Blogging when blindfolded

Saturday. Singapore. Scorching. Shots (of coffee). Spotify. Shorts & Sandals.......Sublime!













I'm going to ignore the odd strange glance as I sit here in my favourite coffee den that's just round the corner from where I live. I don't care if anyone sees me tapping my feet to the silent beats of Billy Idol's greatest hits that are pouring into my brain via a smart new set of near-invisible earphones.

I've got an urge to write something, even though I don't have anything to say yet. I so admire Giles Coren's columns in the UK Times - how he and people like him can knock out an easy few thousand words every week and make them interesting fills me with respect for proper writers and journalists. The trick is he knows that no-one really cares about his daily ablutions, or natty observations about the postman with the wonky glass-eye, so he writes about his life with the irreverence of a food critic checking out some new cocky restaurant - oh but wait, he really is a food critic, that explains everything!

But I can't be like him. I'm caught in the trap that whilst I don't expect or advise anyone to read my blogs (I do it because it's geekier than keeping a diary), I can't ignore that someone might, and I don't want to look like an utter pillock any more than I do already.

So, Saint Giles , patron saint of the flippant witty introspective, please hear my prayer. I'm just going to start typing and I'll let my keyboard take me wherever it wants.....like Blogging when blindfolded.....

Let's talk about religion. I used to believe in religion. I used to believe in God. I was brought up in an Anglican / Church of England society. I did the choirboy thing, the alter boy thing, the reading the lesson on Sunday thing, and the odd Christian retreat camping mini-break thing in the school holidays - yeah, we got through more than our fair share of folk guitars and tambourines back then.

I so wanted to believe, and I prayed every day. I read the bible cover to cover. I think I stuck with it at least until about University before I realised I was missing something, and could no longer keep going through the motions...

Now I don't believe. I have no beef with those who do, but it's just not for me anymore. It was getting so hard to prop up my childhood-era belief systems with my own emerging adult experience of life around me.

That leaves a whole bunch of challenges - a huge gap to be filled - all those awkward Why? questions that small children ask at the most inconvenient moments suddenly have to be re-opened for cross-examination again. Such as, If we and all the other the lifeforms on this planet merely exist for existence's sake without some higher power, then what's it all for? In the words of Basil Faulty, "What is the bloody point?"

This childish concept of being 'good' to offer up exaltations to or seek blessings from a divine creator makes sense to me no longer.

Looking around - both locally, and in the news, I see a load of decent and kind people who live modest, considerate, charitable, and worthy lives. My point is I'm sure they would behave like this whether they thought God existed or not. Nice people will be nice, because it's in their nature. My point is they don't need a religious belief system to make them be nice....

But look at the greedy, nasty scumbags out there. So many seem to justify their actions through one religion or another. So many well intentioned religions seem to get distorted by despots in order to manipulate, and justify blatantly inequitable behaviour. Just look at all the dictators, wars, genocides, and human rights violations - most have a religious dimension to them.

Also look at the poorest, most helpless people in the world. It breaks my heart to see reports of those thousands homeless and starving in Sudan. Those I saw being interviewed on television last week often mentioned God. Some believed that the famine was part of some overall plan from God that would work out in the end as long as they kept their faith. I would never criticise what anyone does to cope with periods of such extreme crisis, but I do wonder if those same people in better times might have done more to fight back against the corruption of their own leaders had they not been waiting for God to step in. For example, perhaps they'd have been less likely to put up with religion-based conflicts with neighbouring communities, if they themselves hadn't been so conditioned to accept what their leaders were saying had to be done in the name of a distorted religion.

So if nice people don't need God to be nice, and nasty people can't help using religion to advance their own greed, and hopeless people use it to cope but in a way that perhaps keeps them in a cycle of hopelessness, why wouldn't an all-seeing deity spot this and do something, like removing any traces of themselves from humanity?

No, to me it doesn't add up anymore. In my view, religion is a 100% human-made construct. In olden days it had it's place for sure - when there weren't any other theories to explain things like day and night, seasons, why some people get sick and others die young. But today we have science, logic, philosophy to shed at least some light on these conundrums.

