Round of 16 Round-up

Where shall I start? Let’s try from the beginning then. South Korea fought valiantly to equalise but sat back after the goal and let Uruguay score their second to win. The Black Stars became the only surviving African outfit to progress to the quarter-finals after beating the USA 2-1 after toiling for two hours. Then in the much-awaited Germany-England match, England was mullered as the young Germans blitzkrieged a convincing 4-1 win. I watched F1 just before that and when Vettel crossed the line followed by Hamilton and Button, I did wonder if the Germans would also overcome the English in the footie match. Boy, was I right. Oh and Joachim Löew wore the same top as he did when the Germans play Socceroos. Maybe it was a good luck charm outfit.

Different match, same outfit. Job well done, regardless

The second match of that day was not without controversy either as Tevez scored his and Argentina’s first goal from an offside position. Oranje didn’t put a very convincing display but still won over the Slovaks. Of course, no one expected Brazil to be out yet (though I wish they are) and they beat Chile 3-0. Paraguay and Japan played a scoreless match but the South American side kicked off the last Asian team on penalties. And in the Iberian derby, Spain beat Portugal by one goal. So in the quarter-finals, there are four South American teams, three European and one African.

Like I said before, this is the first World Cup where I don’t support England. There have been angry reactions to the exit and frankly I don’t blame these angry voices. But you can’t blame foreign players in the EPL for the dire performance of English players because without foreign players, the English players and indeed the League would be worse. Had it not been for Valencia, would Roo-Shrek be scoring for ManUre? And besides, there are enough Generation M players in the German side making it quite an ethnically diverse multi-culti team, ‘foreign’if you like.

Some of the media headlines; for more images go here (for interesting statistics, go here). The final word perhaps goes to Bild, a German tabloid: ‘Thank you, Football God. It was a goal, as clear as Wembley in 1966 was no goal. But this time England is crying.’

I’m sorry, England. And so was the German chancellor who told David Cameron she was sorry Lampard’s ‘goal’ did not stand. According to Owen Gibson, there are five reasons why England was embarrassed by Germany. Another simple truth is England was not prepared especially for counter-attack and they really should have contained Ozil as advised by David Pleat. The Germans may be young and unheard of – not as famous as the English players as Lahm put it, the Bundesliga may not be as popular as the EPL but the Germans sure were superb and played much better for their country than their English counterparts (the English team is less than the sum of its parts). You can play the blame game and regurgitate all the excuses there are but there’s no denying that a complete overhaul and radical rethink is required now and apparently there are ten ways to save the English football. Maybe all they need is a football brain. And why replace Defoe with Heskey? That was such a stupid decision by Capello – well, unless he wanted Shrek to play alongside Donkey. And perhaps he should have taken Walcott along to South Africa; after all, Arsenal were down by two goals at home against Barcelona, in came Walcott and his presence helped us score two goals to equalise.

The World Cup has ended for supposedly world-class players like Drogba (ended even before the round of 16), Roo-Shrek, Lampard, Stevie G, Terry-ble and Cristina. One question: is the Nike advert cursed then?

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I dreamt of the Portuguese skipper last night. Yes, that’s right, I dreamt of Cristina. I didn’t just dream of him but dreamt we were going out on a date. What the??? Wait, what made me think it was a dream? Nightmare, more like. Oh why don’t I dream instead of my funny and cute Cesc who only buys books in English and watches Desperate Housewives and 90210?

So dreamy... and would be even more so if not for the beard. Gillette, won’t you sponsor this matador please?

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Isetan Summer Bazaar kicks off this Friday and it’s as if they know my latest shopping inclination: there will be an accessories-and-watch clearance at the Gallery of the KLCC outlet. No question where I’m heading this Friday lunchtime.

SIGN No More

What can you do in 11 hours and 5 minutes? Pretty much a lot, I’m sure you agree. In that amount of time, I can fly from Asia to Europe, another person can do his 9-5 job plus some overtime, and yet another someone out there could be in labour and perhaps even deliver her first child into the world. Well, you get my drift. But did you expect a tennis match to last that long? Well, one such epic match took exactly that to conclude before Isner finally emerged triumphant after the match was resumed after being tied at 59-59.

In that same amount of time too, Les Blues went back to France and Thierry Henry paid President Sarkozy a visit.

Eleven hours ago, Azzurri was still in contention but now, Ciao Azzurri, Cannavaro and team. And ciao Bendtner too. The good thing is Robin van Persie finally found the net for Oranje’s first goal. The All Whites drew a goalless match against Paraguay and were out too. So no more SIGN for me at this World Cup as the I in the SIGN had left. So I mourn along with Italy at their short-lived World Cup campaign, at the exit of the defending champion and the end of the hawt Italians. It’s something I’ll have to get used, just like I have to get used to an Azzurri team bereft of Alessandro Nesta, Pippo Inzaghi, Alessandro del Pierro and Totti.

RvP scores for Oranje
Ciao, hawt stuff *sniff*

World Cup 2010 Day 13

Let’s see what has been happening around the world before we talk footie, shall we. Australia now has a new PM and its first woman at that. An earthquake struck Ottawa. And the usual news of flood (killing dozens in Brazil and China), politics (Zimbabwe PM sacked four of his Ministers) and all that.

On the Arsenal front, Rambo is recovering nicely. Matt Slater talks about the Fàbregas saga here and reckons Cesc will stay a Gunner and not a goner.

OK, let’s now talk about the World Crap, I mean, World Cup.

I watched the Slovenia-England match and was disappointed that the Slovenes didn’t play as well as they did against the US. They could have advanced but for a late, late goal from Landycakes. England is second in the table and will meet the winner of Group D.

Woke up to watch the second half of the Ghana-Germany match and was relieved to see Germany win. Ghana still progress though despite the loss. Socceroos won and though they were already almost out, I’m still glad they beat Serbia.

As the Germans won the group, it will be a salivating Germany-England clash (and check out the new English WAGs!). Ghana will meet the US.

I can’t wait for the weekend already! I also can’t wait for the next fashion statement from the German coach, Joachim Löw/Loew.The Germans sure have stylish swagger and the coach himself can consider modelling part-time for Hugo Boss after the World Cup.

What's New, Scooby-Doo?

The good-looking new Chancellor tabled the new Budget yesterday. It’s a tough new budget (go here for details at a glance) aimed at balancing the books by 2016. Among others (and something that will impact non-UK residents, well those who will visit the UK anyway), UK VAT will be increased to 20% from 4 January 2011. Osborne told the House of Commons: ‘With this unavoidable budget, we’ve had to increase taxes, we’ve had to pay the bills of past irresponsibility, we’ve had to relearn the virtue prudence. Today we take decisive action to deal with the debts we inherited and confront the greatest economic risk facing our country.’

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I find myself buying a few items of accessories of late. I make a mental note to try and buy something in some countries I visit – amber necklace in Krakow, Fabergé pendants and amber bracelet in Russia, Swarovski pendant and bracelet in Düsseldorf and Paris respectively, a leather bracelet and ring in Fès and leather necklaces in Marrakesh (just remembered I didn’t buy anything in Rīga) ... and now that I’m back, I’m still buying them! Bought some necklaces and brooches from a Korean store in Ampang Point on Sunday (there’s a sizeable Korean population in Ampang if you don’t already know. Actually, I wanted to buy some tops at the Korean store but the neckline was a bit plunging). I’ve always thought the Koreans (in those dramas I watch) have a funny sense of dressing and accessorising but somehow they look good in what they wear.

A mate once told me that since befriending me, she found herself buying accessories too, implying she has been influenced by me. I never knew myself to be an influence on anyone before (OK, I am trying to get my nephew to be a Gooner *ahem* - and succeeding I think). I suppose I do like buying accessories. I have what I call ‘shopping phases’: there was a time when I was into semi-precious stones and ‘crystal’ accessories (at one stage, I was familiar with rose quartz, chalcedony, agate, carnelian etc talk).

