tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86336116256760278922024-03-05T21:45:39.692+08:00thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindthE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.comBlogger177125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-36055736092371692222023-12-10T10:14:00.000+08:002023-12-10T10:14:01.367+08:00The Runaway Cat<p>Ogre-mi ran away once. We confined him in a room when we were staying in a rented house. That time he was in good health, gained some weight (fat) after his dental and maggot issues. He learned to open the window himself. He's a really, really smart cat. </p><p>So one day I was back from work and I found the window opened and he was not in his room. I was furious. I went out to search for him for a while but didn't find him. That time I still wasn't too attached to him. And I thought, okay if he wants to run away, so be it. </p><p>He came back the next day, with the same injury on his left arm - a bloody, large cavity hole. Frustrated as we were, we still brought him to see the vet, again. And nurse him back to health, again. He had to wear the cone of shame for the whole time. He hated it but he still tolerated it. Just like how he tolerated my excessive kissing and touching and hugging.</p><p>That was the only one time he successfully escaped.</p>thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-36393720318576527422023-12-04T21:16:00.000+08:002023-12-04T21:16:20.168+08:00Life With Ogre-mi<p>It was just like a normal cat with Ogre-mi, before being diagnosed with CKD. We feed him once in the morning and once in the evening. In the evening he'll be released from the confinement of his room and into the living area. Feeder would play with him with his favourite mouse, but first the sitting on Feeder's lap ritual should not be forgotten. </p><p>After he'd diagnosed with CKD, we moved him into the master bedroom with us. He was too weak to move around the house anyway. The daily routine also had many changes along with the terrible news. Force feeding food, medicine, and subcutaneous fluid, twice a day. The doctor said everyday is a bonus. We had a bonus of close to 2 years.</p><p>Over months he got better and his Creatinine reading had dropped from over 2000 to around 300. We were thrilled. Every visit to the clinic there was improvement on his blood test result. Nevertheless the routine had to carry on. It got easier because we didn't have to force feed him anymore. He was eating willingly with appetite. To a point where the vet said we need to control his body weight to not reach 6 kg. He was at 5.8 kg. However the routine was taking so much of our time and it was eating us up, especially me. But we never love him any less. Ogre-mi was the best cat still - obedient, loving, playful, cute. He was everything I'd hope for in a cat. He brought me so much joy.</p><p>And then we moved to our new house, with Ogre-mi. He and Panda-mi got used to the new environment almost immediately. When he was first diagnosed we didn't even dream that he would survive until then. He stayed one and a half year in our new house. By then he occupied the whole double storey with Panda-mi, roaming around freely. I think he loves his new house. </p><p><span style="vertical-align: inherit;"><span style="vertical-align: inherit;">Panda-mi tagged along with Ogre-mi all the time, until Donkey-mi came along. Then he switched his direction to tagging with Donkey-mi. Probably due to the fact that Ogre-mi is older and play with him less. But Ogre-mi did play. He would jump up onto the platform above the TV, and he would play on the cat staircase, jumping onto the topmost cubicle usually, then looking down on his humans and his fellow </span></span><i><span style="vertical-align: inherit;"><span style="vertical-align: inherit;">kyoudai</span></span></i><span style="vertical-align: inherit;"><span style="vertical-align: inherit;">. Yes, for sure. Ogre-mi is their </span></span><i><span style="vertical-align: inherit;"><span style="vertical-align: inherit;">aniki</span></span></i> - and always will be. Although this <i>aniki</i> sometimes bully them - slapping their heads and faces. I remember looking at their interaction was the most rewarding thing to do at home. That was when things were good.</p><p>Ogre-mi's health started to deteriorate more or less during the time when I was outstation working in Fuzhou, China. But we brushed it aside at that time, thinking it was nothing.</p>thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-34372360304081153162023-12-01T19:50:00.005+08:002023-12-01T19:52:33.095+08:00The Tabby<p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana;">Ogre-mi is what we call the <span>貍花貓, the most commonly seen type of cat in the stray market. You see his kind almost everywhere. They are so common that they are the least adopted type, other than black cats. But they are the sweetest.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="background-color: white;">Ogre-mi has a on/off button on his back. Probably a result of fights for survival on the street. He also has a patch near his left arm that didn't grow fur anymore. That was a result from a very deep wound he had when we found him. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="background-color: white;">And of course his crooked, protruding teeth and his slightly deformed chin, which we could only imagine what he had gone through. Feeder named him after his signature teeth, looking like an ogre.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="background-color: white;">Sometime he'd look at us with a "confused", "stupid" look on his face. And that always cracked us up. That expression is priceless and only Ogre-mi has that. But he's not "stupid" - far from that. He is the smartest cat of the four. He feels and understands human emotions - he knows when we're angry or upset, and he knows when we love him. I would kiss him, touch his back excessively, bury my face into his back, and he would tolerate all these even though I could tell he didn't like it. He would tolerate me doing these things because he knows these are the act of love.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="background-color: white;">His favourite though, is sitting on Feeder's lap. And he loves it when Feeder brush his fur. He'd close his eyes and enjoy the process. Sometimes he'd bury his face into Feeder's arm, for a long long time. He really loves us. And we love him a lot too. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="background-color: white;">I just really, really miss him. And I wish he is here. I wish to see him again.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="background-color: white;">I would attach a photo here of him on Feeder's lap. But I'm so afraid to look through his photos right now. I will do it when I'm ready.</span></span></p>thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-63772564215539324202023-11-29T21:07:00.001+08:002023-12-01T19:28:39.665+08:00The First Time We Met<p>Feeder went out to buy gas for cooking. He came back not with gas, but with a seriously injured Ogre-mi, of course that time we didn't call him that. We put him in an extra room to isolate him from our existing Medium Cat. And waited for the next morning to bring him to the vet. That was Feeder's birthday 11th January 2021. I left the taking care work mostly to Feeder because Ogre-mi was so smelly and dirty and weak.</p><p>Ogre-mi was being brought to the Ipoh Garden Animal Clinic, which I hated and would only go there if I had no choice (it was one of the largest and most complete clinic in Ipoh). The vet cleaned his maggot-infested mouth and diagnosed him FIV positive, estimated age about 8 years old. He wasn't a young cat.</p><p>We brought him back and nurse him into health, and fatness. We named him obviously because of his crooked teeth and slightly deformed chin, which was amazing he lived through it. I didn't think his dental condition would be one of the reasons and complications that caused his death later.</p><p>He wasn't exactly good friends with Medium Cat though. They hated each other! But that didn't stop me from loving him so much. I always love Ogre-mi more than Medium Cat.