Maybe, our forebears created religion to explain the unexplainable, so that daily life could function without the paralysing distraction of so many unanswerable questions. Pretty soon however, the smart and ambitious realised that control of religious doctrine was they key to controlling what the masses were allowed to think, feel, and do - it was, and still is, the most powerful political tool ever invented (followed closely by the invention of the written word).

I just don't get that even in countries today where standards of education can be so high and accommodate plenty of free-thinking, and quality of life is not that bad, why religion often still plays such a large part in how the countries are run, and how unsubstantiated beliefs are able to override rational thought of many a regular citizen.

So what does this mean to me and my life on this fine Saturday morning? It means I get to create my own sense of good and bad, right and wrong. I get to decide for myself what I want the legacy of my time on this planet to be. I no longer need to spend time waiting for God or fate to fix things by magic, nor do I feel personally cursed when bad things happen. It's quite liberating, like I've escaped my own belief-Matrix.

But I do feel a kind of spiritual loneliness - I miss the 'invisible hug' of having someone or something watch over me and those I love. I'm sad to accept that deceased loved-ones who used to be in my life can't be up in heaven waiting if a religious type of heaven doesn't exist. Instead I've opted to believe in a different kind of heaven - a legacy and continuity created by the ripples of the life we lead, and particularly how these are retained in in the memories and emotions of the people we knew. Maybe in a thousand years, the only shred of evidence that I ever even existed could be this miserable blog in some Martian's scrapbook of historic curiosities.

But it's a hard bargain to accept. I'm sitting here still in Shots getting a different type of strange glance now - not because of tapping feet and leaky earphones, but because of the tears rolling down my face, as I'm suddenly hit hard by the memories all the wonderful people who I still miss and love, but who are no longer around on this earth.

So, no time to loose. I'd better get on with making the most of every moment, and opportunity I can. Who knows in the years ahead my perspectives on this may change again. I am more than willing to accept that I may have got it all wrong, this is just where my keyboard & coffee took me this morning - and all it took was a blog and a metaphorical blindfold....


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Mosque St,,Singapore

150th haircut

You know when you're in a silly mood when you're at the pub and, for no reason at all, the conversation with the person you've just met switches from all that serious talk about work, life, and world affairs and just flips seamlessly onto debating how many haircuts an average person will have in a lifetime.

I'm sure it's a sum that very few people ever do for themselves, but maybe that's a tragic omission. We discovered it's not about the number itself, it's the fact that it forces you to replay your life at extreme fast forward in order to work it out - and therein lies the fun part. Unless of course, baldness has kicked in at a very early age, which luckily enough wasn't a problem for anyone at our table.

I'm 35, and I worked out that I've had 150 haircuts in my life - That's a big number - how did that happen, so many snips yet nearly all so totally forgettable? That means I've wasted 3 or 4 precious days worth of my mortal existence sitting wretchedly in a barber's chair wishing to hell that I knew what I should say when the the inevitable "Do you want clippers?" gets asked. How the flaming Nora should I know? I must have been off-sick on the day when they did the haircut survival lesson. Believe me, I've tested all the permutations - from Yes, No, Just a little, or my all time genius masterstroke - "What would you suggest?" - Checkmate!...It never fails.

My new pub-nonsense buddy worked out that she'd had over 300. Partly because she was a teensy bit older than me (she never said by how much, and I'm far too British to ask). I wasn't surprised - after all I always knew that I'm a bit feral in the hair-maintenance department, but also she's a girl and girls actually enjoy going to the hairdressers for the chance to gossip - as far as I could work out, it's essentially therapy but with added scissors and straighteners.

In every way that matters, new bad haircuts are like ugly babies. Example: someone comes into work (or some other group), with either a new haircut or their newborn baby and the effect, I swear, is identical. First let's consider a good one to give some context: most people will mildly coo and say how nice, because saying much more than that would be pointless, the person in question already just knows that they've got lucky with a cute one..Just like when Taratino's character Jimmie in Pulp Fiction harshly rebukes a compliment from an inept gangster about his gourmet coffee, because he already knows how good it is, and doesn't need to hear it from anyone else.






