Krabi ciao for now

Four days crept by slowly but surely in paradiso and it was time to say goodbye. Our flight was at 5pm so luckily we could spend a few more precious hours on our favourite isle Railay; careful not to wet F and her fresh tattoo on the boatride. We were dying in the morning heat for our last Thai iced tea but the 2 cafes we came across only served ang-moh Lipton tea (even the local waiter apologised and said 'yes sir, thai tee better, more fray-gance').

Desperate and adamant, we trekked to Railay east and settled for homebrew Thai iced coffee instead at Juat Real Coffee, a little shack of a bar at The Cliffs Man. It probably looked really cool at night illuminated by the fairy lights and candles. In the bright harsh day, it was a run-down make-shift all-in-one club/tattooshop/mobile rockclimbing/laundry stop surrounded by a bed of rubbles and jungle. Two really bored kids looked on as the bar guy happily boiled and strained the local coffee blend into a shaker filled with ice.

It was fascinating to see how they managed to put the place together and I totally respect their sheer resourcefulness. The owner's creativity was also evident judging by the gallery of vivid artworks and prints. Further down the path lined by mangroves, there were more rustic open cafes with low seating patios overlooking the sea. I was sure this whole landscape would cave in to 'progress' and change drastically in 2 years' time. Molto depressing. Go now if you can.

We toasted ourselves for another hour and bid farewell to the friendly lady masseuse who in turn wished us good luck. Back on Aonang, I bargained gamely with the shopkeeper for my last souvenir of a beach towel (260baht). As it was drizzling, we camped at one of the many roti-stalls and indulged in our favourite snack du jour - thin crisp wafers of roti-prata sandwiched with banana and chocolate (15baht only!).

Lunch was a sober affair at Rimpa but we were easily cheered by the most exquisite salad of smoked eggplant, prawns, minced chicken and perfectly half-boiled egg in a velvety piccante dressing. The spicy-sour fish soup with lime made our toes curl while our tastebuds gave a standing ovation to the smoothest red curry with roast duck. Rimpa got 9 out of 10 in my little black book for unbeatable quality and finesse, and was a gratifying full-stop to our memorable holiday in Krabi. No wonder The Cliff was voted one of Thailand's 50 top hotels. Mark it down for the best eats and sleep.

Kermit in Krabi

After yet another satisfying rice porridge and tropical fruits brekkie by the pool, F yelled to me from the backyard toilet "there's a frog here! come quick!" and I found her in the midst of 'her business' pointing to a still Kermit in our little patch of garden. It was light brown, skinny and unblinking on all fours (and remained there dead until we checked out; poor guy had to put up with our shit literally).

For first-timers, Krabi offers a lot of diverse sights including its 80-odd islands, limestone caves, cascading waterfalls, whitewater-rafting, elephant treks, temples, even a fossil-shell cemetery. With Saturday as our remaining full day, we were tossing between options A) day trip to Klong Thom hot springs & Sa Morakot emerald pool, B) more island-hopping at the Hong isles or C) slacking at the nearby Poda island. As you'd guessed it, the latter won hands down.

The longtail boatride to Poda isle (300baht for 2-way), along with 3 other Irish tourists, was a bit choppy so we got splashed for a good 25mins and all I could think of was a second breakfast. Poda was a tad non-descript but at least it was tranquil and the beach was decent. We spent an hour tanning, swimming and fooling with the camera till the storm came and chased us to seek refuge at the only eatery there.

Yipee, I had my second breakfast of soup noodle while F had a tea to keep warm. I never really had a bad meal in Thailand but to my disappointment, the noodle was quite tasteless so I spiced it up with heaps of chilli flakes and fish sauce! The kampong joint was a laidback rustic hut and I hoped they keep it that way, no bigarse hotel or fast food per favore. Another hour of suntanning and shell-picking ensued and we were equally bored as the Irish so thus decided to head back to our favourite Aonang Cuisine restaurant for lunch.