</p><p>When I came back from work. The first thing I'd do was to release Medium Cat into wilderness, and Ogre-mi from his isolation room. Because they didn't do well together, Ogre-mi could only be confined into a small room during the entire one and a half year. Only when we moved to a new house that he was able to roam the whole double-storey area whilst Medium Cat is being released as an outdoor cat.</p><p>When Feeder came back from work, he would sit down crossed-leg, and Ogre-mi could come greet him, climbed onto his lap and would sit there like a boss. And he wouldn't leave until he was satisfied, by then usually Feeder's legs were already numb. He wouldn't sit on my lap though, no matter how hard I asked. He did try and maybe it was not as comfortable, he'd sit for a while and got back up. </p><p>Ogre-mi would understand if we'd beckon for him to come. And he would obey. And when we sat on the couch and tap on the seat next to us, he would jump up to sit next to us obediently. He understood this hand gesture! He was truly the most obedient cat I've ever met.</p><p>Sometimes Ogre-mi would come to sit next to us uninvited. He'd always jump up to bed, made a u-turn, and leaned against your leg. And he would make sure with the u-turn to face outward, and not towards his humans.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdEN_3yTSazp1Q2ElMdWdF8OXf4Xx5b6NEJR4Giu21v_SA3m5mWXJng7U5Id0cylRWIx_v6zmf0xbdVaGf1oGFd0B5w9qWFzd0Ag2N73TeJFSIMzyzn9hSQUQshVAPAojkfFnr4rmOItkAEDkbdFw-fPhOlBAnD7wm1bA0sxUwb6J0TtoPvn-omzarBqM/s2560/IMG-20231129-WA0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="2560" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdEN_3yTSazp1Q2ElMdWdF8OXf4Xx5b6NEJR4Giu21v_SA3m5mWXJng7U5Id0cylRWIx_v6zmf0xbdVaGf1oGFd0B5w9qWFzd0Ag2N73TeJFSIMzyzn9hSQUQshVAPAojkfFnr4rmOItkAEDkbdFw-fPhOlBAnD7wm1bA0sxUwb6J0TtoPvn-omzarBqM/w400-h400/IMG-20231129-WA0003.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The leftmost photo was when we first picked him up. The rightmost was when he was healthiest.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEcKMjeaJpD7mSmtaVMk6RDDQIvqm7HGoARsyrqsQLLA6h0iVIyAWDPxae531K2ua4kSryJuqGYgftRPbEswAjrhEJVDUhT5eh3b4H1aSI5ZdcDf1IImpe_H0CLM2RXRU20zACCm4JdzlmVK3O1o9LwLgXui9EBTUmLYb7xFa3Qo88Bowa2WFdfY5jWkY/s2560/IMG-20231129-WA0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="2560" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEcKMjeaJpD7mSmtaVMk6RDDQIvqm7HGoARsyrqsQLLA6h0iVIyAWDPxae531K2ua4kSryJuqGYgftRPbEswAjrhEJVDUhT5eh3b4H1aSI5ZdcDf1IImpe_H0CLM2RXRU20zACCm4JdzlmVK3O1o9LwLgXui9EBTUmLYb7xFa3Qo88Bowa2WFdfY5jWkY/w400-h400/IMG-20231129-WA0001.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ogre-mi was healthiest at these moments, way before his CKD diagnosis.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-25823106183128034242017-03-21T15:38:00.000+08:002017-03-21T15:47:04.498+08:00The Nightingale - Review<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
When I read a historical fiction, I expect – of
course – a historical fiction, not a soap opera with eye-rolling cliché and melodrama.
The Nightingale is filled with exaggerated dramatic moments and chick-lit plot. It
didn’t make a good historical fiction even if Kristin Hannah threw in a <span style="color: red;">*SPOILER*</span> rape element.<br />
<br />
Few things.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: 14.2pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -14.2pt; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->The Characters<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: 14.2pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -14.2pt; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
None of the characters are really likable,
especially the two protagonists Vianne and Isabelle. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Let’s talk about Isabelle. She was impulsive,
hot-tempered, uncontrollable, irresponsible. She had not only once put her
family in danger due to her childish thinking and behavior. When Beck billeted
at Vianne’s house, she was rude to him thereby risking her sister’s and niece’s
life. Had Beck not been a decent man, all of them would have been dead. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
As for Vianne, she was just plain stupid. She
hid Rachel in her cellar on the day of the deportation of Jewish, but only until noon.
She couldn’t even wait till the end of the day before she thought it was safe
to let her out. And Rachel, being even dumber, risked getting deported (which
she did) for a bath.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<i>“I
went to town. Everything seems normal. Maybe Beck was being overly cautious,
but I think you should spend one more night down there.” </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<i>Rachel’s face was
drawn, tired-looking. “I’ll need diapers. And a quick bath. Ari and I both
smelled.”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
In another event when Isabelle was shot and
Vianne insisted that her sister stayed to be cared by her. Having killed Beck
moments ago, she needed to be reminded that an injured woman in her house was
going to draw attention. If she would have used her brain a little it would not
be so much effort to figure out this rocket science. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<i>“Enough,”
Henri said, stepping between them. “She can’t stay here, Vianne. Think about
it. The Germans are going to come looking for their dead captain. They don’t
need to find a woman with gunshot wound and false papers. You understand?”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Sometimes characters were shaped
in a way that they were not supposed to be likable. But in this case the result
was that I ended up not caring much about what happened to them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: 14.2pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -14.2pt; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->The Writing<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: 14.2pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -14.2pt; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
The writing style is generally flat and, yes,
chick-lit. I don’t have anything against such genre. I even gave a high <a href="http://geographicallyblind.blogspot.my/2016/04/me-before-you-book-review.html" target="_blank">review for Me Before You</a> and I specifically praised Jojo Moyes’ writing. But The Nightingale, is
a chick-lit with historical fiction in disguise.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<i>She
was so surprised that she couldn’t think how to respond. He was saying he would
die to protect Isabelle. He turned to her, gazed at her. Gazed, not looked.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
There were things like these that reminded me of
E.L.James’ infamous Fifty Shades trilogy. Kristin Hannah seemed to think her emphasizing
of a “gaze” instead of a “look” would stun or awe the readers emotionally.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<i>For
the first time, Ga</i><i>ë</i><i>tan smiled and Vianne understood how this
scrawny, sharp-featured man in his beggar’s clothes had swept Isabelle off her
feet. He had the kind of smile that inhabited every part of his face – his eyes,
his cheeks; there was even a dimple.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
That’s right, dimple is the answer to all
questions!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: 14.2pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -14.2pt; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span><!--[endif]-->Fiction or imagination?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: 14.2pt; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -14.2pt; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
There were events and moments when I wondered
did Kristin Hannah do her research properly. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Times when it was “freezing cold” when hiking
through the Nightingale escape route. Now I’d been to hiking in Nepal. It was
neither raining nor snowing, but the temperature was low, close to sub-zero.
