Sick-ney part II

Being too lazy to drive out to Hunter Valley and probably tired of being behind the wheel, we took the car on a half-full tank for a last spin around the city and drove to the viewing point near the Wharf before doing the compulsory circuit of the Sydney Opera House, bridge and harbour at dusk. F and i were here as backpacking unni students 10 years ago and nothing's really changed. I could still remember the awe at first sight of the Sydney iconic structure whereas now we're probably more jaded.

When the sun set, we strolled around the Rocks area and spent happy hour at one of the trendy waterfront bars, lapping up the A$3 potent screwdrivers and priceless view of the harbour against the lavender-pink sunset. With or without alcohol, we never failed to reduce into a bunch of silly 18 year-olds everytime we meet up (ok admittedly worse when there's cheap abundant booze!). B was a fabulous tour guide as we walked through the city's spanky district in search of dinner.

Admittedly I found Sydney more culturally integrated and welcoming from the friendly vibes and many enclaves from the bustling Korean, Spanish and Chinatown quarters. Dinner was an abundant affair of ginseng chicken soup, hot stone rice, fried vermicelli and eggy pancake in the comfort of this cosy family-ran Korean restaurant. The World Cup soccer fans were out in full force and I was just gaping at the 3 Brazilian hunks showing off their sizzling Capoeira stunts in their super tight yellow-green outfits around the street corner.


The next day, we woke up early and headed for the almost 2-hr 6km Coogee-Bondi Coastal Walk passing by many dream retirement villas at Gordons bay and Clovelly. The serene cliffside Waverley Cemetery overlooked the great blue ocean and apparently you could find the graves of many famous Australians here but we spotted the headstones of many young infants dating to the early 1900s. The hike was gently sloping and none too challenging but soon we found ourselves peeling off the layers under the sun's harsh glares at high noon.

The coastal views were as stunning as the cute surfers in their skin-tight wetsuits and we were wondering aloud how cold the waters were. Past noon, I found myself geared up with a good appetite at one of Bondi's many italiani ristoranti. The oysters and seafood pasta were alrite but none too impressive while I - being the craddle-snatcher - was making eyes at the boyish waiter. An hour later, we nearly choked on the awful dry chocolate cakes at a mall's cafe and comforted ourselves with bags of trendy purchases.

On another early morning, we headed to Sydney Fish Market which turned out to be a major disappointment. The oysters, salmon sashimi and cooked seafood were way below our expectations and I was left with a sour taste which luckily was salvaged by a post-lunch gelato and latte caffe at one of Newtown's many cafes. I liked the buzz here and the shops were great for retail therapy. When I bought a red polka-dot top, the Thai shopkeeper asked if I was Vietnamese or Thai, to which I said none of them but 'kor-poon-ka' anyway!

On our last night, just when I thought I'd never remember Sydney for a good meal, B brought us to this really fantastico and cosy ristorante 'Strangers with Candy' tucked away in a quiet neighbourhood (visit www.strangerswithcandy.com.au). The waitress kept saying 'si' as we placed our orders for the stunning starters of duck liver & brandy paté w red onion jam & ciabatta, and braised pork belly w a shao hsing, soy & ginger jus. The mains of barrunmundi, seafood spaghetti and duck confit were also faultless though we were trembling a tad from sitting in the small cold backyard. I couldn't remember the names of the desserts but all it mattered was they were darn divine!

Sick-ney

The drive from Port Campbell was delayed by a water crisis where the town's supply was interrupted and we all had to wash up from a mineral bottle (even poor A who had a shit before realising there's no acqua!) It wasn't much fun on a f%cking cold wintry morning lor! After wiping the layer of ice off our Mitsubishi Outlander, we cut thro' miles of miserable fog and finally got a slice of sunshine at Campertown, a quaint town marked by a memerising row of tall blooming trees.