After a freakin' piccante squid salad which set my tongue on fire, we lay our mats out on Aonang beach intent on more sun-soaking and laughed at the two hilarious sand mannequins that someone crafted. A teenage came up to me and asked 'wher u from?' I squinted at him: 'Spore' Him: 'rain here' and pointed at the dark clouds fast approaching. Before I could say 'kor-poon-ka', he was gone and we followed his cue, camping out at The Last Fishermen bar, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

Fashioned from part of a boat, the open bar was totally chilled with sand as our carpet and the curtain of drizzle a few feet away. All I needed now was my smelly bolster and I could nap there for hours. Instead we flipped thro' the Thai ELLE mag, while ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the litter of cute newborn pups held hostage by a Kirsten-Dunst lookalike Finnish girl. She kindly laid the fleas-infested pups on her 101 Dalmatians towel and couldn't bear to leave them behind when the rain stopped.

Anyway the best bit about The Last Fishermen was the mojito cocktails - a tall glass of crushed ice, generous rum, brown sugar, muddled mint and lime for only 150baht each (S$6 only) - where to find?? Wah, this was serious good shit. F asked me if I was sunburnt but it was the mojito making me blushed. If you had the chance to visit Krabi, you must track down the bar on the left side of Aonang (if you're facing the sea) past the Milano tailorshop.

At 5plus, the storm finally retreated and everyone was out at play again, including the stray dogs who were getting a lot of action, humping freely away on the shore. Busybodies as usual, we walked the entire length to the new Krabi Bay Central hotel while peeping at the aunties and their baskets of 'hoi' clams, wondering if we'd ever get to try them.

The sunset today was particularly spectacular as the low rays filtered thro' the thick clouds and lit the shoreline. You could follow the fishermen and walk for miles as far as the low tide receded. Instead, we walked back to The Cliff and worked up a ravenous appetito for a splendid dinner at its Rimpa restaurant.

Correct me but did I just said I never had a bad meal in Thailand? Which luckily was a statement I could swallow becos the food was excellent here - very refined and authentic to a 'T'. The sweet-spicy-salty flavours of the somtam salad were perfectly balanced (not wincing on my part, just purring) while the grilled seafood was dignified and the steamed crabmeat curry robust yet smooth (650baht only for meal!). See what kind of words good food could inspire!

No Pee Pee on isle

The morning began with a kickarse brekkie of rice porridge, sausage, scrambled egg, bread, juices and fruits at the hotel's restaurant deck overlooking the lovely cliffs. We were soon joined by the resident kitty cat who begged me for some sausage and promptly played with its own tail on the hot tin roof. It's true when they say you don't adopt cats, they adopt you. This little minx was treading all over the property without care or worry, short of curling up on the guests' beds.

Our pick-up arrived on time at 8.30am and whizzed us to our waiting speedboat, joined by a group of mixed characters. Who stood out were the American GI-Joe and his Thai escort (who hardly spoke and drank in every word he uttered, she also wore white lacy panties which slipped beneath her costume), Bedroom Couple (this Sporean couple who got nominated for Worst Dressed, especially her whose pubic hair was poking out in places I dared not mention), a sweet Thai family (the poor toddler screamed his lungs out and attached himself to his dad like a koala bear everytime the engine came alive) and a Filippino family of 2 sisters and their adorable kids (the 2year-old was so cute, her 13-year old brother dishy too!).

Finally there was a Thai couple and their friend who was speaking - oh-my-god - italian to this elder-ish angmoh couple! Ever the introvert, I interrupted their conversation and asked "Siete italiani?" (you're italians?) and they nodded in surprise. I went "Ah benissimo! Parlo un po' italiano e adesso sto imparando la lingua!" (Very well! I speak a bit and am learning it now!) Them: "Che brava!" blah blah etc. See, I could even practise my italian in Thailand! Ooh, the excursion was off to a great start!