But when we hiked, there wasn’t an instant when we felt “freezing cold”. When
we walked our body generated heat, especially when there was a uphill hike or
up a flight of steps. At all times, we wore a layer of long-sleeve shirt during
the hike. When we stopped for meals it was not until for a while that we needed
to wear the down jacket. So when Hannah described the mountain scene, I had
many doubts.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Times when Hannah explained Rossignol’s family
financial status and asset. Julien Rossignol was a war soldier and a bookseller
and he owned a property (Le Jardin) in Carriveau, a bookshop and an apartment
in Paris. I am no expert of France economy in the 1940s but I thought that was a
bit too well-off for a bookseller. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Overall I gave it a 2 star out of 5. This is
the first book I read of Kristin Hannah’s and I will keep in mind not to read
another one.<o:p></o:p></div>
thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-24067770327870707042017-01-12T11:00:00.000+08:002017-01-12T11:00:05.551+08:00Sharing My Itinerary - Hokkaido - Day 3<u>Day 3</u><br />
<br />
Collected car from Times Car Rental, within walking distance from Superhotel Kushiro Ekimae. I made the booking through a website called <a href="http://en.tabirai.net/car/?cartop=navigation-en" target="_blank">Tabirai</a> - English-friendly and very responsive to every question asked.<br />
<ul>
<li>Car collection on Day 3 at 10am, return on Day 5 at 11am.</li>
<li>Price 11 800 yen (rental and included CDW coverage) + 3240 yen (for NOC coverage) = total 15 040 yen. NOC coverage is 1080 yen per day, hence for 3 days would be 3240 yen.</li>
<li>The car was completed with 4WD (four wheel drive), snow tire and a built-in GPS device.</li>
<li>CDW and NOC are some sort of a safety insurance package and super safety insurance package respectively. You could read about it <a href="http://www.timescar-rental.com/support/" target="_blank">here</a>. It is highly recommended that you get the NOC package.</li>
</ul>
<div>
The easiest way to navigate in Japan is either with (a) map code, or (b) phone number of the destination. In my case nothing went wrong with map code that I found using this <a href="http://www.mapion.co.jp/" target="_blank">website</a>. Of course, all these research had to be done beforehand.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Visited Kushiro Tanchozuru National Park or 釧路市丹顶鹤自然公园. Entrance fee 470 yen. Free parking just outside of the park.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Drove to Akan Lake and checked in to <i>ryokan</i> (Japanese style hotel).</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Visited Ainu Kotan Village. Everthing in the Akan Lake town is within walking distance.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Accommodation: Lake Akan Tsuruga Wings, 12 100 yen per person per night for a 3-person-room, addtional 250 yen is payable for <i>onsen</i> (hot spring) charges. Buffet dinner and buffet breakfast included. Free parking available.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There was no outdoor <i>onsen</i> in the Tsuruga Wings, however there was a passage connected to Akan Yuku no Sato Tsuruga, which had a larger <i>onsen</i> located in the open. Both <i>ryokan</i> belonged to the Tsuruga group, and guests from both were free to use any <i>onsen</i> facility. Usually it is more comfortable in a outdoor <i>onsen</i> as there'll be a good view, and it is less stuffy. It is amazing feeling snow flakes falling on your head and face, while your body stays warm in the sulphur-smelled water.<br />
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmoOiCsFMaRXyNxdtvSTTcuybZM911XkQx8wNXzG3vCSidzgPbmoxo5AJrDdS6d72WtrFhilBEeCTFR6yv2AxYlONiImsGvx7XMKOI8JG14jo0bNfLD78r6n067dSmVTMUMqGP6pZ9ums/s1600/DSC_0194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmoOiCsFMaRXyNxdtvSTTcuybZM911XkQx8wNXzG3vCSidzgPbmoxo5AJrDdS6d72WtrFhilBEeCTFR6yv2AxYlONiImsGvx7XMKOI8JG14jo0bNfLD78r6n067dSmVTMUMqGP6pZ9ums/s640/DSC_0194.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kushiro Tanchozuru National Park</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB0YNz7R3QNzbNcL00N96_nuZqbetN_1d9SMjwSNkOBnX5XjCXll5b3zvKL5vluVTfFITn2VrNyVhI5REM6joic7Okuy8fmwspB1QQ8-0xtDwv_Ip8vu61jnPbV19O4ua5kW_rOFx5Jc8/s1600/P1050971.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB0YNz7R3QNzbNcL00N96_nuZqbetN_1d9SMjwSNkOBnX5XjCXll5b3zvKL5vluVTfFITn2VrNyVhI5REM6joic7Okuy8fmwspB1QQ8-0xtDwv_Ip8vu61jnPbV19O4ua5kW_rOFx5Jc8/s640/P1050971.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Posing in a Winter Sonata feel.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65ONeQAJ5NWFVaB-ds2VjL4nIkPJARempgaCn-Ho1GKj7E3q1kdUYswdeczbCrSY1DDc-zyOFW_aiKi_Doco5LDAOv2vlRCCPyEyHNYODPWBwrgOs0QhTsWWYq5aHqt5UyhseDYzA4mU/s1600/IMG_20160115_160033_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65ONeQAJ5NWFVaB-ds2VjL4nIkPJARempgaCn-Ho1GKj7E3q1kdUYswdeczbCrSY1DDc-zyOFW_aiKi_Doco5LDAOv2vlRCCPyEyHNYODPWBwrgOs0QhTsWWYq5aHqt5UyhseDYzA4mU/s640/IMG_20160115_160033_HDR.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our room in the <i>ryokan</i>. The futon will be laid by the hotel staff in the evening when we were out for dinner.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-12613945448420192102017-01-11T11:30:00.000+08:002017-01-11T11:30:25.426+08:00Sharing My Itinerary - Hokkaido - Day 2<u>Day 2</u><br />
<br />
<a href="http://h-takarajima.com/search&area1_id=&area2_id=&genre1_id=39&genre2_id=47" target="_blank">Dog Sledding</a>, 32 000 yen for 3 pax and 1 sled. Pick up and drop off at Hoshino Tomamu Resort included. They provided jackets, fleece vests, gloves, and snow boots, as well as a CD with pictures they took of us. Fun and worth it. We almost lost a GoPro for the dogs were too excited at the beginning. We found it back in the snow afterwards.<br />
<br />
