fallen cities

The first book I read by Italo Calvino was Invisible Cities. Although I have read the book once or twice again, like the cities he describes, I have no distinct memory of the book...

Except that I enjoyed it at the moment of reading - its repetitions and refrains, its seeming economy with words but the surfeit of association, its glut of allusions and pretenses, those conversations between Kublai Khan and Marco Polo that go everywhere and nowhere.

Ruins have a similar effect.



After a while, they all seem pretty alike. Chunks of stone. Moss. Invasive trees. Broken statues. Damp corners. And they give the same testimony. Fallen men. Failed gods.

But we continue to want to visit them. We think there is something elusive and mysterious about their destruction, dream up stories and myths to match their human histories. We watch the missing roofs and walls, tread on their eroded floors, only to imagine the luxury of their architecture. We scale, tunnel and circle their spaces, tracing some map.



A year or so ago I was in Cambodia for a conference and got a bonus trip to the angkor wat, where I took these photos with the trusty old nikon. I enjoyed wandering around the ruins, but the best part for me was still watching the groups of Japanese tourists investigate their environment. J and I have been talking about taking a short break in Cambodia next month - and I think we might :>

maybe it's the rain

I've been wanting to write a short review of Jim Jarmusch's latest road movie Broken Flowers. But nah, too tedious. I thought about writing something on Ryu Murakami (that other Murakami) whose 80s novel 69 just got translated in English. But nah, too lazy. Next time.

It's been a slow week, trying and with one too many heavy conversations about... I think I shall let this picture of a fellow weary train commuter do the talking instead.

Domestic Tourism Day

all photos on this post, including this graphic composite, are by J

It is strange how on an island just 640 square kilometres (same size as Tokyo and 2.5 times smaller than greater London), some form of regionalism still exists. Maybe regionalism is too big a word...maybe I should say kampung-ism.

J and I have lived in the Toa Payoh-Bishan-Bendemeer area all of our lives. And even when our families moved, they stayed within this kampong, unable to imagine life any further north, south, east or west. And since J and I don't own a car, we seldom wander to other kampongs unless...


Grand Katong Dame - the Iconic "Red House" Bakery...undergoing surgery

...it's Domestic Tourism Day!

In our lower/middle-class Singapore minds, once bus #31 turned into Katong, we smelled Old Money. Katong is the genteel east, leisure-class east. The quaint peranakan east. The nostalgic art-deco east. The place where the early families used to keep their seaside/holiday homes. Here the buildings are lower and you can better see the sky. Even if all the land reclamation has pushed the coastline far away, in our imagination we saw faded sepia photographs of half-naked children with gold ankle bracelets and colourful beach balls, slim men in slicked-back hair and white suits on wicker chairs, and ladies who wear pearls to the beach.



But even Katong cannot resist change. Its sleazy neighbour Geylang has already crept into Katong with its Hotel 81 and dingy karaoke bars and foreign hostesses. The cheap hotels and migrant population has spawned a row of internet cafes (only $1 per hour!) in the old shophouses sporting names like "Heaven and Hell". Its expired shopping centres now house SME shipping companies, traditional chinese physicians, middle-aged beauticians and domestic maid agencies.


kim choo - my inspiration!

What has not changed over time is Katong's reputation as a foodie's heaven. We had a teatime snack of nonya kueh, kaya toast, otah toast and kopic-c (and free aroma of chup chai from the kitchen) at peranakan matriarch Golden Pearl/Kim Choo's kitchen, followed quickly by Laksa and Otah. And folks, Katong also has a very authentic looking Taiwanese eatery where we spotted on its menu, among other Taiwanese yummies, Wan Kueh and YouYu Gen!

So friends, on your Domestic Tourism Day, if you are not familiar with the Katong kampong, we recommend that you drop by for a day's worth of strolling, photography, conversation and feasts. And be serious about tourism, take the bus.