On the 35mins zippy ride to our first stop Bamboo island, Ink - our friendly tour guide - gave us a run-down of our itinerary and pointed out the map of the 2 Phi Phi islands while we hung on dearly to the railing and eyed the islands dotting the clear horizon. They reminded me of the Eolian islands in Sicilia - che bellissime - and I couldn't believe it had been a year since then, when it felt like I was there yesterday.

Bamboo island was normale, the corals were not spectacular and there were few fishes where we swam close to the beach. I told the italians "I corali sono morti" (the corals are dead). We spotted lots of other italian tourists and I almost chatted the guys up if not for their girlfriends! *grin* At our next stop Hin Klang, we got off in the deeper waters which were gorgeous with lots of beautiful corals, reefs and marine life. Ink threw bread at us and the next thing we knew, we were 'attacked' by hundreds of fishies and I laughed hysterically, trying to stay afloat without a life-vest.

We proceeded to see the protected caves housing the swallows and their nests, the tranquila turquoise Phi Ley Bay laguna, Maya 'The Beach' Bay and also waited for the monkeys to come out at Monkey Beach but the only primates we ogled at were on the other loud tourist boats. At this point, my bladder was going to explode but I just couldn't bring myself to 'do it' in the open sea for reasons being: 1) it was too choppy 2) the fishes might nibble at me there 3) people including the fishes were staring.

So for the next 30mins, I just focused on not leaking and F said I looked truly sick. Even Ink asked me if I was ok. At the next stop, he asked aloud who wanted to snorkle again and I was the only one who shouted 'yes!' much to F's amusement and was the first one to jump in immediately. Still there was no pee pee on Phi Phi! F%@k! Perche?? Luckily we stopped for lunch buffet soon and I ran barefoot to the toilet for the longest bladder break ever. Sigh... molto shiok.

By 2pm the sun was blazing and I could feel our skin smoking under the rays when we jumped into the deep waters for our last snorkelling session. More sunblock please. The gigantic brown reefs looked like delicious mounds of melted rocher chocolates and it was uncanny how the fishes were staring at us in the eye. They must be thinking who the f%ck are we, these strange creatures with their ugly fogged up masks and stale bread. In any case, they were happy to nibble at the melon skins which Ink threw out as he expertly peeled the juicy fruits for us.

On our way back, the rain came and engulfed the speedboat which flew precariously on choppy waves. I hung on for dear life and try to look far away in search of dry land. Luckily we reached Aonang in no time and were the only ones to tip Ink for his service. That night, F and I finally popped into this supposedly 24-hour non-descript restaurant with a rather unimaginative name 'Aonang Thai Food & Seafood', sandwiched between Cowboy Inn and Divers' Inn. If there were only locals eating there, it must be darn aroy mah-mah ka (molto delizioso).

The shaggy-haired waiter-manager greeted us warmly 'sawadee-kup my friend, welcome...' and passed us a menu full of bad spellings and pictures. We rattled off the same dishes to him - hoi wan lemongrass soup, fried fish with som-tam salad, beef with ginger and Singha beer (450baht). He came running back 'sir, we no hoi wan tolay, we have hoi ok?'. I wanted to correct him I was not a sir but merely smiled politely and nursed my beer with ice. Did I say it was impossible to have a bad meal in Thailand? I was right again. The flavours were homecooked and unpretentious.

Later, we went to look for the boyish Nut, the tattooist for F's appointment. Inspired by the show 'Miami Ink' and assured by the sterile conditions of Nut Tattoo Cafe, she gamely had her 2nd design - a rose with her initials FY- inked along her hip bone for 2,500baht (S$100). I winced as I documented it all with the camera and tried to distract her by asking her if it hurt. Haha. F winced at some intervals but was brava enough to stretch her skin for him to ink it throughout the hour-long session. She was really happy with it but I nearly gagged when I saw the blood when she removed the bandage. *shutter* Here's the final version:

Pussy cat takes off

Sawadee-ka! On Thursday, F and I found ourselves on the 7.45am Tiger Air flight from le Budget Terminal and 90mins later, siamo arrivati al paradiso di Krabi in Thailand! The weather held up despite it being the hottest and wettest monsoon season now. Ahh, I was glad to be back again and couldn't wait for 4 glorious days of suntanning, Singha beer, smoking and slacking... haha.