Free and easy around Tomamu Resort area. In my case, we went to the <i>onsen</i> (hot spring) to relax. I could understand then why did the Japanese love <i>onsen</i>. Most of the grander <i>onsen</i> are located in the open air. So before you can get in, you need to endure the cold wind blowing against your naked skin. But when you finally submerge yourself into the 40 degrees Celcius water, it is almost heaven. So much so that I didn't want to get up. By the end of the trip I felt the most natural thing to do was to relax in the <i>onsen </i>at least once a day.<br />
<br />
In the evening we boarded the free shuttle bus from resort lobby to Tomamu station.<br />
<br />
Boarded JR train from to Kushiro station with JR 4-day flexi pass.<br />
<br />
Accommodation: Superhotel Kushiro Ekimae, 2700 yen per night per person, for a 3-person-room. Buffet breakfast included.<br />
<br />
Superhotel in my opinion, best value-for-money ever. Price per night per pax is approximately MYR100, breakfast included. Where else could you find a decent hotel with such a price? But then again it was also because Superhotel in Kushiro was cheaper since it was not much of a tourist spot. I did check that Superhotel in other places, for instance Osaka, were much more expensive.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY18oBPqjDZt-sZTUPa6tbAhwQIgR6eVKTHvfaZWzbWhZE7PHwdeW6oy49WrABMRx8zec_bvIw5ATQvyzz63rHPj2XLUOzS0k-CGvVBTTaaim67Y6AlAzhB8nmjid1zUS7xRwvPBUqGkI/s1600/_DSC3039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY18oBPqjDZt-sZTUPa6tbAhwQIgR6eVKTHvfaZWzbWhZE7PHwdeW6oy49WrABMRx8zec_bvIw5ATQvyzz63rHPj2XLUOzS0k-CGvVBTTaaim67Y6AlAzhB8nmjid1zUS7xRwvPBUqGkI/s640/_DSC3039.JPG" width="358" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bonding with the dogs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXmCv9JphhX19_xxDOUpqwRqo1UlGKz0sQ2rKQoOPL6PWYQzRGxv38SNHHcGQhzvWX5_iAne1kYyNgMSOe3mOXjNTKSPIWxh2gyBx5jlsYPM3NJy2GH1clsuTdnbPXr3Ah6jkLLy4p_GM/s1600/_DSC3042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXmCv9JphhX19_xxDOUpqwRqo1UlGKz0sQ2rKQoOPL6PWYQzRGxv38SNHHcGQhzvWX5_iAne1kYyNgMSOe3mOXjNTKSPIWxh2gyBx5jlsYPM3NJy2GH1clsuTdnbPXr3Ah6jkLLy4p_GM/s640/_DSC3042.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was how we looked before the crash.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaaStSdNlKraauBlc3l-p92GzLRbyuH0YrBxr3Gldk_C_eWFkdq56TotvlDWwJWpzi_RZ2Zd7SsRDtT2b79jL_d6JjdPsX-dGhyuB5ooOJpAdQeAjkvwh37GZ-lh1tAKd50EJzX17hwPg/s1600/_DSC3043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaaStSdNlKraauBlc3l-p92GzLRbyuH0YrBxr3Gldk_C_eWFkdq56TotvlDWwJWpzi_RZ2Zd7SsRDtT2b79jL_d6JjdPsX-dGhyuB5ooOJpAdQeAjkvwh37GZ-lh1tAKd50EJzX17hwPg/s640/_DSC3043.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After crashing once.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span id="goog_843063773"></span><span id="goog_843063774"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXkZZ_YZvWQC6fH1RnGQm0XZw4Wp2lsau3THFuYvCVyyh_OVeEXY6uLy0xA3eP0tB7XcCfhy8ZMo-Tf-Vc5lhwQE_-M0OR24W8zyMvUOJ6zdezW_Ti_VWZaaqBCI8rta7C8uZ2CvvaLc/s1600/_DSC3088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXkZZ_YZvWQC6fH1RnGQm0XZw4Wp2lsau3THFuYvCVyyh_OVeEXY6uLy0xA3eP0tB7XcCfhy8ZMo-Tf-Vc5lhwQE_-M0OR24W8zyMvUOJ6zdezW_Ti_VWZaaqBCI8rta7C8uZ2CvvaLc/s640/_DSC3088.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was during the second or third crash.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHNSy4O773Fxc3fSuS7IvxVE1ImpcJI54MjcQkrqnzbiVbLlp7K_fzOOfs_PJkG-gtfUQNOk5pAbBZJqmejJ2a4PPp18lT4hPx3cp5QsXHCqGdSvkjzsMUXNuia7mvx36u61SMG8a4x24/s1600/DSC_0169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHNSy4O773Fxc3fSuS7IvxVE1ImpcJI54MjcQkrqnzbiVbLlp7K_fzOOfs_PJkG-gtfUQNOk5pAbBZJqmejJ2a4PPp18lT4hPx3cp5QsXHCqGdSvkjzsMUXNuia7mvx36u61SMG8a4x24/s640/DSC_0169.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Tomamu station.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipPgSb_wcJ2DZrFnusvakXlXVV3D5WAOhhBLPy4obAhJ6BAmdIIlPMc85ZNDlGgBNbasmuxJ0IzjPeg7-h0eRFmMQljLAt0rfCIg2zBWND2_JZ4c3sl9lo3TsHbrIyzm1B5k-gVwZzaHY/s1600/DSC_0157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipPgSb_wcJ2DZrFnusvakXlXVV3D5WAOhhBLPy4obAhJ6BAmdIIlPMc85ZNDlGgBNbasmuxJ0IzjPeg7-h0eRFmMQljLAt0rfCIg2zBWND2_JZ4c3sl9lo3TsHbrIyzm1B5k-gVwZzaHY/s640/DSC_0157.JPG" width="422" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting for the train.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-7456809464248871902017-01-10T16:48:00.001+08:002017-01-10T16:48:13.275+08:00Sharing My Itinerary - Hokkaido - Day 1I am sharing with you a very detailed itinerary that I planned for Hokkaido, last January. It was winter.<br />
<br />
<u>Day 1</u><br />
<br />
Arrival at Shin-Chitose Airport.<br />
<div>
<ul>
<li>Purchased JR Pass <a href="http://www2.jrhokkaido.co.jp/global/english/railpass/rail01.html" target="_blank">(4-day flexi)</a>, 22,000 yen. The term "flexi" because I could use it to take 4 days of JR, either consecutively or non-consecutively, within 10 days from the date of purchase / collection. In my case, I listed down all the JR train fares for each day that I would be spending, and then I picked the top 4 most expensive days to use the pass.</li>
<li>Purchased Asahiyama Zoo ticket set or 旭山動物園きっぷ, 6130 yen, which included roundtrip JR train ticket from/to Asahikawa station, roundtrip bus ticket between Asahikawa station to the zoo, and the zoo entrance ticket.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
Boarded the JR train from airport to Tomamu station. Since the train ticket for today is not the top 4 most expensive, I bought the ticket separately, 3430 yen.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There were free shuttle buses from Tomamu station to Hoshino Tomamu Resort. It was a ski resort with many other attractions - some sort like Genting Highlands in Malaysia, but better. Note that the restaurants were quite pricey as well.</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Visited Chapel on the Water 水の教会. It was a famous architectural building by Tadao Ando, only opened to visitors for 1 hour starting at 9pm.</li>
<li>Visited Ice Village. </li>
</ul>
<div>
