Category: 2018 or earlier

One of my new acquaintances out here is a friendly Science and Technology teacher named Padre from the UK who is about my age and married to a local Chinese lady. He likes to go out and about for a few drinks with me but he doesn’t get his visa signed that often. Anyhow on Chinese New Year eve we (me, he and his lady) went for a bite at a local hawker centre. He took her home after about an hour leaving me with almost a full bottle of beer to finish. As they departed I heard him say to her that he would have to come back and help me finish the beer. Green light apparently… he returned in about 15 mins.

We partied for the next six hours and he said to me several times….ooooh damn I’ve left my phone in the car…. ha ha ha. I don’t think it was a case of forgetfulness more a case of premeditated phone placement.

We finally emerged from the last party stop at 5 something in the morning and I said I was hungry. We walked a couple of blocks to an area where food stalls are open for most of the night and it was jam packed with people. I remember he kept repeating ….. this is amazing! I ate.. he sat there in amazement. I took a picture of the whole thing on my phone.

At last we decided to call it a night. Or in this case a morning! I had cycled to his house earlier and we had all gone out in his car. I couldn’t face cycling after such a night so I suggested he drop me back home and, if he didn’t mind, come and pick me up about midday to collect my cycle. I must have been drunk to make such suggestions. He said ‘yeah, no problem’.

At about midday I got a phone call.. ‘Graham – would you mind to get a taxi over when your ready?’ – ‘No of course not, it’s fine, I’ll see ya soon!’ Bloody hell! What sort of buddy is that, I thought. Slowly I began to realise.. he had had his ear bent. I can imagine it.. What? Graham keeps you out until 6am then you take him back and you have to go fetch him to recover his cycle the next day?? You phone him now and tell him he can get a taxi here!!!! Ha ha ha ha.

Of course when I get there I don’t just get my ear bent I get a full 40 minute lecture. He sits behind her, smirks, raises his eyebrows occasionally. Ha ha ha ha. The only thing I can think to say is .. Vangie.. it’s ok. It was all good clean fun. No sex,drugs or rock n roll. Well maybe just a little bit of rock n roll! Which just started her off again.. You don’t know what these Asian women are like. They can charm you into anything especially after a few drinks. (I can see Padre thinking …. really? … maybe I was unlucky then). I was even asked to reproduce the phone picture as evidence that we were innocently munching at 5 something in the morning ha ha ha… Damned hilarious.

He’s only been allowed out once since then. Poor guy.

Sometimes I think I should get hitched and then stuff like this happens and I think again.

Equatorial

I am planning an excursion. An equatorial excursion. The prominent features of which will be sea, islands, boats, and atmospheric (misty) scenery. A small amount of pre planning will take place but not too much. I have a rough outline of locations to visit.

I will depart Malaysia for Singapore this weekend. Make my way into Indonesia and over four or five days ripple through a series of ports and small seaside towns across a number of islands, planning the next from the present.

The Ocean will be the South China Sea. Tanjong Pinang will be on the list.

My brother made me laugh again the other day. He’s decided that he will leave his solitary existence and is embarking on a dating plan in an effort to move toward a partnered life full of love, sharing and companionship.
Not wishing to be sat around pondering his first real date in years, he decided to arrive at the agreed location, Market Market in Fort Bonifacio, Metro Manila, in plenty of time and explore the location in the hour or so prior to the arrival of the lucky female.

Forty five minutes before the scheduled meet my brother received a message from his selected sweetie requesting, due to unforseen circumstances, the meet time be pushed out two hours. He sent an amicable reply and extended his exploration time by two hours taking in a bookshop and the purchase of reading material to pass the time. Twenty minutes before the rescheduled meet time he received a message from his selected sweetie to indicate she was ‘on her way’ but the traffic was bad. An understanding and patient message was returned informing her that he would meet her in their arranged location when she arrived, no worries. Twenty minutes after the new meet time another message arrived from his selected but slightly less sweetie in his newly established view asking him to meet her in a new location a short walk away. It was raining heavily. His reply was still amicable and co-operative but he asked, jokingly, if she had a towel. I think he said her reply was no, but she had a tissue!
Expecting her to be waiting at the new location he reported to me that he looked excitedly around the interior on the ground floor and then the first floor even walking around some tables so that he could get a full visual on occupants. There was no positive id! Outside tables were checked – still no positive id! He said he began to feel something of a mug at this stage. However, almost as if she could see him, another message arrived on his mobile at this point. ‘Only joking!’ it read, ‘I will be at Chelsea’. When he relayed this to me he swore at this point but after weighing the pro’s and con’s he chose to remain friendly and replied in a rather non commital manner ‘am I being filmed?’.
I have to say at this point I probably would not have replied and sought alternative entertainment for the evening. To say that we think alike is not a great untruth. My brother decided to find the nearest bar, relax and wait. I can imagine what pleasure the beers brought.