The rugged scenery was lovely and we took turns at the wheel so our eyes were not just focused on the speed cameras and animal warnings. I must say Aussie drivers are such a nice law-abiding bunch. Halfway thro, I got stopped by a lady cop who pointed out that I had exceeded the speed limit of 50km/h (I sheepishly admitted that I was going at 110km/h) and put me thro' my first breath-analyser test! Yay! I passed it of course since it was only 11am (darn, is this country full of alcoholics?). A pity the gang didn't take a photo of the hilarious scene when I was blowing into the kit!

Since it was the Queen's birthday holiday weekend, most B&Bs in the Wangaratta wine region were full and we had to contend with a stay in Albury town. At least it was close enough to Rutherglen and the receptionists pointed us to the All Saints estate, 45mins' drive away. As it was already pitch dark at 5pm and the signs unclear, we got lost and only reached the vineyard 1 and 1/2 hours later hungry, thirsty and frustrated.

Fortunately our table was reserved by the bubbly waitress who piled it with French-style country fare such as a superb goat's curd souffle with rocket-pear salad and huge portions of steak with perfectly roasted rosemary potatoes - along with a bottle of St Leonard's gold medal Merlot at only A$30 (molto economico!). As Rutherglen was known for their dolce dessert-style vino, we gladly coughed up A$55 for each half bottle of 25 year-old Grand Tokay and Muscat - both liquid gold sliding down our throats. Too bad we didn't have time to explore the cellar doors at the other estates, otherwise we'd lag back more than 4 bottles!

The next morning, we left Albury early on a 6-hour drive to Sydney and found Brian MIA in his Hyde Park apartment. We drove around till I spotted him blinding in his bermudas on the cold wintry streets. In my excitement, I screamed his name which echoed in the streets and caused everyone to turn and stare at the crazed bitch. Welcome to Sydney!

B's small apartment was more than made up by its central location and killer view overlooking the park and harbour. Ever the culinary host, he pampered us with a soul-satisfying homecooked dinner and lots of good laughs. We worked off the calories with a brisk 15mins walk to King's Cross for some live cabaret action at Bar Me, a cosy underground joint packed to the last chair (A$20 for cover). Then followed by a round of yummy Pink Lychee Caiprinha at Libertine, an achingly hip Vietnamese restaurant-bar. King's Cross still had the same pulsating energy as I recalled 10 years ago - just trendier and less seedy now. We trotted to have the glorious beef pies with mash pea and hot dripping gravy at Harry's Cafe de Wheels (A$4.95). This punk jumped queue and I put him in his place! V@ff@nculo!

12 eroded stones

After picking up our rented car, we bid Melbourne arrivederci and embarked on a 6-hour drive to Port Campbell to see the famous 12 Apostles. The early part of the journey was fog-ridden and the visibility a mere 50 metre but the scenery was magical and I stared out at the forest blanketed by the mist - lost in my thoughts about Italia and how everything paled in comparison. Si, sono pazza ma Italia mi mancha tanto, anche se sono in vacanza in Australia!

I missed the rolling hills of Toscana landscape, the rugged cliffs of Cinque Terre, the lush hills of Casa Lanzarotti, the earthiness of Puglia and breathtaking beauty of Sicilia. Devo tornare presto altrimenti saro essere pazzissima... Anyway the fog cleared as we neared the coastal towns Geelong and surfing capital Torquay where stopped for a spot of surfwear shopping and brekkie (served by 2 Aussie hunks - hell, about time!).

On the long Great Ocean Road, we were greeted by wonderful vistas of the dramatic coastal line around each curving bend dotted with designer vacation superhomes, wild koala bears coodling in the trees and farm animals grazing on stretches of green fields. According to the travel brochure, the ocean road approaching its 75th anniversary was the world's biggest war memorial; handbuilt by returned WWI soldiers in honour of their fallen comrades. Ha, bet you didn't know that.

Just then, I was about to burst from a full bladder and luckily we found a freezing public toilet in a car park soon enough! By 4pm, we finally rolled into Port Campbell Park where we followed the tourist path to see the 12 Eroded Stones (my nickname for the Apostles). The sun was in our face and the light too glaring to take any decent postcard pictures but hey, we tried our best.