Let’s see how long this current phase will last and what I will buy next (eeeks!).

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Cesc finally saw some World Cup action when he came on as a sub in the match against Honduras (seen here bored to tears while waiting). Pique bled more of that precious Barcelona DNA on the pitch – though I’m sure it was still for naught. Earlier, Portugal scored Seven Up against North Koreans and Chile beat a Senderos-less Switzerland 1-0. Last night, Uruguay beat Mexico and the French were fried and toasted. *Sniff* for Yoann Gourcuff. Henry came on as a sub in what could potentially be his last World Cup. Hopefully, there will be a French footie Revolution soon. Uruguay beat Mexico but the two are through to the Round of 16 anyway. They are joined by the Argies and South Korea who beat Greece and drew with Nigeria respectively.

I can’t decide which I would watch tonight: Slovenia vs England or Algeria vs USA.

Getaway 2010: Step By Step

OK, now that I have all those episodes done, allow me now to talk about the things that I did in preparation to the getaway. The steps are not necessarily in order: e.g. I initiated step 2 early but we only executed it in mid-April.

Step 1: Itinerary

I started drawing the itinerary as early as last year in my head. Started drawing it out in detail in early January 2010 with Frankfurt being the starting and ending point. I then searched for possible connections and potential cities/countries that included Russia and Morocco. Trust me, when I started, I had at least three additional countries included in my itinerary.

I had to re-draw my itinerary and change the starting/ending city to Paris when MAS had its travel fair in early February as the KUL-FRA-KUL was not on offer. Then I had to re-draw the consequent cities/countries and dropped some countries off as Lin felt the itinerary was too packed. Had it been me alone, I would have gone ahead anyway because it’s not often that I can go on a two-week holiday, and I might as well travel as much/far as I can while I’m at it.

Like I said, drawing itineraries involved finding potential cities and countries to visit and hence included finding flight and ground transportation connections. But I love doing all these anyway.

Step 2: Visa, Visa, Visa

Oh no, I wasn’t referring to Visa card (I prefer to use MasterCard to Visa anyway) but the visa requirements. Most European countries no longer impose visa requirements on Malaysians but some still do, unfortunately (some of the former Soviet Union countries). I called up my parents’ trusted travel agent and asked him if he knew who could help arrange for Russian visas and he suggested calling Parlo. Turned out that, yes, Parlo does arrange not only for Russian visa, but also Moroccan. There’s another travel agency that can also help with Russian visa but they don’t do Moroccan. The cost for a Russian visa is RM560/person and if you need it in a hurry, add another RM200 (the other travel agency charges RM10 less). Moroccan visa costs RM130. So, yes, it was a steep cost for me - especially since shortly after that, I had to make a new passport as I feared my fully stamped passport would pose problems to the Russian authority (especially the Russian). Of course this also meant extra effort - retrieving my passport from Parlo, going to the immigration to make a new passport, collecting the passport the next morning and sending the new one to Parlo again. Anyway, I digress.

Of course you also need a piece of passport photo each for each visa application.

Step 3: Lodging

I set out to find accommodation for us at all the cities we would be staying at. And re-did the process for triple-sharing lodgings for Riga, Moscow and Saint Petersburg when Fifi confirmed going. I always set a ceiling of E30/night. Some places cost us more, some less. I purposely chose a hotel close to the railway station in Düsseldorf as we had to board an early morning bus to the airport from the railway station. For Marrakesh, I chose Riad Dar Khmissa which is located between Jamaa el Fna and the Medina. For Paris, I had some misgivings about some of the hotels and went into websites such as tripadvisor.com to find out the reviews. Also as metro stations almost always have stairs instead of escalators or lifts, in the end, I chose a hotel close to Gare du Nord. I prefer walking to lugging my bag up and down the stupid stairs.

Step 4: Ground Transportation

I also searched for ground transportation - from airport/train station to the city centre, from the city centre to the airport, getting to the hotel etc. That’s another reason for choosing a hotel near Gare du Nord; it’s on the RER B line to/from the airport. And thanks to a link, I also managed to find out the Moscow-Saint Petersburg overnight train schedules, the costs of overnight train rides (different trains charge different rates and they started from as ‘little’ as E59.99 for a berth or E39.95 for a third class seat), how many berths were left and how to buy them. We bought the train tickets online as we didn’t fancy having to communicate to surly train people in Moscow.

Step 5: Where to go and what to do

This is a joint effort between the three of us and hence I will not, cannot and should not take full credit for it. We bought tickets for the ballet at Bolshoi, Hermitage in Saint Petersburg and Versailles online.

Step 6: Prayer times, halal restaurants and local mosques

I searched for prayer times and halal restaurants (and vegetarian too) if any (not applicable in Morocco and Paris as one is a Muslim country and the other has a sizeable Muslim population).

Step 7: Money, money, money

Thanks to the depreciating Euro, we got more out of our Ringgit this time around. The downside of a depreciating Euro though is that some moneychangers in KL were running out of Euro and GBP.

Step 8: Leave application

I had already alerted my supervisor and colleagues that I would be taking leave as early as back in February (told you the steps are not in order). I finally applied for leave nine days before departure.

Step 9: Pack!

What to bring? As usual, I was guided by my packing order to some extent. Apart from the usual (clothes, toiletries, prayer attire and compass, food, air and train tickets, museum tickets), I also packed copies of my passport. Ahh, but I over-packed as usual ;(

Step 10: Pray

And I don’t just mean performing prayers. I prayed that the journey would go smoothly, that there would be no volcanic ash cloud threatening disruption of our journey, that we would not face bureaucracy problems in Russia and elsewhere and that we wouldn’t miss our flight, train, bus etc. well, I did get delayed at the Moscow immigration but that was it, thankfully.

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Germany suffered a shocking loss to Serbia (well, they were down to ten men), Slovenia scored two wonderful goals (I could not fault the way the Slovenes play at all; they were such a joy to watch – except, they should have scored more and won. And remember, to get to the World Cup, the least populous nation in the World Cup beat Russia – and that surely was no mean feat) but the US (the most populous nation in the competition) equalised and the Three Lions were so bad that they only managed a goalless draw with the Desert Foxes (according to Steven Howard, the former were ‘drab, dreary, depressing, disjointed, at times desperate and, overall, dull as ditchwater’). Oranje sliced the Blue Samurais (though they played shakily and nervously), Ghana only managed a draw with ten-man Socceroos and it was Danish Delight as the Danes beat Cameroon 2-1 to send the latter packing out of the World Cup. The Slovaks displayed a tired performance against Paraguay (they lost 0-2), Azzurri couldn’t get past the bulky All Whites despite all the attack and Brazil became the first team to win with ten men, beating Ivory Coast 3-1.

I still don’t get why Klose and Kaka were red-carded. They are not and have never been malicious type of players. Oh, just read that apparently Brazil didn’t play like Brazil and Fabiano is a lying cheat.

Getaway 2010: Episode 10

Tuesday, 1 June 2010: CMN - CDG
Out Of Africa

We left early this morning and took the cab to the train station. We’d already bought our second-class tickets to the airport yesterday and went to the platform. The train was slightly late (how could a train bound for an airport be late?!) and at first, the electronic boards showed the train would leave from two platforms. Finally the right train pulled up and we got in. It was a forty minute ride to the airport and we had to go through security to enter the terminal one person at a time (imagine the bottleneck). After that, we made our way to the right terminal to check in for our easyJet flight.

There was just enough to time to have a cup of hot chocolate and some pastries before we went in. Not even time to shop (I was running out of dirham anyway) as we had to board the plane almost immediately, no thanks to the thorough body check we had to go through. I shopped from the airline duty-free though (oh dear!).

