got to do with news.
I watched the entire Mumbai and Bangkok incidents unfold concurrently and it was during that fateful week for so many people in India and Thailand, that I realised how grateful I am to be an amateur journo who's work is fully and purely online based. For if I were to be at the front line covering such stories, I would probably die from a wretched heart and a jaded soul.
Perhaps what affected me was that I interviewed a friend of my ex-boss who happened to land on the day the attacks began in Mumbai, and to actually know someone stuck there in such a tumultuous situation, really made me sit up and pay attention to the wires, ensuring the situation didn't worsen. And it did.
I've produced a few videos - a very time consuming task due to shortage of manpower on both ends and probably underlying politics.
I'm beginning to grow fond of my team mates - those smart, friendly, learned and helpful journos. They seem to be a bunch of nice and hardworking people, although initially I felt that the environment was quite cold and sterile. I soon learnt that they take quite a lot of time warming up to newcomers.
There's just so much to say about my new career path and I guess one sentence sums it up: I'm loving it despite the random odd hours, despite the lack of "Journalism 101" skills, and despite not possessing the basic training and foundation most of my Literature and Arts teammates have. I must admit I did feel a bit out of place when everyone assumed I was a local grad. Nevertheless, I think I can learn a lot from them, work related or not.
Everyday is a different work day for me and I'm glad to finally heave a sigh of relief and say, "I think I've found what I enjoy doing."
We woke up during the wee hours of the morning and made our way by bus and tube to Victoria Station.
And while doing so, we encountered one of the persistent problems in London - tube delays during peak hours.
Thank goodness we managed to arrive at our pick-up point way before the coach arrived.
Standing in the cold without a jacket results in a runny nose.
Our first pit-stop was Stonehenge.
For those who DON'T know what Stonehenge is (and may you be forgiven for your ignorance), it is a prehistoric monument located 13km from Salisbury.
What's so amazing about this monument is that no one knows how it was constructed, why it was there and what was its purpose. Archaeologists can only theorize and the generally accepted theory of Stonehenge is that it was probably erected around 2500 BC. However, the surrounding circular ditch, which was the earliest phase of the monument, actually dates as far back as 3100 BC!
New archaeological evidence indicates that Stonehenge served as a burial ground from its earliest beginnings.
We weren't allowed to go up to the stones but from what I read online, some tour groups do offer tours that allow you to go right up to the stones, and only during certain occasions. I can't quite remember but all I can remember about Stonehenge was that it was bloody cold, windy and exposed!
One would have thought that the site where Stonehenge sits is somewhere remote, in the middle of nowhere with nothing surrounding it, but no, I was wrong. In fact, two highways cross at the side of the hill where Stonehenge is situated, thus causing it to lose its mystical quality, because you see cars and trucks whizzing past. And those drivers will most probably be thinking that we tourists are such suckers.
Apparently, the day we chose to visit Stonehenge coincided with the winter equinox or something like that. We saw some news vans there - BBC and the likes - but I didn't quite catch what my guide said when she explained why it was such a special day to visit Stonehenge. I thought I heard her mention druids who were already there at dawn? I can't recall but I do remember seeing plenty of caravans. I wonder why they were there though since their annual druidic rituals at Stonehenge only happens during the Summer Solstice in July.
After a 40-minute stop at Stonehenge, we boarded the bus which brought us to Bath.
Ahhh, Bath...
Bath, an extremely enigmatic and charming town with so much history behind it - even the pig statues we saw around the town was related to the beginnings of Bath.
Most tourists (us included) usually visit Bath to see the Roman Baths but what we didn't expect from this visit was that the town itself had captivated us in every aspect.
From yellow sandstone houses to the swelling river that cuts through the town, it's understandable why Bath was frequented by poets, authors, actors, and the likes. Bath was the leading centre of fashionable life in England during the 18th century. Anyone who was anybody came to Bath - the rich and famous, the rich and not-so-famous, and the aristocrats, of course - all flocked to Bath. Authors such as Jane Austen spent a significant part of her life in Bath (and in London as well), as well as artists such as Gainsborough, and inventors such as John Oliver.
Perhaps they drew inspiration from the quiet and sleepy town, away from the hustle and bustle of London; or perhaps there is a certain magical quality about this place that one falls in love with upon first sight. But whatever it is, no one leaves Bath without feeling that one was propelled back into time and watching the world go by ever so slowly.
It's also no wonder that Bath was chosen as one of the World Heritage cities. What's amazing was that it escaped the bombings of the WWII due to its reputed beauty (the Nazis had mercy on it).
It's a pity we didn't and couldn't get a shot of the magnificent terrain that Bath is built upon. We managed to see it on our ride to Bath, but we weren't able to get a shot of the entire area. I guess it looks very different when you see it with your own eyes and pictures wouldn't do it any justice at all.
We were dropped off at the town central:
Bath Abbey - the "knock knock" and "why did the chicken cross the road?" jokes originated from this abbey.
Entrance to the Roman Baths
It's quite self-explanatory - the Roman Baths were public bathing houses built over hot springs during the Roman occupation of Britain. The Celts had known of this site and had built a shrine dedicating it to the goddess Sulis, hence the town's Roman name Aquae Sulis - "the waters of Sulis".