As the sun set, the temperature dipped to 4 deg C and I felt like we were trapped in a horror film where vapour streamed with every word mouthed. The South Ocean villa was tres chic - compact yet full of character - ripped out of the pages of Vogue Living. That night, we savoured the Melbourne appetisers and popped the sparkling Shiraz while I cooked a comforting macaroni soup with chicken and vegetables to sooth our weary tastebuds.

Down under fantastico

Ciao! Mi dispiace (sorry) if I was MIA for the past month; I just came back from a 10-day winter escapade in Australia with my good pals - a long awaited promise to my mate Brian in Sydney. It had been 10 years since our last visit to Down Under and things hadn't really changed much. The trip kicked off with 2 full days in Melbourne where we stayed at Albany boutique hotel in the posh South Yarra area, close to shopping/cafe central Chapel Street.

Being a virgin traveller in Melbourne, the city was a fresh breath of air literally especially when the cold wind caused us to go blue in the face at a constant 10 deg C. Based on my poll with Melbournites, we soaked up the vibes at Swanston Street (mall, mall & more mall), Degraves St & Central Place (good buzz), Federation Square (its alrite) and South Bank overlooking the city skyline.

A kind elderly tourist guide pointed us to lunch at the recommended Hardware Lane where we decided on Cafe Miro's delizioso offerings of chef's antipasto (beautiful cheese, ham & grilled vegs), hearty pastas and vino bianco to celebrate our first meal here. Dinner was at La Camera, a casual Italian joint at South Bank where diners were lapping up the thin-crusted pizzas. It was amazing how much Italiana cucina has caught on here at every corner and street; you'd think it's little Italia everywhere! Si, è vero!

By mistake, we took a wrong tram and ended up at Toorak and Chapel Street where we found room for some dolce, caffe and hot chocolate at the popular Cafe Greco. The counter was gleaming with chunky slabs of cakes and Greek desserts - guaranteed to send you to diabetic heaven. Adriano obliged me without much persuasion and shared the huge slice of warm apple crumble with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Yum... how not to put on weight like that?

The next morning, we headed straight for brekkie at the Queens Victoria Market - a great haunt for fresh seasonal local produce from artichokes and beetroot to cherry tomatoes and dried apricot. There were all kinds of potatoes, aplenty cuts of fresh meats, freshly shucked oysters and gleaming seasonal fruits (3 bloody rambutans were A$5 - siao!). I could hang out here all day blissfully staring at and tasting the produce. Now if only I have access to a kitchen!

At the gourmet hall, a couple of young Aussie stall owners teased us 'Hey, you're Singaporeans? Come try lah, don't pray pray!' and we rolled our eyes at them, before loading up on the creamiest feta, proscuitto and salmon rolls stuffed with cheese and wild rocket leaves. i couldn't resist a cheap A$10 bottle of sparkling Shiraz - in preparation for our long drive to Port Campbell.

In the evening, it got really cold and I had to pile on the clothes and gloves looking like a squeezable rolly orange bundle - A said he could spot me from far and I won't get lost in the crowds! Haha. We kinda had a love-hate relationship with the cold winter climate but we all agreed it was such a refreshing change from the perennial heat and humidity back home. After more shopping at Chapel Street, we met up with Rory - B's Irish boyfriend - for a pint and warm dinner in front of the fire place at James Squire pub. The oysters were glorious, mussels in wine plump, and Chicken parma (supposedly a Melbourne specialty) hearty and generous.


Since it was our last evening, I was adamant on hunting down a decent Vietnamese meal - yes even after the bloody full dinner! By sheer dumb luck, we stumbled upon this Viet place opposite Chinatown which claimed that Bill Clinton had 2 bowls of pho there! So we couldn't resist and tuck into a steaming bowl of pho each. I nearly puked from overeating - that was how greedy I was! Gross. Now I know why it's so easy to pile on the kilos in winter.

Bangkok di nuovo

The following morning, F and I settled into our 'organic' breakfast of miso soup, veg noodles, omelette and breads, after first knocking back a shot of warm apple vinegar (I only managed half, weak-arse!). Boy, did it kickstart our system - both of us were fighting for the toilet afterwards!