We landed at Paris Charles de Gaulle at 1 pm and after collecting our bags, took the RER B train to Gare du Nord. The stupid thing was we had to use coins to buy our tickets (and as we decided to buy return tickets, we needed Euro17 in coins) and the stupider thing was we only sighted one machine that could change your Euro notes into coins. After 30 minutes of train ride and ten minutes of walking in Gare du Nord itself, we finally emerged at Rue de Dunkurque and walked to our hotel. After checking in, we freshened up and left to explore the area. We had been to Paris twice before and never been to Sacré Coeur so we decided to head there first. It started to rain as we neared the church... I was worried that I wouldn’t get to experience a proper summer but I really needn’t have worried. What would summer be without rain, eh.
The rain got heavier and we entered the church to get dry. It stopped raining when we left the church and walked down the hill. We walked all the way to Galeries Lafayette; I left Lin there promising to meet again just before the store closed at 8 and walked on to the Opera/Madeleine area. I was late in coming back as the distance was longer than I expected. We took the metro back and had dinner at a kebab restaurant (I had lahmacun; the Düsseldorf version, while not great, tasted better). Kebab meals cost more in Paris too.

Wednesday, 2 June 2010

Versailles

The morning started off overcast. We took the train and changed for RER C to Versailles Rive Gauche station to visit Château de Versailles (a UNESCO World Heritage Site) exactly a week after we visited the Russian Versailles. We had bought tickets online and were waved in after a cursory glance and scribble on our printout tickets. We spent about two hours there before exploring the gardens. The sun came out and we spent a lovely summer day in the garden. We also walked to Grand Trianon and Petit Trianon. I couldn’t help thinking of the vanity, extravagance and arrogance of the past royalties for building all these great palaces and vast parks only to leave them all behind.
We finally returned back to the station and took the train back to Paris. We stopped first at Printemps and Galeries Lafayatte before returning back to the hotel. Dinner was had at another Turkish restaurant.

Thursday, 3 June 2010

Shopping!

Today, we took the RER A to La Vallée Village near Disneyland Paris (we had already been to Disneyland Paris when it was known as Euro Disney). Because we actually stopped at the Disneyland station and had to buy another ticket to Val d’Europe where La Vallée Village is, we only arrived at almost noon. I also called home to wish Abah Happy Birthday. We left after 4 pm and returned to hotel before venturing out again after 6 pm (stores close late on Thursdays). I didn’t buy much though as what I had set my eyes on were either not available or already sold out. Yes, such discipline!
Dinner was had at the resto we went the evening before. By now, I was already sick of meat in general and kebab in particular.

Friday/Saturday, 4/5 June 2010

From Paris With Love

Well, would you believe it, after months of planning, the getaway was coming to an end already. We left after 8.30 am, walked to Gare du Nord and took the RER B train to Charles de Gaulle. It was an express train (i.e. with limited stops) so we arrived at the airport after 20 minutes or so. Although it was not yet 10 am, the check-in counters were already opened and so we checked in.

We submitted our tax claims – I must remember to use my plastic next time, opting for the refund to be credited into my credit card instead; paying in cash does not pay as there was a Euro3 charge for cash refund (I only realised I couldn’t opt for the refund to be credited into my credit card after having paid in cash) plus it took longer – before walking up the ugly glass tunnel to passport control. A short browse at the duty-free shops followed before we headed for the gate.

It was an empty flight and so I was able to stretch out. But despite that, I couldn’t sleep. Bahhh. And the movie From Paris With Love was among those in the in-flight entertainment but I skipped it as I read the reviews were not good.

We landed at KLIA 10 minutes past 6 on Saturday. I went to perform prayers before walking to the carousel. Saw my bag pass me by, ran after it and then ran all the way to the train making it with four minutes to go. Yea, I get fit that way.

‘Til the next adventure then.

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Well, last night’s footie results were hardly surprising with Argentina registering a 4-1 win over South Korea, Greece resurrecting their chances with a 2-1 victory over Nigeria and Les Blues feeling the blues after a 2-0 defeat to Mexico.

And Arsenal will start the new season with an away trip to Anfield.

Getaway 2010: Episode 9

Monday, 31 May 2010

Hot In Here/Casablanca

We woke up especially early to catch a glimpse of the Atlas Mountains before the intense sun obliterated any sign of them in the horizon. Even then, we could barely see the peaks before the morning sun rendered any further sighting impossible. After breakfast, we set out to find Palais el Bahia and after many twists and turns and wrong directions given (and burning most of my breakfast calories), we finally reached the Palace. The entrance fee was dirt cheap at 10 Dirham (less than a Euro). The palace was built in the 19th century and was intended to be the greatest palace of its time. After that, we sauntered to Dar Si Said, a grand palace albeit a smaller version of Bahia (built by the same family as the Bahia) and which now houses the Museum of Moroccan Art. The entrance fee was also 10 Dirham.

After that, we strolled to Djemaa el Fna for one last look. We also did another round of henna tattoo before walking back to our guesthouse to check out. We managed to hail an old Mercedes taxi (not a petit one for once!); it cost us 40 Dirham to the train station. At the train station, we bought first-class tickets for the 1300 train bound for Casablanca.

Lunch was had at KFC (I know, I know. But it was either that or McDonald’s). I packed my unfinished chicken and fries. After that, we walked to our carriage, boarded the train and bade goodbye to Marrakesh. There were a man and a woman in our carriage so no chance for stretching out then. And my, it was a hot, hot ride! So stuffy. It was like we were in a hamman or a banya!

We arrived at Casablanca at 1610 and took a cab to our hotel (we also arranged with the driver for someone to pick us up the next morning). At that hour, it felt like Marrakesh and I felt like a human kebab minus the skewer. It was THAT hot!!!
Our hotel overlooked a square, a road and beyond that, the port of Casablanca. We ventured out after 6 pm and walked in the winding alleys to the medina. And my, what a disappointment it was. Seriously, in terms of cities and souk and atmosphere, Fès ranks the highest (let’s say 9.8 out of 10), Marrakesh in second place (7.8 out of 10) and Casablanca in the distant third (4 out of 10). (Oh and we discovered bed-bugs too the following morning so that should bring down the rating even further.) Needless to say, we didn’t buy anything at the souk. We returned back to the hotel by another route and after climbing up to the rooftop, retired in our room for the rest of the evening.

To be continued

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I love footie upsets and I try to support the underdogs whenever I can. La Roja, La Furia Roja and host Bafana Bafana were in action last night. La Roja were the Red Hot Chile Peppers beating Honduras by a goal. There was to be no Spanish Inquisition though as the Swiss Roll-ed on and Bafana Bafana lost to a strong Uruguay side. I was rooting for the Swiss because I (still) am angry with some Barcelona players (and there are six of them on the Spanish squad) for being bigmouth disrespectful dolts (all that talk about Cesc’s Barcelona DNA with no regard whatsoever to his long-term contract at Arsenal. Oh, and now they’re thinking of bringing in Torres? Dream on, Barcelona!). You should have just focussed on the World Cup but no, instead you chose to talk about why Cesc should leave Arsenal (Cesc, you can foresee spending your time on the bench as you did last night if you go to Barcelona). Well, they were complacent, cocksure, overconfident and arrogant as only the Spaniards can be. Diego Benaglio, you were brilliant. Kudos to Hitzfeld for getting it right especially as Spain had no Plan B. So Pique bleeding all that Barcelona DNA on the pitch was for naught.

I’ll still be watching to see how far Spain can progress at the world stage; they had always been labelled as underachievers (as the Portuguese are) but hey they did win the European Championship two years ago so let’s see. After all, it’s only their first match and surely still too early to tell - although history shows that a team that lost its opening match never won the World Cup. So, the pain in Spain ... falls mainly on the World Cup.

Wenger has lent his thoughts as to why the World Cup this edition has been boring. Well, I thought last night’s Spain-Switzerland match was entertaining. Arseblog agreed too: ‘Most enjoyable game of the tournament so far, by a long way. Stats confirm Xavi’s DNA was 93% Djemba-Djemba today.’