Back to the point of hair and babies - if it's a bad one then the social conditioning will kick in as follows: Half the people will be too shocked and not say anything (mostly the blokes in the room), and the other half will over-compensate by outpouring downright lies such as, "Awww, how gorgeous". The killer truth is in both cases, baby and haircuts, it's too damn late...the deed has been done and for the next few months the butt-ugly baby is not going to get any more aesthetically acceptable, and the wrecked haircut is not going to fix itself for weeks either.

This whole bizarre conversation was cool for two reasons. Firstly it distracted us from noticing how often the waiter silently re-filled the our wine glasses and that's probably why I was a bit wobbly riding my bike home, and secondly it got me to enjoy again just a few of those 150 haircuts that I actually do remember. Here's my top 3.

1. University, Cambridge, UK, probably 1996 at a hairdressers not far from the punt-rental shops on the river. Unbelievably gorgeous hairdresser, and despite my being a scruffily student at the time, she and I just clicked. She was Russian, over here to study economics as a new post-grad at the old Anglia polytechnic, and hairdressing was her part-time job. We got talking as soon as I got into the chair, and I was still there two hours later and she kept offering me free coffee. There wasn't a massive queue, and she must have deliberately gone at quarter speed. I was so shy back then, I didn't ask her out there and then. I went back to that hairdressers about once a fortnight for the rest of the term, but I never saw her again.

2. Christchurch, New Zealand (or a town about half an hour south of the city). Probably about 2002. I'd just spent a month in Australia, travelling all around with work. At the end on my way home, I took a few days to explore NZ. Rather than stay in B&B's or hostels every night, I hired a hard-top-cab pickup truck, so that I could sleep in the back whenever and wherever I wanted to stop. One day, I'd just got a speeding ticket (the first in my life), and so trying to get at least some value from the fine, I asked the policeman for suggestions on a good place to visit and stop overnight. He suggested the next town, where his sister ran a barber's shop and a cafe. I went there, and although I never said exactly how I met her brother, or got her recommendation, it was a good haircut, and it's there I learnt about an amazing place called Akaroa just about an hour's drive over other side of the mountain. It remains, without question, one of the most stunning places I've ever been to. Just look (note: this is not my photo!)






3. Las Vegas, 2010. Not the actual haircut - but the best thing was how I got there. I'd upgraded my rental car at the airport to a totally obscene 7 litre all-american muscle car - turned out it was a brand new, and a quite limited edition. I'd asked the hotel doorman for a decent off-strip hairdresser recommendation, and he gave me a suggestion in an out-of-town retail park a ten minute ride away. I only realised just how new this car was when I got a small crowd of people hanging round the car when I parked just in front of the shop.






I got to live my 'Dukes of Hazard / Vegas wide-boy' fantasy! However the haircut was a bit of a disaster - A real Nevada hobo special!

So, next time you're at the pub and you've run out of politics and religion to argue about, why not give it a try - the results could be hair-raising. /snip.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Chinatown, Singapore, at Shot's coffee bar.

Philippine Pottering

This area of the Philippines has some of the last few unspoilt patches of rainforest in South East Asia. It is perhaps an unexpected legacy of the huge US base that was active here until the early nineties when a nearby mountain exploded and covered the place in volcanic ash, and the the government decided not to renew the lease.

The base zone cordoned off a segment of land around Subic Bay, near the city of Olongapo. Within that area, except for where the military built a town that still looks like a piece of mini-America, much of the forest was left alone, whilst outside so much of the countryside has been cleared for agricultural purposes.  It's now a national park and free-trade port, but it doesn't appear that the local authorities have yet realised the growing potential for Eco-tourism.

I'm on the bus heading back to Manilla, and will be back in Singapore tonight.  It's an incredible contrast. Not unlike my brief experiences of Thailand or Indonesia, there are so many people living a breadline-poor hand-to-mouth existence here.

On the dive boat yesterday, the local owner of the small craft told us about the year she'd just had - she'd been double-crossed by her previous expat business partner, who got into debts and just left the country without saying a word, leaving her stuck with a mountain of bills. Plus, she'd got diagnosed with cancer, and was only able to pay for half a round of chemotherapy - and to do that her family had to sell virtually everything they had. She was amazingly cheerful despite this, and clearly a resourceful woman, as through the help of former dive students she'd recently been loaned or given money to finish the treatment, and start back in business with a new little boat.