After a short while the messages re-commenced. He said they ran along the lines of…’the taxi is lost’, ‘ I am at postcode xxxx’, ‘ I am in Fort Bonifacio high street’, ‘where are you?’ – which was the first message he replied to in over forty five minutes. Three hours and twenty minutes after their original meet time and after two location changes she made it to the date…
My brother could not believe how un-concerned she was. A half hearted apology was slipped in to initial exchanges but it was completely unfelt and she exhibited zero humility. She apparently replied ‘a Margerita’ to his offer to place her drink order. I began to feel sorry for my brother as he continued to relay the remainder of the episode to me. She picked up a food menu and ordered her own food without enquiring if my brother was eating or had ate. Her food was a salad and apparently another Margerita was requested.

My brother reportedly spoke harshly to her when she reprimanded him for not understanding her work content correctly. Ha ha ha… Well done bro!
To top this, my poor brother was cajoled into walking the wet Bonifacio streets with her stumbling on his arm because she had become almost legless on two Margerita’s. She would not take a taxi and insisted on being told a story, whilst she allegedly attempted to sober up. On a tour of one car park, a location chosen so that my brother could pee I think, she threw up!!
After a bottle of water from a San Fran Coffee Shop she apparently consented to a taxi journey. The taxi was left clean but before the door to my brothers apartment could be opened she was vomiting again at the entrance. My poor brother became nurse maid for a night. He is apparently reviewing his selection criteria as I am writing this. Bro – looks aren’t everything!!!

….amidst the controversy over European airspace being shut down the BBC invited people to comment with a post on their website of “Would you fly?”….. here is the best answer I saw from SSnotbanned:

I already have.
I took off from the top of ”Mount Bourtie” wearing my high-visibility jacket and flapping my arms for all my worth.
Take-off, airtime and landing all went smoothly.
No coughing was registered, although there might have been a slight increase in Guinness consumption which could have cleared some of the pollution from the machinery.
I don’t know why Ryanair are still grounded…

🙂

I think rail service from Ipoh to KL has improved since the dual track was introduced but it is still a farce. I have traveled Ipoh KL, return on it a few times recently. Sometimes in the 12 RM seat and sometimes in the 22 RM seat. On the last trip to KL during the heat of the day the power failed, the aircon stopped and the lights went out… as we went through a couple of tunnels toward KL Sentral we are hot and in complete dark. It was uncomfortable but laughable. No one cares. No one complains because no one cares. It is like everyone has contracted the plague of lethargy. On my return journey, in the early evening when the sun and outside temperature is going down the electric never fails and everybody freezes in the extreme blast of the uncontrollable aircon, it’s ironic!
The carriage I returned in on my last trip was a 12RM per seat carriage. I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the interior fittings and the comfortable nature of the seat. However when we began to travel I think I discovered (along with the rest of the passengers in this carriage) why such a comfortable well fitted carriage should be used for 12 RM seating. It was suffering a chronic case of wheel imbalance. At about the speed the driver wished to cruise at the carriage vibrated and rocked violently. Frankly I was concerned for our safety. I imagine the rolling stock and track maintenance required after some months of running like this will be well in excess of the balancing or replacing a couple of carriage wheels. However if the engineering staff are of the same mindset as the front line staff (those on the train and at the stations interfacing to the people that pay their wages… the passengers) then nothing will be done until there is an accident.
I have traveled on the Indonesian trains through Java… Surabaya – Solo. Malaysia are still many years of improvement behind these services. Indonesia appear to have licensed several different operators therefore encouraging some service competition which may be a reason for the differences.

Isabel Royale Hotel provided me with a box to sleep in. I hit my head on the ‘overhead’ TV and couldn’t bend over in the shower. I had to shuffle, feet out penguin style, around the bed. On the plus side I had aircon, the bed was clean, firm and long enough.

On check in I was asked to pay 1000 pesos deposit which I questioned as the internet information advised me there was nothing else to pay. With an almost indiscernible shoulder lift the check in girl then said ‘never mind’!! I was asked to sign an inventory list which included curtains and light bulbs without seeing the room which, I pointed out, seemed a little illogical, although I was glad this suggested the room was still equipped with these items. The bell boy took the inventory list to the room and I checked the room was equipped the items on the list including curtains and light bulbs. Surreal.

Having no desire to plot an inventory reduction scheme I left the box and explored. One place along Makati Avenue had roadside tables and beer at twenty eight peso a bottle. I’d just finished a third bottle and was settling the bill with a shoulder chipped Ruby, when a middle aged European, bottle in hand, ambled onto the scene. He appeared to be passing through but enquired of my health all the same. I felt ‘good’, I told him. He suggested I avail myself of a bottle of something even more palatable than San Mig Pale. Holding up the bottle in his hand he advised me of the attractive price, alcohol strength and purchase location. The 7-11 opposite! Other information imparted in the short exchange led me to believe he was from Sweden, retired and living the life of Riley in Asia after an accident insurance payout that afforded him reasonable rooms, travel and enough remaining change for 7-11 alcohol that stood head and shoulders above SM Pale. His amiable throw away manner drew me into the name exchange ritual and I was advised of another somewhat, in my view, outrageous episode of his recent past. He’d changed his name through an official route (in front of the mirror after a prolonged bout of 7-11 alcohol consumption?) to King Sir. Maybe I should have understood what sort of accident he’d had.

I returned to the box for a late afternoon siesta and a happy plan to visit Heckle and Jeckle later but woke at 9am the next day.