Accommodation: Hoshino Resort Tomamu, 13,000 yen per night per person for a 3-person-room. Buffet breakfast included.</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJMKHpYDzDKq0SFMBEWK_WBdeHcYQah07BwypObwrchLt8mfKcFqhh-yhxDgcG4PPJsF57a7BX4bbEaT014X7jZUboEUqmROwC-YoiMaAUvDL8DrCAtxt7f1xR1U_RNcL9bdgIOb8GEo4/s1600/DSC_0015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJMKHpYDzDKq0SFMBEWK_WBdeHcYQah07BwypObwrchLt8mfKcFqhh-yhxDgcG4PPJsF57a7BX4bbEaT014X7jZUboEUqmROwC-YoiMaAUvDL8DrCAtxt7f1xR1U_RNcL9bdgIOb8GEo4/s640/DSC_0015.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The most spacious room I had ever stayed in Japan but, f***ing expensive!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGYleCfpuzr6yKXcGK2RMBTd2zjZyoba0Q0n5hCT9xBmYfhiCz3MLhqVd7x5e5nySnd60xm8OJbrEIvjw_gdiCD-KLNQNEuzaIzEZu643k0wZNijG9Az-64WTPDjWEqJA0p2zbGmxY_g8/s1600/DSC_0104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGYleCfpuzr6yKXcGK2RMBTd2zjZyoba0Q0n5hCT9xBmYfhiCz3MLhqVd7x5e5nySnd60xm8OJbrEIvjw_gdiCD-KLNQNEuzaIzEZu643k0wZNijG9Az-64WTPDjWEqJA0p2zbGmxY_g8/s640/DSC_0104.JPG" width="422" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the hotel room.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCvRhTfd9dmKc-Dzzn0P_F_c4l943Bazh8vM37K5ceHpocOmGwB6yn7MuFtGJK81lSV6-hL6OKOrEcgmM2-A7U7Y9mA5oe33gvbqkJSBsw-r2Y8qKRDfmlkvtuGAwUwKKFHiV8Gcw-jDg/s1600/DSC_0077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCvRhTfd9dmKc-Dzzn0P_F_c4l943Bazh8vM37K5ceHpocOmGwB6yn7MuFtGJK81lSV6-hL6OKOrEcgmM2-A7U7Y9mA5oe33gvbqkJSBsw-r2Y8qKRDfmlkvtuGAwUwKKFHiV8Gcw-jDg/s640/DSC_0077.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chapel on the Water</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6JgV4R-MK0mF_TAslPSJZTOywYbemNiQdiZ1GQAHn6iyU5cYFYWSAVlrWevP_5uVf47BOrreKtL0-aVntE6DWDcPydZeXpNQJCIaxVLH3o_FXX5L5AkVsHXriLgDo9_h-7L2t882KReA/s1600/DSC_0088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6JgV4R-MK0mF_TAslPSJZTOywYbemNiQdiZ1GQAHn6iyU5cYFYWSAVlrWevP_5uVf47BOrreKtL0-aVntE6DWDcPydZeXpNQJCIaxVLH3o_FXX5L5AkVsHXriLgDo9_h-7L2t882KReA/s640/DSC_0088.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A church in the Ice Village</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-13390319299334945302017-01-09T16:24:00.001+08:002017-01-09T16:25:04.723+08:00Enough is Enough !After the <a href="http://geographicallyblind.blogspot.my/2016/12/i-have-almost-been-scammed.html" target="_blank">previous incident</a>, I had been scammed...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH1pouflDurg5cXZEHDCB-nhEJZ2RKjLWe1uIzsg7iLa2ferhUc4ZVV724HUBKcpQwKhEi0qCl7kbnk1O9pTgVGEJdWFFeVO-MU0AP-zt5vUDrmCin4mngLZA-Tq1PtEeLrx056FuGLmE/s1600/1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH1pouflDurg5cXZEHDCB-nhEJZ2RKjLWe1uIzsg7iLa2ferhUc4ZVV724HUBKcpQwKhEi0qCl7kbnk1O9pTgVGEJdWFFeVO-MU0AP-zt5vUDrmCin4mngLZA-Tq1PtEeLrx056FuGLmE/s640/1.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
...again...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcYUoGxl_NXsgfajgC8v-Paf0wPpo7K5S96tgIJs35gaE0JGIjp5KOqfmOyMECJdqwMndwCp0ehfnWYQQc6FkdiL0Exjk9SoSkupfrXjZhKgxd_DeVOrQA3BbFj8DMn_gcsKZP8VHpbaw/s1600/1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcYUoGxl_NXsgfajgC8v-Paf0wPpo7K5S96tgIJs35gaE0JGIjp5KOqfmOyMECJdqwMndwCp0ehfnWYQQc6FkdiL0Exjk9SoSkupfrXjZhKgxd_DeVOrQA3BbFj8DMn_gcsKZP8VHpbaw/s400/1.png" width="352" /></a></div>
<br />
...again...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio7W5M9HvdGxLmnBq2zgJMrBYQ-LfZdxkZ_Q8VagCQdasCgYKjgPLrOSux7mD8mNFLXczgwsoctmItc8hZy-Pv-gmrUefropNPxVyMGD424YYgPv3PI-i6dOroJwceuPSOQ1Rrnimbo00/s1600/3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="505" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio7W5M9HvdGxLmnBq2zgJMrBYQ-LfZdxkZ_Q8VagCQdasCgYKjgPLrOSux7mD8mNFLXczgwsoctmItc8hZy-Pv-gmrUefropNPxVyMGD424YYgPv3PI-i6dOroJwceuPSOQ1Rrnimbo00/s640/3.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZfBIrr72u8nhtSNmE-GtadyynKEI1S6Ke8RgO7_gJ1d_n-sZA3doVeBkzrjRi4fKSy-1Wgossi04_csyAaVeuhoEJLCIUyc5M3-aEQQ2KOncQnuA5Ze9xEcEK8qX-_7Mo6UvdCYZCQG0/s1600/1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZfBIrr72u8nhtSNmE-GtadyynKEI1S6Ke8RgO7_gJ1d_n-sZA3doVeBkzrjRi4fKSy-1Wgossi04_csyAaVeuhoEJLCIUyc5M3-aEQQ2KOncQnuA5Ze9xEcEK8qX-_7Mo6UvdCYZCQG0/s640/1.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
...and again...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii0HTYI6o2GkYM5LD0pQlrUSJO5xPjPRP8hDrGLlYz_reovCVPfxcfvGsBeNXr1_ZrXOht7x2oSuFRU3rdfzRdmakQeLt_oh4jKJOCBrHMHPTTsX07AqFPW0_Z3jIQeMcvVT3hGlXx_dk/s1600/2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii0HTYI6o2GkYM5LD0pQlrUSJO5xPjPRP8hDrGLlYz_reovCVPfxcfvGsBeNXr1_ZrXOht7x2oSuFRU3rdfzRdmakQeLt_oh4jKJOCBrHMHPTTsX07AqFPW0_Z3jIQeMcvVT3hGlXx_dk/s400/2.png" width="352" /></a></div>
<br />
"Am Autumn Oliver by name"??? Who the hell talks like that??? Did they Google translate Nigerian??? Can't they hire scammers with better English proficiency???<br />
<br />
This was when I said to myself, enough! And I took down the advertisement on <a href="http://www.mudah.my/" target="_blank">Mudah</a> and decided never to post anything on it ever again. Unbelievable number of scammers! Gosh!thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-52796577085912905622017-01-07T18:00:00.000+08:002017-01-07T18:00:58.714+08:00Passenger - Movie Review<span style="color: red;"><b>*SPOILER ALERT*</b></span><br />
<br />
<i>What was it about?</i><br />
<br />
Starring Jennifer Lawrence and Chris Pratt, why was I surprised that it was, indeed, a love story? Well it was a romance packaged as a sci-fi, to be exact.<br />
<br />
The story started with Jim Preston (Chris Pratt) waking up from his hibernation, which was supposed to last 120 years. But due to a malfunction, he woke up 90 years earlier than scheduled. Alone on the unmanned spaceship, his attempts of putting himself back into hibernation failed. After a year of suffering, he then made a difficult decision - he broke another hibernation pot inhabited by Aurora Lane (Jennifer Lawrence), in desperation of company.<br />
<br />
<i>Did it meet my expectations?</i><br />
<br />
For the record, I went into the cinema expecting a sci-fi thriller. Can you blame me or anyone that had watch the trailer? The trailer practically labelled it a sci-fi movie! I'd also like to say that the science of it was not very convincing.<br />