Getaway 2010: Episode 8

Sunday, 30 May 2010

Merry Marrakesh/Mad Dogs And Englishmen
We had breakfast at the rooftop after 9 this morning, a fact that Hassan (the camp chap) remarked on. We left for the medina of Marrakesh (also a UNESCO World Heritage Site) at 10 and boy, was it hot, hot, hot. In case you don’t already know, the Abu Dhabi segment of the movie Sex and the City 2 was filmed in Marrakesh.

We walked to Djemaa el Fna, the square and market place in the city’s medina quarter, about 100 metres away from our riad and walked on to Koutoubia Mosque. The mosque is named after the booksellers market that used to be located here and its 70-metre high minaret is the finest of the three great 12th century Almohad minarets (the others are the Giralda in Seville and the unfinished Hassan Tower in Rabat). We spent some time going around the mosque and to the adjacent garden before returning to Djemaa El Fna. There are always people at the square: musicians, Berber women offering henna tattoo services, story tellers, snake charmers, monkey owners and stalls selling either freshly squeezed orange juice or dried fruits such as figs and dates. As it was getting really hot, we decided to seek shelter from the covered souks, just adjacent to the square. The different souks all combined to form the largest souk in all of Morocco. Just like the medina in Fès, you can buy almost everything here from spices to shoes, djellabas, kaftans, potteries, leather goods, glassware, textile etc. But things cost more in Marrakesh and even the stall-owners were less friendly. And unlike Fès where I was tempted by almost everything I saw, I was hardly tempted in Marrakesh – despite the wider pathway which made the medina seem less crowded, absence of donkeys and waste, abundance of goods on display, neater stalls, covered pathway etc, I didn’t feel tempted at all. To be honest, I much prefer Fès to Marrakesh despite its haphazard souk and dust and the occasional donkey. I feel Fès has more character and is more authentic.

After the souk, we walked out into the hot, hot sun and went to Almoravid Koubba. We took pictures from outside then turned and walked to Medersa Ben Youssef, a religious school established in the 14th century and rebuilt in Andalusian style in the 16th century. Built to rival those in Fès, this is the largest medersa (madrasah) in Morocco. We bought a combo ticket (for the medersa, the museum and koubba) and went in. It’s a beautiful building with a courtyard and cells on the first floor for the hundreds of students who studied there. After that we sought shelter in the Museum of Marrakesh (housed in the restored Palais Mnebbi) before braving the scorching sun again and headed back to Almoravid Koubba.

Lunch was had at Café Chegrouni where we had a good view of Djemaa el Fna and the souk. We headed back to the guesthouse for a siesta after that. It was just too hot to be doing anything else! I remarked to Lin as we panted back that only Mad Dogs and Englishmen would go out in that heat.

Lin woke me up from my afternoon siesta and after freshening up, we walked out to find Mellah (the old Jewish quarter). It was almost 6 in the evening but the sun was still shining brightly. We were wandering around when a Berber chap approached us and offered to show us directions. Now, in Morocco, there are a lot of people who offer to do this and expect some tip in return. But this chap insisted that he would take us for free and that he would accept just syukran for his efforts. So we followed him and he showed us the residential area in that part of the city (quite dirty) and the various Berber medicine and spice shops in the souk (unlike the souk near Jemaa el Fna, this one didn’t look as if it was frequented by tourists). He also showed us Palais El Bahia (it was closed then though) and upon my request, also brought us to the synagogue. I wasn’t happy that we had to give the rabbi some money for allowing us to enter the synagogue; I think places of worship regardless of faith should not charge visitors for entry.

He then showed us the way to Djemaa el Fna from Bab Agnaou and asked for 100 dirham. I commented on this and he murmured something about the money being for the babies. Right, work on the guilt part and manipulate people’s feelings that way. Next time, don’t say you’re helping for free, for your brownie points, for words of syukran and gratitude, when you determined how much we should pay you at the end. It made us reluctant to pay and feel less sincere and wiped off some of the goodwill feeling too.

We walked to Djemaa el Fna and noted that the evening crowd had descended upon the square and surrounding areas. We decided to walk to Koutoubia Mosque and capture it in the sunset before returning back to the square. I entered the mosque briefly but didn’t venture far; suffice to capture those answering the call to prayer.

We walked back to the square in the fast disappearing twilight and before we realised it, night had fallen. The square really came to life at night as the square is turned into an open air food-court with dozens of stalls selling what looked to us the exact same fare. The crowd which were previously in the nearby souks now seemed to gravitate towards the square - and the exotic and tantalising aromas and entertaining sights. The beat of drums seemed to grow louder and the hustle and bustle seemed to rage more intensely.

We stopped at a stall and had dinner. I had some soup and salad as I was already tired of meat. Besides I wanted to try some snails (escargot?) at one of the smaller stalls. Lin had some meat but told me the meat tasted bland. We then proceeded to one of the escargot stalls and I asked for a ‘petit’ bowl as I wasn’t sure how I’d take to the taste. After that, we had a glass of fresh OJ each. After a spot of shopping (Lin, not me), we returned back to the guesthouse but not before buying ice-cream. We then climbed up to the rooftop to enjoy the evening – still hot and humid – and even from there, we could hear the beat of drums from the square and see the smoke emanating from the myriad food stalls. I still prefer the Fès rooftop.

To be continued

~~~~~~~~

The All Whites managed a draw with the Slovakians (who have always played second fiddle to half-sister Czech Republic) and the Ivory Coast also drew with Portugal. Am I the only who found the World Cup 2010 to be lacking so far in terms of excitement and goals (except for the Germany-Socceroos match)? (OK, Arseblog think it’s been dull and dreary too). And contrary to what some think, I think North Korea will be a threat; they proved as much to Brazil.

Meet the new kit on the block! The more I see, the more I like it. For a list of Arsenal kits over the years, go here.

Getaway 2010: Episode 7

Saturday, 29 May 2010: FEZ - RAK

Festive Fès

Breakfast was served in the lovely living room and I was very impressed with the table setting, the food, the cutlery, etc... very, very professional, charming and lovely.

We left the guesthouse after promising Bernard we’d meet him in the car-park by 2 pm and went to the car-park to get a petit taxi to the medina. Except we kind of took a wrong turn somewhere and after asking for directions, somehow ended up at Place Rcif and upon further exploration, found ourselves in the medina itself! We asked for directions for Talaa Seghira.

We were at Place Seffarine when Lin was persuaded by a coppersmith to enter his shop. I lingered outside. Then the same chap volunteered to show us a place where someone used to stay. I cautioned Lin that it was probably a ploy but he seemed genuine. I followed, grumbling. And what do we know, we found ourselves in a house full of carpets. Someone took us up to the roof where there were some girls working the carpet loom (I think that’s the word. I later found out that was only for demo) and down the stairs again. We were served mint tea and given explanation on yes, you guess it, carpets. Berber carpets, Fès carpets, the difference between the carpets, the motives, the colours... I found it boring and was ready to go. I had bought carpets in Makkah and had no need for any new carpet. (I especially wanted to roll my eyes every time he said we would be helping 1,400+ single mothers or something like that with our purchases – I should think I want to help myself first seeing I’m single too).

But Lin was persuaded and finally I agreed to buy one too. We took our time choosing our carpets, paid for them and left. The carpets would be couriered back. Hopefully one day I would look back and said what a wise purchase that was.

We walked around some and managed to find our way back to Bab Boujeloud. There were a lot more people today in the souk, it being Saturday and all, and a lot more traffic (donkeys ferrying goods). So we had to fight the throng of the Saturday shoppers, the loaded donkeys, the donkey owners, the shopkeepers who were luring customers besides trying to avoid the donkey dung and urine and the usual dust of the souk. The friendly locals were always trying to guess where we were from, calling out ‘Konnichiwa’, ‘Japanese?’, ‘Chinese?’, or ‘Korea?’. We heard these all throughout the time we were in Morocco.

We walked back down Talaa Kebira - seriously, I’d just advise you to choose Talaa Kebira. Ignore Talaa Seghira! - to the henna shop we stopped at yesterday and had another session of henna tattoo as the henna tattoo we did yesterday had all disappeared. This time, we were happier with the outcome.

We rushed back and bought lunch to go and while we were waiting, went to search for a mosque to perform prayers. After that, we rushed back to collect our lunch orders and asked Said to help get a petit taxi for us back to the parking near Dar Melody.

Bernard was waiting for us and maybe it was my imagination but he didn’t look to happy with us (it was well after 2 pm after all). We went back to Dar Melody, fetched our bags and went back to the parking area. He drove us to the train station and we rushed to get the ticket to Marrakesh. The purchase finally done, we rushed to the gate, bade farewell to Bernard and rushed for the train – which had to be on another platform but of course. Sod’s law. So we went down and up the stairs and ran for the first class carriage. Before long, I felt as if my lungs were bursting so we just got on the train and walked up to the first class from the second class. We had barely collapsed into our seats when the train pulled away from the station. Phew!

We spread out on the seats and napped away. The train filled up as the journey progressed and after Casa Oasis (one of the stations in Casablanca), we were joined by other passengers.

Our 1450 train was supposed to reach Marrakesh at 2205 and I started panicking when I realised it was already 2225 and the train was still running. I had every reason to be panicked: I did after all miss a station in Sri Lanka because unbeknown to Andrea and me, we were on an express train. We had to return back to our intended station by bus.

Lin asked the girl next to her and she assured us we had not yet reached Marrakesh. Great, I thought, so trains don’t run on time in Morocco. And just as we neared Marrakesh (well, most passengers were getting ready to disembark), the train stopped. In the middle of nowhere. After a few minutes, we found out the reason for this: the train had hit someone. Yikes. ‘Looks like we’ll arrive after midnight after all,’ I whispered to Lin: we had purposely chosen to leave Fès at 1450 rather than at 1650 because we would only reach Marrakesh after midnight if we took the latter train.

After what seemed an eternity, the train moved again. We all broke into relieved smiles and were so happy when we reached Marrakesh train station. We took a petit taxi to our guesthouse, Dar Khmissa. We did reach the guesthouse around midnight. Thankfully the (slightly camp) chap who opened the door didn’t scold us for our late arrival. I apologised and quickly explained the reason for our late arrival. It had been a long day indeed.
I shall stop here on that note.

To be continued