Nee, our friendly Thai lady cab driver, drove us swiftly to our boutique hotel The Cliff and promised to pick us up on Sunday at a discounted price of 500baht. The property was as I imagined - cosy, chic and exquisite against the majestic backdrop of the jagged limestone cliffs. Everyone was all smiles from the customer relations fellow to the cherubic receptionist K who promptly suggested clean beach towels and mat for our Railay island hopover.

We gleefully trotted down under the blazing sun to Aonang beach 10mins walk away and the town was still sleepy at 10am. Aonang was as I remembered it 3 years ago albeit more developed now blemished by a perpetually empty MacD. I didn't get it - who the hell wants to freakin' eat fast food in this gastro heaven? Who?? Who?? Pui.

After our early lunch of 'aroy' (delicious) fried seafood vermicelli, pad thai and iced tea, the local boatmen ushered us onto their precariously shallow longtail boat (60baht - oneway) along with 6 other tourists for a 15-min wet and wild ride (forget Disneyland - this is more fun!) to Railay, probably the most developed and popular beach than the nearby Ton Sai and Phra Nang beaches.

These days, the shoreline was lined with more low-rise cafes and tourist-class hotels - which was a shame becos' I preferred the old rustic charm where the monkey community thrived freely and came out to investigate me trekking in their forest.

Nonetheless, it was still a pretty cool strip of sandy beach on Railay west with the limestone hills outlined against the azzure skies and the waves gently lapping in the foreground (see foto). In comparison, Railay east was less developed with a laidback kampong village vibe and fringed with mangrove trees (we could imagine Burn and his bro G fittin' in perfectly with the raegge boys here).

While F bargained with the masseuse auntie for her 300baht body massage, I flagged down the hawker with his baskets of fascinating 'kao lam' - local sticky rice cooked with coconut milk and broad red beans in a long bamboo. He offered me a choice of 'black or white rice' - greedy me wanted both but finally picked out the latter marked 25baht. It was darn ingenious - the bamboo served as a cooking tool, locking in all the flavours and there was no need for utensils (hence no wastage!).

I laughed and shrugged my shoulders at him - indicating wah lao, how to eat this thing? He smiled and began to strip it like you'd eat a banana. Blimey! It was molto interessante ma delizioso - sticky, salty and sweet (no funny ideas there now)! I wondered how does the black rice look and taste like? Drats, should have bought it too!

Thirsty, I flagged down another hawker for a cold Singha beer (60baht) and smiled no to another umpteeth person selling trinkets and the poor kids lugging their straw mats and fresh pineapple. It was a tad depressing seeing them peddling the wares and carrying stuff for tourists at such a tender age but I guessed they're making a decent living in their own way.

Around 5pm, we headed back to Aonang and joined the curious hordes of locals diligently digging the receded shore for local clams 'hoi wan' at low tide. It looked easy but proved difficile! The trick was to recognise the bubbles escaping thro' the mud and use a long object to dig it up in one clean sweep like how the aunties did it with their parangs.

We poked in the mud with a broken stick but no shit came up *sulk* we want our hoi! A dip in the pool and shower in our cosy open backyard toilet later, we pestered K for a dinner recommendation where we could sample these clams. She scribbled 'Wang Sai Seafood Restaurant' (10mins away by tuk-tuk - 20 baht each) followed by a list of local specialities in Thai... clams with lemongrass soup, local vegetable with crispy shrimps, tom yum kung and fried fish with mango salad! Damn, you go girl!