<br />
Jim's space suit sustained the heat vent from the fusion reactor. <i>Seriously?</i><br />
<br />
Jim got thrown out from the vent and was travelling in the backward direction of the spaceship. He was still in vicinity after 5 seconds or so. <i>Wasn't the spaceship travelling at half of light speed?</i><br />
<br />
Jim threw the steel door that he used as shield in the backward direction, causing himself a forward thrust. <i>Erm... I'm not really sure about this but, really?</i><br />
<br />
I also thought the story would open at the point when Aurora woke up. And then she'd meet Jim and at this moment she (as well as the audience) wouldn't know yet, about his intentionally breaking her hibernation pot. As the story moved, she'd discover it from Arthur, and so would the audience. Hence instilling the suspense, the twist, and the flash-back story telling technique.<br />
<br />
But instead the movie chose to do it the opposite way - bringing in the story from Jim's point of view. It probably wanted to portray Jim's stranded situation, his helplessness and desperation, which I thought was very successful.<br />
<br />
<i>Did I like it?</i><br />
<br />
I loved it. Of course I was a little disappointed that the romantic element played a big part of it, instead of the sci-fi element. But the story was very refreshing that I was able to forgive a misleading trailer.thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-72924739016930570322016-12-30T16:12:00.000+08:002016-12-30T16:12:27.466+08:00I have (almost) been scammed!Yes, I have! And I survived to tell the tale...<br />
<br />
<u>The Baiting Stage</u><br />
<br />
Like all scams, it began with greed. I posted an advertisement on <a href="http://www.mudah.my/vi/50945143.htm" target="_blank">Mudah</a> to sell my used camera. The price I fixed was RM600, equivalent to USD133.75. It's amazing such a low price can attract scammers. I'm officially amazed.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I received a WhatsApp message the next day, from a +234 number, a Nigerian country code. If you type "mudah nige" into Google search bar, these are the first things that come up.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFS7fjDMhL6ZqoAiToiwEHwfihnARvNT275aF2EZ0J9EI_A7IJi7AU3hBgUw6Gn7MSQ_N61KDQcNMyreWg-OLnZZAtqjOuox-NLKEYwnpKpUfuVRlR9dyIiObIyq4Ad_nehWuY3mCipfQ/s1600/google.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="124" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFS7fjDMhL6ZqoAiToiwEHwfihnARvNT275aF2EZ0J9EI_A7IJi7AU3hBgUw6Gn7MSQ_N61KDQcNMyreWg-OLnZZAtqjOuox-NLKEYwnpKpUfuVRlR9dyIiObIyq4Ad_nehWuY3mCipfQ/s640/google.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haven't even complete the word "nigerian", Google search bar tells it all.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The seemingly interested buyer, refer henceforth as "the Nigerian", told me he was from UK and wanted to buy the camera for his cousin in Sabah. He asked me to check the postage fee to Sabah, which I did. It was about RM16 via PosLaju.<br />
<br />
Without much questions, the Nigerian asked for my banking details and immediately transferred RM1050 to my account. And all these, were confirmed by his bank, the First Direct Bank. The payable amount was only RM616 including postage, but he paid in excess of RM434. Now, this is the bait.<br />
<br />
<u>The Pre-Scamming Stage</u><br />
<br />
According to the email from First Direct Bank, I needed to provide proof of postage before they would credit the money into my bank account, apparently to avoid money laundering.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrAGHC431s23qxayfiw5X5rDgwsXQ196hBx6q7a8IhTM7LKxYImpVpeZgqoTwyZzDTCl-bnzI3VDnId-4EFQ_LnJ3ZLYEf42z_ImvyXKSWQgWWrxViP2j0GS0QRRNg7LRxI4DwH3QCJ3E/s1600/111.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrAGHC431s23qxayfiw5X5rDgwsXQ196hBx6q7a8IhTM7LKxYImpVpeZgqoTwyZzDTCl-bnzI3VDnId-4EFQ_LnJ3ZLYEf42z_ImvyXKSWQgWWrxViP2j0GS0QRRNg7LRxI4DwH3QCJ3E/s640/111.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First email from the bank. My bank account number is the number of times I died and reincarnated.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I was again amazed by how badly-written and unprofessional the email sounded, not the mention the grammatical errors. Can't I be impressed by a more skilled scammer? How can these scammers survive in such a challenging and harsh environment? How do they even compete with the better scammers?<br />
<br />
So the Nigerian insisted that I post him the camera today, right away. Since I was bored, and have all the time in the world (don't ask why), so I played along.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgktKCJDkJWmV9gxY3-bLQANwsiUVeKwQl_rN0dmPUMkogDLDVrAKiPlYC9D9JyezoeOD49v1N6SYDLP2ergv5iJ58cCc860uluJna9TXXERrOzmQ6bzA-zWGk_Gk8AD_sGEGHwbiIpnx0/s1600/1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="550" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgktKCJDkJWmV9gxY3-bLQANwsiUVeKwQl_rN0dmPUMkogDLDVrAKiPlYC9D9JyezoeOD49v1N6SYDLP2ergv5iJ58cCc860uluJna9TXXERrOzmQ6bzA-zWGk_Gk8AD_sGEGHwbiIpnx0/s640/1.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Conversation with the Nigerian Part 1. The tracking number is a lottery number I trust will be announced this week.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
He then asked for the PosLaju receipt, but of course I didn't have it. I just forged some Maybank2U online payment slip, took a picture and sent to him. It was a photo after all so I guess he couldn't tell that it was a fake. I even forged a PosLaju consignment note (don't ask how) and sent back to his First Direct Bank.<br />
<br />
<u>The Real Scam Stage 1</u><br />
<br />
Now this was when the real thing came. He made a payment in excess of RM400! So, how? He asked me. F***ing call your bank and make changes, I suggested. But the problem was, the bank said no, apparently for security reasons. Wow, such customer service. And such high security.<br />
<br />