~~~~~~~~

It was Robin van Persie vs Nicklas Bendtner yesterday and RvP’s Oranje needed Dutch Courage to win by two goals. The Blue Samurai beat the Cameroons and The Italian Job was not executed well when the Azzurri only managed a draw with Paraguay.

Getaway 2010: Episode 6

Friday, 28 May 2010: NRN - FEZ

Escape 2 Africa

We left the hotel early as we had to catch the 0700 bus to Weeze Airport. Yes, RyanAir always flies to/from airports located in remote places. It was drizzling when we left and the sun finally broke through at almost 8 am. We went to have our visa checked before dropping off our bags at the bag drop-off counter. And yes, just like Russia, we need to have visa to enter Morocco.

We were sitting down for some drinks when we heard our names being announced. Lin hurriedly drank her recently purchased cuppa and we rushed off to check. We went from the information counter to the service counter before someone at the gates told us we needed to go to the bag security area. That meant going through the screening procedure. One airport personnel was already waiting to lead us to the bag security area. Turned out they detected the lighter that Lin bought in Moscow and asked to see it. They examined it and having satisfied themselves that it didn’t contain any dangerous gas, told Lin her bag was clear.

We then joined the other exotic-looking passengers (most were Moroccans) in the boarding room. The ladies were really lovely but I can’t say the same for the guys. Well, think of new Arsenal boy, Marouane Chamakh. He’s not ugly but not overly handsome. Certainly not as good-looking as French Algerian Nasri.

We landed at Fès (also spelt as Fez) at 1220 and when we finally cleared immigration and collected our bags from the conveyor belt, our host Bernard was already waiting for us. After changing money at the moneychanger, we drove off to the city, about 15 km away. I was so excited to finally set foot on African soil!

In the car, we attempted to converse with Bernard. Not easy considering he’s French (he moved to Fès two years ago) but we got by with our limited French - and some hand gestures. He asked our plans and offered to take us to the train station the following day.

We finally reached the parking place near to his dwelling (near the tanneries! And Fès is well-known for its tanneries). Bernard then tipped some local lads to help us with our luggage and we walked the dusty path up and down to Dar Melody, a bed-and-breakfast kind of guesthouse run by himself and his wife, Laurence (and before the trip, I actually thought Bernard and Laurence were a couple of middle-aged men who were either in a relationship or the best of friends. Well, Laurence isn’t exactly a feminine name, is it?). And my, what a guesthouse it was. The couple took two years to renovate the place and live there too with their doll-hugging dog (I was surprised to see the dog but was relieved that it retreated with its doll in the couple’s bedroom on the ground floor. And I found out later that there are dogs in Muslim countries like Morocco. Maybe I expected it to be dog-free like Saudi Arabia). Our room was at the top floor (why do we always get top floor rooms especially in places where there are no lifts and the staircase is so narrow and steep???) and my, what a jaw-dropping lovely room it was too. Heck, we spent some time taking photos of the lounge and our room and we hadn’t even gone to the medina. Laurence served us some lovely strawberries and orange juice. Thoughtful!

After freshening up and performing prayers, Bernard brought us to the medina. He left us at Said Restaurant and we had our late lunch there before exploring the medina and the souk. As it was a Friday, quite a lot of shops were closed. Actually, all the better as we spent too long already at those that were opened! The medina of Fès is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

We chose to walk down Talaa Kebira (main road, kebira being a derivation of kabir which means big/large/great) over Talaa Seghira. There are signs to indicate where you are. These signs have an eight-point star shape that will guide you between the main places in the medina. Talaa Kebira runs from Bab Boujeloud all the way down to the Karaouiyne Mosque in the heart of the medina. We managed to get a henna tattoo, bought some souvenirs and snapped pictures all the way ;) I really, really, really love the medina despite the dust and dirt. It all seemed so authentic. I love the architecture and character of the medina too. And Fès is the handicraft capital of Morocco; so if you go, get your souvenirs here and not elsewhere. And bargain, bargain, bargain! I fell in love with so many things and it was all I could do not to buy them all. And they were sooo cheappp too *sigh*. It was my consideration for my bag (which was already hovering around 16 kg already. I know, I know, I packed too much. Again.) and the fact that my money is finite that disciplined me into purchasing only what I did. What can you get there? Leatherware, copper, babouche, potteries, carpets... the list goes on and on. Do beware of shopkeepers who want to introduce you to their cousin or uncle or brother whatnot who has a textile/carpet factory/store or who can show you the tannery or pottery is.

We walked down right to Karaouiyne Mosque before turning back. Not bad for our first day in Fès: we’d covered a major part of the medina without getting lost! Now to climb back up to where we started... we had dinner at Said Restaurant before requesting Said to help get a petit taxi back to Dar Melody.

I went to the rooftop for a night view of the medina. There was a full moon, a light breeze and a lovely temperature *sigh*. Heaven.