Alas, when we reached Wang Sai, the waiter told us they'd ran out of hoi so we pumped for the perfectly grilled BBQ squid served with the piquant nam prik sauce and mussels with garlic and butter instead (650baht for 4 dishes in total). Near exploding point, we hopped onto the small tuk-tuk again and got off at Aonang beachfront to soak up the evening bustle along the esplanade and fought off the chatty Indian tailors.

Here, you don't get hassled so much like you would in Bali or Phuket and the locals would leave you alone after the first try. Plus I was sure to say Sawadee-ka (hi) and kor-poon-ka (thanks) to everyone so it's all good! To cap the night, we walked into the sixth 'tour agency' and booked the cheapest 1,000baht (S$40) 9am-to-4pm excursion to the infamous Phi Phi island tomorrow (where we could pretend to frolick with Leonardo on The Beach). My head was still swaying from the boatrides... and all I could dream of was Railay... ah.

Intermediate uno

Non posso imaginare che sono al corso dell'intermedio uno adesso! Hurray. Ci piace la nostra classe piccola perche possiamo parlare e imparare di piu. Ci sono sei studenti - me, P, Q, E, A (chi e' tornato, benvuto!) e D uno studente mysterio. Allora, the weekend started with F & I bitching over a grande birra Hoegaarden at Union before going all giggly at a kinky girly sex-toys & lingerie party nearby. An hour later with four sexy undies in the bag and contemplating naughty thoughts of buying one of the fancy dildos, we trooped to meet Giovanni and Garybaldi for molte bottiglie di vino.

Stupido A backed out on me for our South India's nudist-yoga December retreat, so I convinced G & G to go on a Mekong River-Golden Triangle avventura with me instead. In their drunken stupor, we crossed our little fingers but I wondered if those guys will back out on me too! Hmm. Anyway I figure we'd probably fly to Bangkok first, then head to Laos over the Friendship Bridge, and find a boat ride to Cambodia finishing gloriously in Siem Reap for the New Year's Eve finale. Ooh, I can't wait. Must research tons first otherwise we might end up as illegal boat people!

We probably drank a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc each while laughing so hard at G's sexual conquests that when I found myself in bed at 2.30am, my head was as heavy as an anchor fast sinking to rock bottom. Naturalmente, I got up grouchy at 8am but luckily the class was fun. Dopo, I rushed to M's casa and whipped up my specialty dessert for our photoshoot-cum-interview with a food magazine! At this rate, maybe I can work towards my very own food show soon - "The Law of Cooking" or "Carla's Avventura"! Si, voglio moltissimo!

Nazionale giorno

Last Wednesday, my partners and I closed shop and escaped to our preferito isola di Bintan for a National Day company retreat and camped out at the lovely 4-bedroom Angsoka villa at Bintan Lagoon, complete with our own pool and the sandy beach just a hop away. After a very productive hour-long meeting in the pool in our bikinis, we wasted the whole afternoon singing Diana Ross' 'Touch Me In The Morning" in the sea and stuffing our faces at the BBQ pit.

Come Saturday after l'italiana lezione, I caught up with my JC mates S and M (haha) at F's casa which had a killer view of the city and fireworks on display that night. We cooked up a storm - starting with a Nigella's inspired Squid salad, Pasta with tuna, and an impromptu dessert - Baked banana and mango crumble. Ooh, it was buonissimo... F and I had it at a local cafe and decided to whip it up at a whim! Being such culinary geniuses, we got the formula right the first time round, ha! Here's the recipe, for you sweet-toothed peeps:



Baked Banana N' Mango Crumble

Ingredients:
4 large bananas (cut into 2cm slices)
2 ripe mangos (de-seed and cut into long slices)
2 tbsp brown sugar
1 tbsp honey
1 tsp grated cinnamon
30g butter
1 tbsp raisins (optional)
1 tbsp walnuts (optional - crushed roughly)
6 butter shortbread biscuits (crushed into crumbs and mix with 1 tablespoon of brown sugar)

Method:
1. Melt 25g butter on low heat in a nonstick pot and add bananas, brown sugar and honey.
2. When bananas soften in about 1 minute, add the mangos and cinnamon and stir for 1 minute. Remove from fire and empty contents into a baking dish or smaller individual ramekins.
3. Sprinkle with walnuts and raisins. Then cover the mixture generously with the crumbs followed by small knobs of butter on top the crumbs.
4. Baked for 15mins at 180 deg C in a preheated oven. Remove and cool for a while before serving with vanilla ice cream - yummy!