Okay fine, I would refund the money <i>after</i> the transaction had been done successfully. Bank said no again, they needed to see the refund before they could credit my account. I repeatedly demanded reasoning behind this, as I wanted to see how clever they could get and what excuses they could come up with to get around with this. But the Nigerian guy kept saying it could not be done, I had to refund the money first etc. He just kept repeating the same thing, like a retard.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigHkCWa2C2TQp3EOi4qiLJGHSNjZD9WmkE9g3_eBeJ8DCThwDibPSY6V521crkjtIwOQFrNhHDPTq4EJhtZVh2GFkx9-WOD9d0P56RMwy4eluPEdXG2TJpB8Dskte2VWW42xABey7fmrI/s1600/1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="558" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigHkCWa2C2TQp3EOi4qiLJGHSNjZD9WmkE9g3_eBeJ8DCThwDibPSY6V521crkjtIwOQFrNhHDPTq4EJhtZVh2GFkx9-WOD9d0P56RMwy4eluPEdXG2TJpB8Dskte2VWW42xABey7fmrI/s640/1.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Conversation with the Nigerian Part 2. He wanted to delay my suspicion before the camera could reach him.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrsh3TpZlIWjTGgLfAdNVUzfTO9KpNJq-lFwEs5C5YiVK4lyM4gMoltNu9X8MNxhrUjl85-IPo6mAQ5YCt4_kU3pamwH_n13xno3eztKI7pu6uNnMjYOD91DX8einHwj62ZZVot_v3zeQ/s1600/2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="558" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrsh3TpZlIWjTGgLfAdNVUzfTO9KpNJq-lFwEs5C5YiVK4lyM4gMoltNu9X8MNxhrUjl85-IPo6mAQ5YCt4_kU3pamwH_n13xno3eztKI7pu6uNnMjYOD91DX8einHwj62ZZVot_v3zeQ/s640/2.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Conversation with the Nigerian Part 3. I made him believe that I will refund RM250 to him.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So I gave him what he wanted. I refunded the money to him. Of course I forged a Maybank2U online transfer slip again, which made me realized how easily it could be done. Something to note for future reference - be it a scam or anything at all.<br />
<br />
<u>The Real Scam Stage 2</u><br />
<br />
So what happens when you successfully cheated someone of RM250? The answer is simple. The more the merrier!<br />
<br />
Of course the amount RM1050 is too little to be transferred. Nobody transfer that kind of money okay. Of course you need a minimum of RM2000. What is anything below RM2000? The bank was very regret to inform me that the transaction had failed, because apparently their valued customer, the Nigerian, had never had a transfer less than MYR2000.00 with them!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSgiy46lpdC3c5Ml51yOCIG2pEN9t4tmmL07_8MsvxEHgqORuOBNoA6LcZ8Y5TrKCWD4yR55d_8cHH6aaq1YFA7kbsbaWDaTJfQkrnb1xmr3wc6AAb8L1A8wkzcGyw0VsyKJwOtmxIcM/s1600/33.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSgiy46lpdC3c5Ml51yOCIG2pEN9t4tmmL07_8MsvxEHgqORuOBNoA6LcZ8Y5TrKCWD4yR55d_8cHH6aaq1YFA7kbsbaWDaTJfQkrnb1xmr3wc6AAb8L1A8wkzcGyw0VsyKJwOtmxIcM/s640/33.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Second email from the bank. Transaction had failed. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Seriously... How can anyone fall for this? And that was not all. In order to be able to transfer the money, he had made an additional transfer of RM950 into my account, so now I had to refund him this very amount as well. It's so fun right! We love transferring money from one to another!<br />
<br />
By that time I was bored beyond hope. These scammers, they are just not creative enough. I felt lazy to entertain the Nigerian anymore so blocked that +234 number on WhatsApp. He then sent another message from another number saying that I was trying to scam him. LOL. Nice try, Nigerian.<br />
<br />
Well that was the end of the scam and yes I had a good laugh. I had two names and a RHB account number, which I thought belong to the scammer, or at least to someone linked to him. I had thought of filing a police report but then, this amateur scammer, why had he <i>not</i> been caught? His skills were stupid and he gave out bank account numbers. Those who got scammed (if any) surely had reported to the police. The only reason he was still out there, either because the PDRM didn't bother, or because he was some insider with PDRM or had linkage with them. If I were to report him, and I had played him that way, would he track me down and come for revenge?<br />
<br />
Anyway, I figured I should still provide the information here, on my blog, for the sake of all mankind. Whether or not I file a report is another story. Without further ado, let me introduce the cast:<br />
Mr. D***head Aizad Razi (it only appeared in emails hence it could be a fake name)<br />
Mr. F***face Mohd Afzan Afiq, owner of RHB account 15211200049444thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-39643386144623907792016-10-02T17:25:00.000+08:002016-10-02T17:26:18.510+08:00Elfen Lied - Anime ReviewAnime has been one of my pastimes during the last few months. I've been watching some famous ones that anime fans would consider classic - Steins;Gate, Puella Madoka Magica, etc. Hours ago I just finished Elfen Lied. When you look for "greatest anime of all time" in YouTube, you almost always get Elfen Lied in the list. I'm not gonna lie - it got my attention due to its gory content.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I would have to say, it didn't live up to my expectations at all.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Well, here is my <span style="color: red;"><b>SPOILER</b></span> review.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<u>The Characters</u></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The first thing I have to say is the characters are freaking flat. None of them is likable. None of them makes me feel emotionally attached to. None of them is really fully developed. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We have Kouta, who had a dark childhood from watching his little sister and father being killed by Lucy / Nyu whom he considered as a friend. We have Lucy / Nyu, who as a child was bullied and betrayed by normal humans. We have Mayu, who was sexually abused by her stepfather. We have Kurama, who lost his newborn and wife, because his newborn was a Diclonius. I'm supposed to sympathize with these characters I guess. But they are so poorly-developed and so lacked of vibe. And the flashbacks didn't help either. At times I felt myself waiting for the emotional touch and it felt like it almost reach me, but then disappeared quickly.