Great Bath
The water is undrinkable. I wouldn't suggest you dip in it either as there are tons of bacteria and infectious diseases in it. Well, you could try to swallow a mouthful and see if you mutate.
The Sacred Spring - if you looked closely, you will be able to see some bubbles coming from beneath.
One of the many artifacts from the museum.
Some remains of the historic site.
Caladrium - The floor has been removed to reveal the empty space which the hot air used to flow through to heat the floor. These areas used to be rooms.
Frigidarium (cold pool) - heat enlarges your pores so the cold pool is for you to close them. We threw a coin inside instead.
The museum and archaeological remains were quite extensive but we didn't have time to go through everything as we were starving by then and really wanted to explore the town as well.
A busker using some ancient machine he built himself.
Searching for food!
Lunch was at a pub nearby (forgot its name - must be something like "The Goat and the Pig" or "The Hog's Pie"...or some pub-sounding name).
Another great love of ours - pub food. Not too expensive, delicious and very filling. I had the steak ale pie with peas and Bunny had lasagne with garlic bread and salad. Absolutely fantastic. We love pub food! But the bad thing is, you don't get decent pub food for decent prices in London city.
After downing my steak ale pie with root beer, while Bunny downed her meal with a beer, we continued our exploration of Bath town. Thank goodness the town wasn't huge so we managed to go everywhere (well, almost) by foot.
River Avon with Pulteney Bridge in the background. Pulteney Bridge is one of the four bridges in the world with shops across the full span on both sides:
Local Bath legend has it that the bridge was designed with an old woman in mind - one who washed her face but forgotten to wipe her arse as the front side of it looks pristine but the backside looks shabby.
Houses along this stretch cost millions of dollars - our guide told us that Nicholas Cage had recently bought a unit here and it was estimated to be around 8 million pounds!
The houses around this "circle" (or roundabout in modern terms), was built in the 18th century, Georgian architectural style. I think Dickens had a house here too but I can't quite remember.
Here are one of the reasons why I love London and the UK in general: there's a story behind every building and the story (or rather, symbolism) of the Circle goes like this.
Divided into three segments of equal length, the Circus is a circular space surrounded by large townhouses. Each of the curved segments faces one of the three entrances, ensuring that whichever way a visitor enters there is a classical facade straight ahead.
Three classical Orders are built on above the other - Greek Doric, Roman/Composite and Corinthian." Ok it's quite hard to explain this without actually seeing it for yourself, but in layman's terms, it's referring to the pillar-like structures we see often see on the exterior of a building. The ground level of the houses in the Circus have a Greek Doric pillar, second levels had Roman pillars and the last level had Corinthian pillars.
The frieze (above) was decorated with 525 pictorial emblems, including serpents, nautical symbols, devices representing the arts and science, as well as masonic symbols.
The parapet is adorned with acorns. AH-HA! Why acorns? Because they're related to the pigs. Pigs again? What has Bath got to do with pigs?? Well, you'll have to go there to find out.
Oh, and this is really quite interesting:
When viewed from the air the Circus along with Queens Square and the adjoining Gay Street form a key shape which is a masonic symbol.
Apparently, the architect of the Circus - John Wood the Elder - and his son, John Wood the Younger, were very much interested in the occult and masonic symbolism, hence the symbols and architectural layouts of the Circus and the Royal Crescent.
You see, so much history and detail in one Circus. Imagine what else is out there in the UK!
Our adventure in Bath was about to come to an end as we strolled back to the town centre.
We boarded the coach and as we drove through Royal Victoria Park towards the Royal Crescent, our guide was telling us some local history of the place and one of them was that all buildings built in Bath had to comply to the "colour scheme" of the town. The entire town was built of yellow sandstone, so new buildings had to have that colour and Georgian architecture.
Also, some windows were sealed with cement because if you had glass, it meant you were wealthy and had to pay more taxes, so a lot of them went without windows at the side of the houses.
We arrived at the Royal Crescent about ten minutes later:
The Royal Crescent is a residential road of 30 houses. This is the rear, a private area that faces the park. The front of the houses is where the road is and for years, the residents had to put up with tour buses and coaches driving past their house and peering into their living area. So the road has now been closed and we can only view the Royal Crescent from the back.
It is really quite magnificent.
As we made our 2-hour journey back to London, our guide told us the history behind pigs and Bath, as well as the acorns we had seen on the top of the houses along the Circus.
We also went through the tiniest town in the UK and the only town that does not have a church - Pennsylvania. It's probably not even listed on the map because it's so tiny. Imagine you're sitting in a bus going at 50 km/h and count to 7. There you go. That's how big Pennsylvania is.
Back at London Victoria station.
I suggested shopping but I guess we were too beat to stay out so we dragged our feet back to Emm's.
We bought some dips, crackers, milk and yoghurt from Tesco along the way back, took a shower and huddled in front of the TV watching L Word and eating crackers with dips.
I guess we lacked a fireplace, otherwise it would have been a perfect London night.
Lo-and-behold! I am now an iPhone user.