Sola solitamente

The words haunted me as I listened to the voice aloud in my head. Sola. Da Sola. Solitaria. Solamente. Solitamente. Saturday Italiana classe always fried my brain and left it reeling for the rest del fine settimana. I felt more and more retarded with every classe; in qualche modo non ho povuto trovare le parole esprimersi mai pui. Perhaps the hours, distance and its absence were taking their toll on me.

Forse io penso troppo. I laughed and wept at the irony of life; living in a cushy shining bubble but merely bouncing off the padded walls in a safety net, unfeeling and untouched. I longed for the fields beyond, the unknown rugged path where my heart quickens with every pace and corner. Devo essere pazza.

My dear 75-year old granny just called to ask why I was all alone at home and that I should get out and have fun for a girl my age - find a good man and settle down soon. Ha. I told her it's not my time yet and cheered her with news of A. She giggled and said he's too far and that I should just be contented with someone here who can provide for me, or else I'd end up like her alone watching TV every Saturday and waiting for sleep to creep in. There was sadness and resignation in her voice... and I can just picture her dragging on her cigarette in the dark. I told her in Hokkien 'Ah ma, I'd rather take my chance and wait for the one while watching cable!' Jin eh!

Of late I was also addicted to italian singer Tiziano Ferro's CD 'Nessuno e' solo' (which means nobody is alone - si, laugh at the irony!). Listening to the lyrics helped to sharpen my pronounciation and listening un po' ma lui canta troppo velocemente e troppo basso. Allora questo e' il mio preferito canto 'Gia Ti Guarda Alice' - chorus:

Nessuno e' solo finche' di notte
Anche lontano ha chi non dorme
Per pensare a lui, e penserai a lei ancora
Rimani e pensa a questa notte
A quelle cose dette e fatte
A tutto il tempo ancora
Senza rimpianti
Che avrai davanti insieme a lei

Tanti auguri a me

La Domenica, la festa italiana è stata benissima. I was worried about making the gnocchi from scratch but luckily the US Russet patate held their shape so they were molto delizioso with the Sicilian capers, pomodori and porcini funghi. Everyone brought their italian specialty, including C who attempted a bravissimo 10-hour effort with le sfogiatelle! Come difficile!

The table was full of food as usual and conversation flowed freely with the tavolo vino and limoncello soda di Amalfi. Hmmm, I missed the heavenly taste of italian prosciutto and coppa! So succulent and fatty. Midway thro' dinner, we danced to Diana Ross' 'I'm Coming Out' - my anthem of 2006 and C's dad started to twirl me around.

When the cioccolata torta came out with the lit candles, I played conductor and orchestrated everyone to sing the b-day song in italian - 'Tanti auguri a te...!' They were such a sport! I closed my eyes and prayed that my wish would come true. Per favore. Turning 31 was a huge feather in my cap as it marked yet another exciting stage of greater self discovery. Let's go!

Piccola fiore asiana

What a difference a day made! From the lowest pits of mood, my high soared when I received a huge bunch of 16 big red roses with the prettiest jasmine on Saturday. As it turned out, caro A remembered my b-day and ordered it from Italia along with a sweet message - "To: My litle asian flower..." Awwww. (Don't gag on me now!) I know it's such a cliche but flowers really do it for me.