After a delightful tour of the premises, we checked out of Baan Thai and into Shanghai Inn, a gorgeous new boutique hotel in the heart of Chinatown, which is marked by the hectic commerce (shark's fin, anyone?) and maddening traffic. The cab driver was once again lost much to our dismay and we found ourselves stuck in the choking heat and jam. I told F if we were in the Amazing Race, now would be the time when I'd strangle him and take over the wheels.

Anyway we located the inn soon enough and it was chinoiserie chic through and through, from the lobby to the rooms. Imagine the looming bedframes, Chinese ink-painting wallpaper next to splashes of funky colours and paper lanterns. We oohed and ahhed at every detail till we heed the call for shopping at the Chatuchak weekend market!

We walked to the train station and popped into a cutesy air-conditioned cafe for lunch of Pad Thai and a glass noodle seafood salad. It wasn't what I expected but it was nonetheless lip-smackingly simple and gorgeous to look at. When we got to the market, it was madness in the thick of the heat as the weekenders built up and squeezed through the narrow corridors. But bargains found us easily and our bags were full in a matter of 3 hours.

In the evening after a good scrub-down, we strolled to this Chinese restaurant in Chinatown for their oh-so-good famous crab vermicelli in claypot. F ordered more than we should (golden rule 1 dish for 1 pax!) and we had to tah-pao the crustacean back (which we never ate for supper, pity).

The restaurant was a hoot - so old-skool and quaint - like steppin back into the early 80s. The waitresses were clad in these loud purplish uniform and the manager so eager to please in his 70s gray jacket. Then I was happily sucking my crab claw when I saw this man peeing in the loo located next to the kitchen and almost choked! F nagged "see some more lah!"

Later we hung out at the breath-taking Sirrocco Bar on top of the State Tower which overlooked the city twinkling in the dark horizon. As it was the eve of the elections, there was a ban on alcohol (oh freakin shit!) and we had to contend with our virgin mojitos and gourmet nuts (soothed by the hot towels - that's service for you!). The cute but slightly feminine bartender chatted us up and told us it was also a stupid idea to impose the ban. Oh well, we just had to get high on the 360-degree view.

The next day, we checked out Chinatown for lots of cheap buys ($1 earrings!) and our favourite stall of Thai iced coffee and tea before packing our bags for the airport. F was addicted to Milo, the sweet little pup at the stall and we patted its head and promised we'll be back soon! (P.S: in fact I found myself back in the capital from 2 - 4 June with my ALOFQs hardcore foodie gang)

Sawadeeeee

On Thursday, Ferne and I flew to Bangkok by Jetstar (my first time on no-fuss budget air -not as painful as I imagined) and two hours later, we were greeted by a heat wave as we stepped into the crackling hot dusty air. With my printed map, the Thai-speaking driver found Baan Thai Wellness Retreat easily - a serene and lush oasis in the concrete heart of bustling Sukhumvit - and we seeked cool relief in our ancient teakwood royal 'baan' followed by a delightful five-course Thai spa cuisine meal.

The food was insane, the carved vegetables and fruits so pretty and hospitality as warm as the weather - it was perfect untill we had to step out for some retail therapy at the nearby Emporium. But all was fine again when we returned for our soul-soothing saunas and massages; all the knots smoothed away with every firm knead by the male masseurs. Ahh...

In the evening, we checked out the highly recommended Chong Nam in Silom and gobbled down the bubbling pot of Tom Yam Khun (prawns), deepfried cotton fish with mango salad and green curry over white rice. I was gasping by the time F insisted on the dessert of coconut jelly served in the husk. "It's f%cking good', she pleaded and I was convinced after the first spoonful, second, third and tenth...

At 10pm, it poured like a bitch and dampened our party mood which we were mastering up for Q Bar and Bed Supperclub. The flooded streets, our lost cab-driver and drowsy state made us give up the clubbing itinerary despite the promise of free drinks at Q. Back at Baan Thai, I discovered that my luggage was damp and our walk-in wardrobe leaking (a drawback of staying in a 75-year old teakhome) - I whined at no one and the 'exotic' Thai figures on the bathroom laughed back. Luckily we were promptly upgraded to a bigger room downstairs by the horrified, apologetic staff.