Staying in Subic in the homestay guesthouse run by an Australian dive instructor Nate (plus his parents), I was able to truly relax - it was a house built for officers' families in the fifties, in a quiet cul-de-sac, with even a small ginger pet cat to complete the domestic ensemble. Nathan and his parents we're typically Aussie - friendly, direct, and very matter of fact about the quirks of setting up a dive business in a place where so many foreign business have come and gone before even doing one day's proper trading. It's not clear why the area is somewhat financially stagnant, the tax breaks in the free zone mean some firms pay no tax all for the first five years. However, there's definitely a whiff of suffocating bureaucracy, and if not underlying corruption exactly, certainly that it helps to have a local friend in local government or law enforcement to 'oil the wheels' of any teething snags that arise.

I hope to return soon, as Nate and family are great hosts, and there are some more excellent dives to do in the bay.  As for Subic bay, I think it's got some big challenges ahead if it wants secure attract more tourists looking for a more complete and distinctive destination.



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Two months of slinking

Shots in Club Street. At last a decent cup of coffee, within 2 minutes of home. Not a huge latte, but seriously well made. And best of all proper ham in the ham and cheese croissant that came with it!

Singapore truly is Asia-lite for expats. So much so that unlike Shanghai, or Manilla for instance, the expat gettos aren't nearly as noticeable, nor do they need to play the role of a foreigner's oasis in the middle of a very shockingly-different local culture.

My Singapore adventure is now just over two months old. I have no regrets in taking a chance on a new job, in a new sector, in a new continent. I have learnt so much already, and there is so much more to explore.

Before I came out here, I bought a couple of books, and read a plethora of online blogs and forum posts about moving out to Asia in general, and Singapore specifically. Most of them seemed to be written by the slightly-more bored half of an expat couple, or a backpacking traveller aiming to use up every last second of web-time in some random internet cafe.

Nothing quite hit the spot for someone in my situation - I'm in my mid-thirties - that's no great differentiator, but I'm neither part of an relocating couple or family, not am I passing through Singapore on the way to somewhere else.

I'm here with a permanent job, which doesn't mean I'll stay here forever, but it also means I'm quite unusual in that I'm not counting down on a 6,12, or 24 month work contract. That changes the mindset somewhat - I'm able to take my time as I get to know the place, and revisit what type of spice I'm looking to sprinkle into my life.

So, if I could send a message back to myself 3 months ago, and give myself a top five list of bits of advice for coming out here, what would it be?

1. Do come out a week or two before the new job starts.

I came out just under a week before the new job started. In hindsight two would have better. Setting up bank accounts, and getting all the government paperwork is very efficient here, so all good, but getting a sense of the place, the districts, and working out where you might want to live does take a while.

Once a full-time job started, I found it virtually impossible to keep on 'neighbourhood' screening. I was lucky in that I did manage to narrow down the areas I wanted to be in, so then it was just about finding the right apartment within that target zone.

2. Be ready to buy lots of cheap umbrellas,

I'm still not rain-savvy over here. One moment it's ridiculously hot and sunny, then next minute a torrential downpour. Once I even found that it was raining on one side of the street, but bone dry on the other. The rain can be incredibly localised.

If you don't want to get wet, think about an umbrella, or else leave some cupboard space spare at home to stack up all the 5 dollar brollies you'll end up with in your collection.

3. Taxi savviness, and walking speeds.

There are loads of taxis in Singapore. But getting one at a peak time calls for some kind of special voodoo, or alternatively a rather handy Iphone app that will automatically call a cab to your location (for a small booking fee).

The Singaporians in my office find it amazing that I prefer to walk as much as I do (I walk the nine minutes from home the office every day). What I find amazing is just how slowly most people walk on the pavements. It really is about half London speeds. I like to call it 'Asia-speed'. However, the locals have it just about right - the crazy Europeans walk fast, and then complain about being too hot and sweaty on arrival - D'oh!

4. Favourite places \ areas

I chose to live in Chinatown, quite near Club Street. I was won over by the proximity to work, the restaurants and bars on club street itself, but also because I found a recently converted traditional shop-house apartment nearby. It to me was a very appealing blend of modern convenience (it was converted in about 2004), but with the traditional old-Singapore ambience.