To be continued

~~~~~~~~

The host South Africa kicked off the World Cup with a fantastic goal but Mexico equalised later to deny all three points to Bafana Bafana (Carlos Vela was as anonymous as he was in the Arsenal jersey all season). The Demonic Domenech’s France played a dire match against 10-man Uruguay, Engerland drew with the USA after a Robert Green howler. South Korea had a convincing win over the Greeks while the Argentines played like the Arsenal (many shots but only one goal). Algeria the Desert Foxes were unlucky to lose, Ghana was lucky to win (I didn’t want Serbia to win anyway) and it was all about the German efficiency in the late match.

And Arsenal fan Lewis Hamilton won the Canadian Grand Prix! The McLaren duo won one-two and Lewis now leads the drivers championship for the first time in 18 months.

Getaway 2010: Episode 5

Thursday, 27 May 2010: LED - CGN

Time Flies When You’re Having Fun

Well, all good things come to an end and our Russian trip came to an end today. A light drizzle greeted us this morning and we left the apartment after 8 am, walked to Gostiny Dvor metro station and rode the metro to Moskovskaya station. From the station, we took bus #13 to the airport for our German Wings noon flight to Cologne-Bonn. And thank God we got through immigration without being questioned about not ing our visas. The flight was rather uneventful except when we were about to descend, we felt the plane climbed up again. ‘Back to St Petersburg,’ remarked the lady next to Lin and we shared a puzzled smile. The pilot then explained that they sighted another plane about to descend to the same runway and they pulled up again to avoid a collision. Wow, talk about German efficiency. It’s nice to have the pilot explained everything to us and assured us all was well again.

From the plane, we boarded the airport shuttle but Fifi had to switch to another shuttle bus along with the few other passengers who were continuing on with their connecting flights (she was flying back to London Stansted by the same airline at 1425) so we said our goodbyes then. Lin and I bought some food at a supermarket at the airport (good food at last! And in a language we could understand!) before walking to the connecting train station for our 1444 train to Düsseldorf. We had already bought the ticket online and purposely chose this time. We had to change trains at Cologne however but being Germany, there are lifts everywhere for the convenience of travellers. No one came to check our tickets though.

We arrived at Düsseldorf after half-past three and after collecting maps at the Tourist Information Office, walked to our hotel. After checking in, I went out alone to check what the city has to offer. It’s a charming compact city and so I managed to cover quite a bit of ground. And the shops!!! I never knew Düsseldorf has very good stores – from high street stores to luxury goods boutiques. I can happily settle there. Oh and I sighted some Porsches and Ferraris too – all in the short few hours I was out and about.
Met up with Lin after 8.30 pm and we had dinner at a Turkish restaurant. I had lahmacun or the Turkish version of pizza. Lovely but not as delicious as the one I had at Lake Como. A short stroll after dinner ensued before we headed back to the hotel.

To be continued
~~~~~~~~


The World Cup 2010 kicks off today!!! Contrary to the last World Cup, I will not be rooting for England (I don’t have any problems with Capello, just with some players in the squad). I will be watching out for the SIGN i.e., Spain (they’ve really improved since the last World Cup), Italy (if only for the hawt-looking players), Germany (they have always been consistent) and the Netherlands. Of course I would try to watch and catch up with as many teams as I can (I definitely don’t want to root for only one country), well except for Argentina and France (I have issues with Maradona and Raymond Domenech Dominatrix).

Who will you be watching out for?

Getaway 2010: Episode 4

Tuesday, 25 May 2010

‘Remember, Saint Petersburg* is Russian but it is not Russia.’ - Tsar Nicholas II -

Our train pulled into Moskovsky train station of Saint Petersburg at 0645 and we emerged from the train to a cold morning. After navigating our way out of the station, we emerged at Nevsky Prospekt or Nevsky Avenue (named after the 13th century national hero credited for defeating the Swedish and German invading armies), the main thoroughfare in Saint Petersburg (or Piter as it is informally known). We walked to Mayakovskava metro station and took the metro to Gostiny Dvor, the nearest metro station to our apartment at the Admiralteyskaya nab. (Admiralty Embankment). The Admiralteystkaya station is actually the nearest to our apartment; alas it is an unfinished station, otherwise we could’ve take the metro all the way here.
Victor, the manager, was already waiting for us and helped us to check-in. My heart sank when I saw the apartment building, but I told myself that, hey, even the building of the Moscow apartment didn’t look attractive from outside. But this time, the apartment really was bad. After freshening up, Fifi and I set out to find a supermarket to buy our provisions. Our apartment was not located in a residential area; it was surrounded by offices and hence the first grocery store was some blocks away and the supermarket slightly further up. We finally set off for the State Hermitage Museum at almost noon (!). The prime attraction for Piter, the Hermitage is a massive palace-cum-museum showing the highlights of over 3 million of pieces from all over the world. We had earlier bought the two-day combined ticket online to save ourselves from queueing. We spent hours at the Hermitage. It was close to closing time when we finally walked out.
A little note on the State Hermitage Museum: the world’s largest art collection here rivals both the Louvre and the Prado in architectural, historical and artistic significance. After commissioning its construction in 1769 and filling it with works of art, Catherine the Great wrote of the treasures: ‘The only ones to admire all this are the mice and me.’ To the public’s general fortune, thankfully, this is no longer true; the collection was made public in 1852.

We then walked across the Palace Square to Nevsky Prospect and turned left when we reached Griboedov Canal and walked along the canal to the Church of the Saviour on Spilled Blood (aka the Church on Spilt Blood and the Cathedral of the Resurrection of Christ. The name refers to the blood of Tsar Alexander II who was assassinated on this site in 1881). To me, it looked like a sister of the St Basil’s Cathedral in Moscow. After some Kodak moments, we checked out the souvenirs fair (market, more like) near the church and then walked around the city before heading back to the apartment.

* The historic centre of Saint Petersburg is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Where Moscow is big on Lenin (statues here and there), Piter is unsurprisingly big on Peter the Great, the city’s founder.

Wednesday, 26 May 2010

Why Does It Always Rain On Me?

Sorry, I can’t resist this picture

I had read somewhere that Piter only enjoys about 30 days of dry weather in a year and today was one of those 335 days. We walked in the moderate morning rain to the dock in front of the Winter Palace to catch one of the two hydrofoils to Peterhof, a summer residence designed and built by Peter the Great (who else). The series of gardens and palaces are also referred to as the Russian Versailles. The palace ensemble along with the city centre of Peterhof is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

It continued raining and didn’t let up at all as the day progressed. So we walked around the Lower Gardens (we arrived at a pier and approached the palace from the lower park) to the Grand Cascade and Grand Palace and watched the fountains at the Grand Cascade start at 10 am in the rain. Then we climbed up the stairs to the Grand Palace and joined the throng of other visitors and queued for more than half an hour to purchase the ticket. It was one of the wettest, most uncomfortable thirty minutes of my life. Although I had my brolly, I was still wet from the rain dripping down from other people’s brollies. Bahhh.

We finally entered and after purchasing our tickets, went down a corridor. After the cloak room, we donned on some shoe coverings (to protect the floor, you see. The whole complex was closed the day before as it usually is on the last Tuesday of the month so all the more reason to keep the newly cleaned floors sparkling. Brilliant idea, eh, except it made me feel as if I was skidding on ice throughout). We were not allowed to take pictures inside the palace (alas!) but all the rooms were oh so awesomely and breathtakingly beautiful. But don’t take my word for it, go see it for yourself.

After that awesome eye feast, we left and headed for the Upper Gardens. It had continued to rain steadily throughout but with extra wind factor. So we hurried about and went down again to the Lower Gardens (after pleading with the ticket inspectors who initially didn’t want to let us re-enter the palace grounds. See, there’s an admission fee for the Lower Gardens and we had already passed through the Lower Gardens on our way to the palace albeit briefly). We wandered around taking pictures of the various fountains before fighting our way back to the pier. I say fighting because by now the wind had taken the form of a gale, so strong that it rendered our brollies unworkable. And we fought against the wind and the pissing rain and the spray of the Gulf of Finland seawater to reach our 2 pm hydrofoil. Not an easy task, I can assure you. Trust me. As if that ordeal wasn’t enough, we had to endure a rough ride back, no thanks to the choppy water. It was a wonder I didn’t get seasick (for the record, I even got ‘seasick’ after the Sydney river cruise).