The next morning, we were as bright as the bougainvillas outside our poolside windows and met up with the lovely C who brought us on the arranged morning tour of the local wet markets. The vegs and fruits were shiny, catfishes jumping and wrestling in mud and the whiff of spices and fermented specialties pervaded our nostrils.

Fuelled by the frenzy of sights, sounds and smells, I went mad and bought the half kilo palm sugar, bottles of chilli pastes and dried chilli flakes, while trying to snap the cute 5-year-old granddaughter of the provision shop auntie. She was as slippery as the catfish and refused to be shot!

We then arrived at The Blue Elephant where we whipped up four Thai dishes (including a devilish red curry) in an hour and I talked shop with the hospitable Herve over a sumptuous lunch. The dishes kept coming and I could only recall a flurry of a platter of fried appetiser, salmon in sweet basil dressing, foie gras with tamarind sauce, pomelo salad, tom yam khun soup, heaps of steaming rice - in addition to our self-cooked four dishes! I begged H to stop and he merely grinned and ordered a platter of Thai desserts and chocolate souffle, which I couldn't resist and smiled 'oui' to.

With a full belly, we rushed back for our sauna, scrubs and Asian Blend massages (I was praying that I won't throw up) and soon lulled into a blissful state in the cool of the scented room. Everything was divine, except for the buzzing mosquito that bit me on my cheek. The masseur reacted swiftly with an accurate karate chop on my face and we all laughed when I went 'ouch'! Later we went to the Suanlom night market at Lumphini for a spot of grilled chicken and shopping till midnight.

Mezzo Anno

The end of Marzo marked the turn of half a year since my 'self-discovery'. I didn't know if I was doing myself a favour by counting the months and making life worse as my heart bled with greater longing. What was looking up in my life and my greatest joy is mio italiano corso all'instituto. Si, adesso comincio il corso dell'elemantario 2 e il mio italiano e' migliorato ma ancora scrivo meglio di parlo la lingua. Devo parlare piu spesso ma e' difficile trovare qualcuno.

Questa settimana, vado a Bangkok per vancanza con la mia amica per festeggiare il suo compleanno(about time, perche my bum's been itching from travel lust). I know there had been reported political protests in the Thai capital leading up to the 2 April snap poll, but we had booked the flight way in advance - so we'll just take the chance. Anyway I have always been mistaken for a Thai (it's the Pan-Asian look marked by a perennial tan, big mouth and great smile!), so no problem blending in. Sawadeeeee-ka!

March also marked the birthdays of many close friends - Gary, Ferne, Andy, Jamie, Daniella - plus Alessandro and Elena in Italia. She was surprised to receive my letter and birthday card 2 weeks ago (sent 3 weeks ago before that!) while Aless would be celebrating his big 40th birthday with a house party. He said spring time had arrived and I could imagine how crisp the weather. His best friend Alberto smsed me whom Aless was trying to convince to visit me in August, so we'll see!

Chile Buddy

Fate worked in mysterious ways and last week, by some freak twist, it helped me to gain a new friend from Chile! Jessica Paola Benavides Arroyo (which means means "daughter of good") had replied to my email with a tentative 'Hi, how did you get my email?' and I replied 'Ciao, er, you're not Eka?' Apparently all this while, our emails have not reached my classmate Eka in our Italian class as the email address was wrong. So this poor girl in Chile was probably wondering what the hell was going on! In her own words, she admitted 'I was quite angry because my mail was always full of those messages but now I´m so happy.' Happy to know this 'ragazza' all the way from Singapore!

Jessica is 27, works at the bank as a cashier and lives with her 9 year-old son Benjamin, 20 year-old brother Victor, mum Ana and dad Hernan on a little Island Calbuco in southern Chile. She had studied at the British Institute of Culture in Santiago for two years so could speak very good English - which was a relief as my Spanish was limited to 'lo siente' (I'm sorry), la cuenta' (the bill), 'estupendo!' (wonderful!) and my favourite - 'donde estas la servicios?' (where is the toilet?).