Shopping - Orchard Road is probably best for the bigger department store type shopping, the M&S there is pretty handy given I know how their sizes work. For the basics of life, I prefer Carrefour (there's one two stops away from me on the MRT metro at Dhobby Gaut) - a good range, not too pricy even for things like nice bread and cheese, also great for basic items like vacuum cleaners, and kettles. Cold Storage is also Ok for groceries, but quite pricey, and it's odd to see Waitrose essentials sold as a premium brand.

Food and drink. This is more difficult, as I've yet to find many places that I think are outstandingly good. There's a lot of focus on brand and glitz, when a lot of what is actually served seems quite ordinary to me.

A mate at work and his wife owns a bar called Speakeasy (on Blair Road). I probably would never have found it had he not told me about it. It's modelled on a prohibition-era bar, the reason it works is the way it has been delicately done, and really works. The staff are very good - friendly, attentive. The food and drink also extremely pleasant - If I crave a decent glass of wine, that's where I'll go.

I work in Raffles Quay, and my favourite option for a grab-and-go lunch is the Chicken sandwich from 'Al Marche' on the Marina Bay Link. From the outside, the shop looks like it's opened without bothering to contract any shop fitters (concrete floors, and just stuff on free-standing shelves). But it's quick, tasty, and very reasonably priced.

I'm still looking for an 'evening local', and a favourite weekend perch. The evening local probably is going to have to be on Club Street, which is on my way back from the office. The weekend perch may well turn out to be 'Shots' also on Club Street' (which is what I discovered today) but I still want somewhere where I can come on a Saturday or Sunday morning, sit and watch the world go by, and have a light coffee or breakfast. There's loads of places that do a massive brunch menu - but I'm not looking for an excuse to loose the whole day. I just want somewhere to gradually wake myself up, and plan the rest of my weekend.

5. Little things that make life go smoother.

An iphone (or a decent smart-phone) with a local sim-card that can do data.

I stopped carrying my rough guide or any sort of map, once I had my old unused iphone unlocked (by one of the many tiny phone stalls in chinatown), and I'd bought a pre-paid Singtel Sim card. For 7 dollar's I can get a week's worth of data access, and that's more than enough for some google searches, and use of the map (and also the taxi order-app which I already mentioned). There's a bunch of useful apps (including a free bus planner) I can also tether it to my laptop or my ipad, which means I'm always connected. Without doubt the most useful tool to get to know a new city.

An ez-link card for the MRT metro and buses. Easily bought at the larger stations. Just like a London oyster card, plus can also be used in some convenience stores for small purchases.

A subscription to a UK VPN service. I've got one that costs 5 GBP per month, and it let me watch the BBC iplayer and 4OD programmes as if I were still at home. I've left the Uk with most-of a year's paid up tv license still to go, so I'm not doing anything wrong here. That along with an FM radio tuned to the World Service which keeps me connected with global and local events.

The last one is actually a work in progress: A folding electric bicycle. I bought it yesterday (have been looking around for a few weeks). Owning a car in Singapore is very expensive, and not generally recommended unless you have a particular need, car fetish, or a young family. However, whilst taxis are cheap, and the public transport is super-efficient, I really missed independent transport. Sometimes I want to get out and about, but without any particular destination in mind. My cunning plan is that a folding bike will be easy to keep in the apartment (it will fit in the cupboard), plus also it can be taken in the boot of taxis, on busses, and on the MRT metro out of peak hours (so it's fine to take during the entire weakened). I'll be able to go to a certain area (like out to the East Coast path), and then potter from there.

The electric bit is exciting for two reasons. Firstly, I love anything that's a gadget, but more seriously I can confirm after a test ride yesterday that this thing can zip along at around 20 kmh without me having to break a sweat. It'll have a range of about 30km on a charge. There are lots of people with folding bikes here, and lots of electric bikes (many of them not approved by the Singapore transport authority), but my new bike (from Chong Chung bicycles) will be one of the rare examples of an approved, electric folding bike!

Not sure how often I'm going to post here. But I'm just writing it for my own pleasure - so I'll just see how it goes.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Upper Cross St,,Singapore

First post

Let the adventure start here!