We reached Piter half an hour later and walked back to the apartment with shaky legs. We decided to rest the bad boat-ride off. We went out again at 5 pm (the rain had finally stopped – for then) and, having decided that a visit to either the Menshikov Palace or the Museum of the Imperial Porcelain Factory or State Hermitage Preservation and Storage Centre (part of our two-day Hermitage ticket) was not feasible, headed for Zayachy Island (aka Hare Island) where the Peter and Paul Fortress is. Peter and Paul Fortress (Petropavlovskaya Krepost) is the original citadel of the city. The fortress was established by Peter the Great on the small Hare Island by the north bank of Neva River. The Peter and Paul Cathedral which is located in the fortress is where all of Russia’s Tsars from Peter the Great himself to Catherine the Great to Nicholas II are buried, the last being finally laid to rest with his family and servants in July 1998. The Tsars prior to Peter were buried in the Archangel Cathedral in the Moscow Kremlin.
After walking around the island, we walked to the nearby Mosque (Sobornaja metschetj), the largest mosque in northern Europe and the world’s northern-most mosque. We even went inside and took a picture or two (despite being told not to). There’s a halal butcher near the mosque where we enquired if there was a halal restaurant in the city.

We left the mosque and walked to the Cabin of Peter the Great, Peter’s first residence during his supervision of the construction of St. Petersburg and the city’s first built wooden house.

After popping over to a nearby store (but were told we couldn’t purchase anything as the cashier had closed for the day), we walked to Gorkovskaya metro station and boarded the metro to Sennaya Ploschad (Sennaya Square) and went to find Sofra, a halal Turkish restaurant recommended by the butcher earlier. The menu was in Russian and a Chris O’Donnell doppelgänger casanova (a fellow patron himself) helped us with our orders.

We only left after 10 pm and walked in the twilight* back to our apartment. Our last night in Saint Petersburg *sigh*. I love Saint Petersburg. It’s just so elegant and beautiful. The birthplace of Russian ballet, the city was built by Peter the Great (hence the name although of course it changed names a few times to Petrograd to Leningrad before reverting back to Saint Petersburg) to create a ‘Window to the West’ and drag Russia from its backward roots in ‘Asiatic’ Moscow and Byzantium toward the more advanced countries of the West.

* Because it is so far north, St Petersburg enjoys ‘white nights’ for three weeks in June when the sky never completely darkens.

To be continued

Getaway 2010: Episode 3

Sunday, 23 May 2010

Larger Than Life

Today, we set off for the Kremlin. We walked around the grounds passing the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, the Arsenal (yes!) and the Alexander Garden on our way to Kutafiya Tower where we queued to get our tickets to the Architectural Ensemble of the Cathedral Square and the Armoury Chamber. Foreign tourists pay substantially more than the locals, as the case is almost everywhere. We spent hours in the grounds and the Armoury Chamber (our visiting time was at 1-2.30 pm).
After that, we walked out and went to the Red Square. We’d missed the visiting hours for the Lenin Mausoleum (I’m not a fan of him) so we joined the masses at the Red Square. There were some outdoor activities there: rock climbing, skateboarding, wrestling (or was it boxing?), futsal... at least those were some that I saw. We walked on to St Basil’s Cathedral and continued where we let off yesterday. After that, sensing rain was imminent, we decided to check out GUM (pronounced as ‘Goom’ and short for Glavnyi Universalnyi Magazin, yeah, what a mouthful). It’s a seriously lovely building both on the outside and inside.

We left GUM and went to the nearby stalls. It started to rain after a while – and this turned out to be good for us as some stall-keepers decided to offer discounts. I spotted some Fàbregas matryoshka dolls ;) – no, Lin, not Fàbregas Fabergé dolls or Fàbregas Fabergé eggs (opps! That has double meaning somehow), it’s Fabergé eggs. OK, OK, I better stop.

We developed some serious leg muscles today... everything in Moscow was Larger Than Life (and building blocks have never seemed larger) and they sure don’t do things half-way there! It’s like everything has to be bigger and grander than anything else.

Monday, 24 May 2010

From Russia With Love

Now, if you’re in Russia for more than three working days excluding weekends and public holidays, you should register your visa (don’t ask. To me, it sounds something like a money-making scheme) – this is in addition to obtaining a Russian visa which isn’t cheap by the way for which you may need visa support (yes, it does sound complicated. And expensive). Fifi had, however, checked with the Real Russia people in the UK and they assured her that we would not need to register our visa as we would not be in any one city for more than three working days; however, we were still worried (especially after my immigration encounter) and decided to check out with the post office (we know that we could register through a post office).

So after breakfast, we went to Kurskaya Railway Station to print out our train tickets to Saint Petersburg that night (we had earlier bought the tickets online but must change the vouchers for tickets. Thank God for the Internet; a few years ago, you would not have been able to purchase Russian train tickets online). However, this proved easier said than done. We discovered that not many Muscovites were at all helpful and the odd one or two who were didn’t know how to use the self-help kiosk. So we struggled until the lady from the Information Counter (who had earlier brusquely gestured to us to use the kiosk) stepped out of her booth, presumably on her way to the ladies, helped us. That accomplished finally, we took the metro to Teatralnaya and walked to the post office at Tverskaya ulitsa. Now, Tverskaya Street is Moscow’s main shopping street. We found the post office (hidden within some building) and found out from a couple who had their Russian friend help them with the registration that they had been there for 45 minutes and counting already – and this friend was a Russian who could understand and read Russian and Cyrillic alphabets (so imagine how long it would take us non-Russian Cyrillic-illiterate trio). And apparently, we need to get the registration form online somewhere. We debated whether or not to proceed: Real Russia had advised Fifi there was no need; Alex had convinced us there was no need; but the Russian friend of the couple we met wasn’t sure. In the end, we decided not to do it. Instead, we bought some postcards and sent them home. I signed mine ‘From Russia With Love.’

We walked up Tverskaya Street and passed beautiful buildings and statues. We also stopped at Yeliseyevsky Gastronom, a food-hall located in a beautiful building (with chandeliers to boot!). After ooh-ing and aah-ing at the décor and other buildings, we finally arrived at Mayakovskaya metro station. Now some of Moscow metro stations are tourist attractions in their own right and if you are in Moscow and you have some spare time, do, do, do visit them if you can. There are stations ornamented with heroic sculptures, paintings, stained glass, carvings, mosaics and glittering chandeliers. With trains running every two minutes and considerably cheap fares (less than a Euro for any ride valid until you exit the system), travelling by metro is very reliable here – and get this, they never have any strikes. It’s just unthinkable. Millions of Muscovites rely on the metro to get around. Anyway, I digress.

We took the metro to the All Russia Exhibition Centre or more commonly known by its old name, VDNKh (short for Vystavka Dostizheniy Narodnovo Khozyaystva, yeah, I know, I know, what a mouthful), to spend the afternoon. After walking around the vast grounds of the Centre, we took a monorail from Sergeya Eyzenshteyna station to Timiryazevskaya where we then changed to metro, and after a few photo shoots at a few metro stations, we finally returned to the apartment. Fifi cooked dinner and we had an early dinner.

Alex then came before 9 pm and after chatting with him, we thanked him and left. We took the train to Komsomolskaya metro station and walked to Leningradsky vokzal, from where we would board the 11 pm 026А - Smena A.Betankurtrain overnight train to Saint Petersburg. We boarded the train at 10.30 pm and settled in our berth. A Russian lady joined in our quad-sharing berth and she showed us how to turn the seats into beds, how to pull out the ladder to climb up to the upper bunk, how to lock the berth door...we then settled in our beds and before long, the train pulled away from the station. On to our next destination!