That lifted my spirits and inspired me to cook up una grandissima cena, while stifling girlish bashful giggles every now and then. My parents gave me the puzzled look and probably suspect they might lose a daughter to this mysterious man in Italia. Well at least now that I had taught them how to say 'Buon giorno!', it'd come in useful when they visit the country!

Dinner at Adriano's went without a hitch and everyone loved the 'Toni-Piero-Pirlo' antipasti of proscuitto con arugula, involtini di melazane, pepperino con pesto e feta, and melone con feta, olio e basil. The Barbera d'Asti vino rosso (Coppo Canelli estate), a b-day gift from Elena in Milano, was exquisite (grazie bella!) with the Molto 'Grosso' squid ink pasta with crabmeat, Sicilian capers and sun-dried tomatoes. It was amazing how they could find room for the 'Cannavaro' pollo - baked chicken thighs stuffed with chopped olives, bacon, rosemary and basil, served with its decadent dripping and meaty Portobello mushrooms.

Garibaldi was on a vegetarian diet and could only watched us stuffed ourselves with the meat. Then we sipped the plum-ish 25year-old Tokay dessert wine from Australia and mustered the will to finish the 'Buffon Finale' of fresh pears and peaches poached in red wine scented with vanilla bean and cinnamon. I also brought along the precious torta of panforte that M bought for me from Siena and treated my dear amici to la dolce vita dell'Italia.

When the clock struck 12am, I found an sms from A before I could even call him to thank him for the wonderful gift. I was so nervous dialling his number, a lump in my throat and knots in my tummy, wondering if we'd understand each other cos he no speaker inglese at all. It turned out bene as he commented me on my vastly improved italian and we laughed during the 'non capito' moments! Grazie mille di nuovo.

Buon compleanno cara me

Si, questa la domenica e' mio compleanno... ogni anno, mi sento molto triste e patetica sempre prima il giorno. Non io so perche, forse voglio essere giovane per sempre. For my avid blog audience (I didn't realise you guys are still following my journal), I declared: si, it's the shitty part of the year which I dread most - the 'B' word - where I up my age by 1 and embrace a year past 30 - officially leaping into my 30s. Hooray. Blah. Pui.

As usual, the drama queen in me has been acting depressed with each day nearer to the B'day - fuelled by a triple wave of PMS. I let out a blood-curdling, toe-curling scream of frustration in the office but it only vibrated off the walls. The migraine was f%cking killing me too. It didn't help that on Wednesday I got a massive hangover from just 3 bloody screwdrivers at a client's soiree and was still paying the price for the free drinks. I guessed it's my 31-year old system protesting to the alcohol. "Basta, va bene?" Carl nagged.

Sono molto felice che mia Italia ha vinto la coppa mondo e lo festeggiare, sto facendo 2 'Viva Italia!' feste con i miei amici questo fine settimana. I shall prepare a 6-course italiana cena - each piatto named after an Italian player... starting with the 'Toni-Piero-Pirlo' trio of antipasti, edged by the molto 'Grosso' squid ink pasta, the 'Cannavaro' baked stuffed pollo and finalmente il dolce -'The Buffon' finale grande of mista frutta cooked in vino rosso. Molto delizioso si?

La Domenica, I'm putting my rustic gnocchi skills to test and hope they turn out buonissimo for my food critics amici. M and E just came back from a glorious 3-week vacanza in Italia and lagged back plenty of proscuitto and parmiggiano from Parma, panforte, tartufo and vino from Tuscano, and limoncello and melone from Almafi. Oooh, non posso aspettare!

Allora, on this lonesome Friday night sulking a mia casa, I shall share one of my early poems and dedicate it to all of you. Live the life you dare to dream, no matter the nags, fears and insecurities. Buona notte amore. Baci.

Lunatic Lunedi
Monday's woeful child
I smiled a poignant frown
Filled with impassioned fervour
Grasping the metier of ardour
Thwarted but not bent
I prayed for a gem from heaven sent
Your heart will never be empty
Blissful you
The soul's stirred
Love's renewed.

Carl - Feb' 2000