Over the past few days, we exchanged info and pictures about our countries and she got me excited about the idea of backpcking in South America. There are three active volcanoes in southern Chile where she was staying - Calbuco, Villarica and Lonquimay - similar to the Aeolian islands off Sicily. Just over Saturday at Curanto, they had a cookout by stuffing a mixture of seafood and meats with hot rocks inside a hole in the ground. That reminded me of the time when we were young and my dad - ever the skilful fisherman - cooked the freshly-caught crabs by slathering them in red mud and left them to bake in a woodfire by the beach. To this day, we are still dining daily on his fresh catch! Anyway I think it was such a hoot that Jessica and I are email pals now - thousand of miles away from each other but linked by a mere mistake!

Mangiare tanto

This week, I suddenly felt a huge pang of homesickness for Italia. It didn't help that Alessandro miraculously replied to my email saying he has not received my Christmas card (merda! turned out he gave me an incomplete address) and has also text me to say he and his friends often spoke fondly of me. The skeptic in me (who also read 'He's Not That Into You') replied saying if he really wants to be with me, he can very well fly down here asap! Don't say only mah, fly here lah if you really want. Corright?

Marco and Anita, fresh from a five-week vacation in India, also emailed to say they've received my article on Barbialla Nuova and asked when I will be back to visit them. I almost sobbed out of frustration, saying soon, I hope. It'd be tricky this year as I have commited to a three-week June holiday spending some precious time with my old pal Brian and the 'gang'. But I'm setting my sights on a three-month 'borsa di studio' (scholarship) to polish la lingua italiana further at either Siena or Perugia next year, and have already 'warned' my business partners who think I'll probably stay in Italia for good this time!

For now, I could only devour updates from mates such as Lorenzo who sent me some pictures of Ciro and the estate which was covered in a thick icy blanket of snow. Oh my, I think I'd freeze my t*ts off if I were to live there! Lori will be going home to Sardinia for the splendid carnivals of Mamoiada (Mammuthones) and Oristano (Sartiglia) from 20 February to 1 March, where there is a horse competition and a procession of old masks. Benissima!

Elena had also been such a sweetheart by helping me find some information on 'appartamenti affitti' for my colleague's brother, who's going to spend 6 glorious months studying in Milano. Barely into their first honeymoon year, she and her husband Alberto are expecting a baby in Settembre! Congratulazioni, bella!

Anyway as a tribute to Italia, I cooked up a feast of my favourite dishes over the weekend to whet my appetito and here are some recipes and pictures for you to salivate over:

Classic Italian Caprese Insalata
Ingredients
1 packet of fresh buffalo mozzarella, sliced
1 large ripe tomato, sliced
1/4 cup of fresh basil leaves
Salt & fresh black pepper to taste
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil

Method
1. Overlap slices of tomato with slices of mozzarella and basil leaves.
2. Sprinkle with fine salt and freshly cracked black pepper, and drizzle with olive oil. Perfetto!
Notes: Don't mess too much with this classic recipe; if you want, add some rocket leaves on the side and a twist of lemon. You can also use cherry tomatoes and chopped mozzarella for a modern presentation.

Spaghetti con granchio, pomodoro e capperi
1 cup fresh cooked crabmeat
1 large fresh peeled tomato, chopped
25g sundried tomatoes, chopped
1 tablespoon capers di sicilia
1 clove garlic, minced
1 teaspoon oregano, dried or fresh
1 fresh red chilli, chopped or 1 teaspoon chill flakes
Salt n black pepper to taste
3 tablespoons olive oil
Spaghetti (cook pasta in boiling salted water for 8 mins or til al dente)

Method
1. Heat olive oil over moderate heat in pan and fry garlic till fragrant.
2. Add fresh tomatoes, sundried tomatoes and capers, and fry for about 5 minutes.
3. Add oregano, chilli, crabmeat, salt and pepper to taste and cook for another 3 minutes.
4. Add the cooked spaghetti to the pan and mix well with the sauce, e mangia adesso!