To be continued

Getaway 2010: Episode 2

Saturday, 22 May 2010: RIX - SVO

Rosy (?!) Rossiya

We left after breakfast and walked to a bus stop to catch our bus back to the airport. Our Air Baltic flight took off at 1105 – after someone dealt with a drunk man sitting at the business area and talked him off the plane (we later saw him in a police car as we were taking off) - and we landed at Moscow Sheremetyevo Airport at 1415 local time (Moscow is three hours ahead of GMT). God, what a horrible-looking airport it was and we had to endure such a crazy long queue (seriously, even clearing the Haj immigration wasn’t as bad). We were practically the last ones to reach the immigration counter and guess what? There was some problem with my passport or my visa or whatever and what it meant was I was shuffled from one counter to another and had to endure an additional thirty-plus minutes of waiting – by which time, another plane-load of new passengers had arrived. I was so angry that at the end, I was feeling close to tears (how oxymoronic).

After my passport got its requisite stamp, I asked what the problem was and the stupid lady said, ‘No English.’ Typical, I thought, and without thinking swore out aloud. She seemed to understand and this irony was not lost on me. I said, ‘Oh so you don’t understand English but you understand what ‘F*** you’ means?’ and she retaliated by refusing to let me got through the metal barrier. I don’t know why the thought of slowly rotting away in a Russian prison cell still hadn’t occurred to me then but I was really that furious. I was let off after a while and I stormed off. Yeah, I know I should learn to curb my temper and especially when dealing with foreign immigration. It was not exactly a rosy reception from Rossiya but there you go. Anyway, that brief episode aside: I’ve been dreaming to come to this country for some time now and finally, there I was!

We then took the aeroexpress train to Belorussky Station and, as we were still struggling with our Cyrillic then, asked a passerby which metro station we should go to take a train to Kitai-Gorod. From Kitai-Gorod metro station, we walked to Nova Hostel. Actually, we met Alex, the owner, on our way there and he had almost given up on us (I’d forgotten that I mentioned arriving between 4-5 pm). We apologised and I explained that I was delayed longer than expected at the airport. He told us he had two places: one at Kitai-Gorod (with cats!) and another at Kurskaya (no cats). We told him we didn’t mind cats as long as there are no dogs but as the one at Kitai-Gorod had no hot water and he thought it’d be a problem for us, he’d arranged for us to stay at Kurskaya anyway. So we agreed and followed him. He hailed down a car and we all somehow got in, all four of us (including Alex) – OK five, including the driver – and our bags, and went to Kurskaya. (OK, actually in Moscow, you can hail down any car and the driver, depending on his destination, may agree to take you for a fee. But don’t try this alone as he may instead kidnap you. Stick to the metro!) His apartment was in a nondescript building but it was a superbly beautiful apartment with three bedrooms, one living room (with Internet!), one kitchen and a big, clean bathroom. We were happy with this.
We rushed to put our bags and explained that we were rushing to go to the Bolshoi Theatre for our La fille mal gardee ballet show (the tickets were bought online on Tuesday and Wednesday (two tickets at RUB800 each and the third ticket at RUB2000) before our journey but we agreed to split the cost equally). It was quite hilarious really when you think of it: there we were, dumping our bags and searching our wallet to pay him for the rent, and frantically explaining to Alex that we had to rush off with him explaining how to get there by metro. It was like wham, bam, thank-you-man and off we went.
The Bolshoi Theatre is undergoing renovation so our show was in the new ballroom which was equally grand and impressive and took our breath away. And I haven’t even got to the part of the crystal chandeliers yet. I don’t know much about ballet but I enjoyed the show, the ambience, and the experience very much.

After the show (and some photo taking), we left and walked to the Red Square (Krasnaya Ploschad). There’s nothing red about the square at all of course; in fact, the name comes from the Russian word krasnaya meaning ‘beautiful’. Site of the Victory Day Parade just a fortnight before, Red Square is the heart of Moscow and the first destination for most visitors to Moskva. It is surrounded by St Basil’s Cathedral, the State History Museum, Lenin’s Mausoleum, a section of the Kremlin’s long brick walls and GUM, the magnificent shopping complex (pronounced as ‘Goom’). The Red Square and Kremlin are both UNESCO World Heritage Sites. We were awed by the sights and magnitude of everything we saw today and we’d only been in Moscow for a few hours!!!

We finally returned to the apartment after 10 pm (or was it 11?). For a while, we were a bit lost: in our haste to leave for the Bolshoi earlier, we forgot to note the landmarks (except for HSBC Bank which shared the same building as the apartment), the exit from the metro station, the street name... but finally we managed to find the apartment alright.

To be continued

Getaway 2010: Episode 1

This trip had been planned since January. Flight ticket to Europe was bought in February and the subsequent flights bought in February and March, causing quite a dent in my pocket. Oh well. This time, I’ve decided to share my experience in bite-size entries (OK, some bites may be large). And this is how the story goes...

Thursday, 20 May 2010: KUL-CDG

I left home for KL Sentral at 8.30 pm (Mummy and Abah insisted on sending me to KL Sentral because they don’t trust lil’ me taking a cab at night alone all by myself, yes, believe it) and met up with Lin after 9 pm. We bought KLIA Express tickets and checked in our bags. Our flight took off on time and we settled in, hoping sleep would take over. No success for me on that point.

Friday, 21 May 2010: CDG - RIX

The Terminal/Rīga Rigour

We landed at 0645 Paris time and it was already a bright early summer morning (or late spring). It would be a long wait until our next flight out - we decided we’d fly out on the same day instead of going into the city and then back to the airport again a few days later. Seriously, I hate Charles de Gaulle Airport. It’s ugly and doesn’t offer comfortable seats for travellers to relax. Why, KLIA is so much better. And no eye candies either.

We finally boarded Air Baltic for our flight out with an overnight transit in Rīga. We purposely chose this flight for a number of reasons: (i) the direct flight also transits in Rīga for a few hours (it’s a direct flight but not a direct non-stop flight); (ii) if we took the direct flight, we’d arrive into the third city of the day after 9 pm and I wasn’t keen to navigate the city to our hostel at that hour; (iii) this flight cost less than a direct flight to the third city; and (iv) we get a free city thrown in at a lower cost so why not? Besides the Historic Centre of Rīga is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

We landed at Rīga International Airport after 6 pm, well after the scheduled time of 1750 (Latvia is two hours ahead of GMT) and met up with Fifi who flew in from London Gatwick to join us. After changing money at parex bank, we took bus #22 to the city. The bus stopped right opposite our hostel in the Old Town and we checked in first before venturing to check out Vecrīga (Old Rīga). Because it’s in Vecrīga, the hostel had a really serious and narrow staircase and we had to haul our bags up the three (or four? Well enough to make us huff and puff on our way up) floors to our room. Fortunately, our room with its three double-decker beds and one double bed had its own bathroom.
(Actually Fifi only confirmed joining us on 20 April and bought her air tickets two days later as she only received the green light to take leave then. I had already booked double rooms in three cities and had to make new search for triple rooms in those cities upon her confirmation. Only hostels offer triple rooms hence why we had to stay at one of those. I still refused to book three beds in a dorm though.)

We walked around Vecrīga and visited the Statue of Roland, the Blackheads House, Town Hall, saw St Peter’s Church from afar, walked past the Dome Cathedral and the Dome Square, the Cats’ House, the Three Brothers or Trīs brāļi (the oldest stone houses still standing in the city), past the Old City Wall, Jacobs Barracks (the longest building in the city) and the Powder Tower before crossing over to the Lalma Clock and on to the Freedom Monument. We even walked the extra block to the Navity of Christ Orthodox Cathedral before returning back to the Blackheads House and then to the hostel. We met the occasional drunk English and Irishmen on our way around Vecrīga – not surprising as Rīga is considered a destination for stagnights. We also met a young friendly Latvian who took the time to show us around some places.

Dinner was had at the hostel kitchen. Knackered, we then decided to call it a day. Only to be woken up in the wee hours of the morning by some drunk trying to open our door. Scary, but not as scary as what I encountered in Bonn last year.

To be continued