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What disturbs me most is, they didn't even try to explain why Lucy / Nyu was having split personality. I mean, she had been living her past few years in a lab facility and then suddenly when she escaped, she had split personality??? That's just too convenient for the plot, which brings me to the next point.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<u>The Plot</u></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The anime opened with intriguing gory scenes of a Diclonius escaping from a experimental lab facility. Then it built up to pre-climax with explanations on events in the past, including the childhood of Lucy / Nyu and how she befriended Kouta. There were little hints at the first few episodes signalling something happened in the past, and then flashbacks towards the ending which supposed to disclose the "twist". Well in short, the big twist was - *drumroll* - that Lucy / Nyu as a child was the killer of Kouta's family. I think this is the most interesting part in the whole of the series.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The gory scenes were, well gory, and that's it. They didn't leave a strong impression on me and neither were they disturbing, particularly #35 (Mariko) who was Kurama's daughter. I felt that more could be done to this character. She was supposedly raised in a lab since she was born and isolated from all other human beings. Her becoming of a blood thirsty killer and her attachment to the idea of Kurama being a father were not well-explained and simply unconvincing.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And what was the experiments conducted in the lab facility anyway? What exactly were they trying to achieve? It didn't seem to be solely for academical purposes. Towards the ending it was shown the director of the lab, Kakuzawa took off his wig and revealed that he, too was a Diclonius. Quite a reveal but I needed to ask - and then what? And in the same scene we saw that Arakawa decided to hide the identity of Kouta, being related to Lucy / Nyu - again, for convenience of the plot.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The character of Bando seemed very redundant as well. He didn't make any significant contributions or advancements to the plot. And the part where Kurama fixed his artificial hand in exchange for him to kill Mariko - first of all, why did he think Bando can kill her when she is so-all-powerful? Second of all, how did he even know Bando would be at the beach? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<u>The Ending</u></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I found myself asking "that's it?" towards the last scene - surprised to find that it concluded with a mere 13 episodes. I've always liked short anime but, this one just left you hanging. Its open ending is the worst in the history of open endings.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The last scene led us to believe that Lucy / Nyu survived and came back to Kouta. If so, how? The organization behind the experimental lab facility appeared to be having quite the influence with the government, the police and the special forces. It couldn't be this simple that they left her alone after all these hard work of capturing her alive. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
All in all, Elfen Lied was a total disappointment and certainly overrated in my opinion.</div>
thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-26142222093259184552016-04-14T20:54:00.001+08:002016-04-14T20:54:11.550+08:00Me Before You - A Book ReviewI had just finished The Witcher 3 (minus the expansions) on PS4 and there was no good free games available for a few months now - damn you Sony. Hence recently I've gone back to reading. It felt like high school again. I used to drive to my friend ST's house to borrow some books during the school holidays. Normally I came back with 5 or 6 and I would stack them neatly on my study table and evaluate which one to start.<br />
<br />
I have no idea why this book in particular could squeeze a review out of me. But here I am, back with a new post on my blog that I have abandoned since... let me check... January 2015! That was more than a year ago! And I should be ashamed that I didn't get to finish what I started. Well, in my own defense I would like to clarify that my blog is not exactly intended for popularity purposes. It's actually like a personal journal which I don't mind letting anyone read. So that means I could just come back and write something whenever I feel like it, and <i>not </i>write anything whenever I don't feel like it, right? Right?<br />
<br />
Okay, back to the review. Before you proceed, I should just warn you (if anyone is reading at all), that this is a <span style="color: red;">SPOILER</span> review of Jojo Moyes' Me Before You. Proceed at your own risk!<br />
<br />
First of all, I think it is quite well-written for a romantic novel and it's so refreshing to the eye. Well maybe it's because I have never been exposed to too many novels of this genre. I distinctly remember reading some during my teens. I remember A Greek God At The Ladies' Club by Jenna McKnight, Message In A Bottle by Nicholas Sparks, and some book which I can't remember by Nora Roberts. That was pretty much it, and they were so bad I needed to drag myself forcefully towards the last page, in between countless eye-rollings and frustrated outbursts. Oh, not forgetting to mention the ever so popular Fifty Shades Of Grey that everyone made a big fuss about. E.L.James had so limited vocabulary that the whole book had repetitive sentence structures and repetitive words. What I'm saying is, I'm pretty happy with Me Before You, given my experience with books of this genre.<br />
<br />
The story was told with Louisa Clark's narration, with a few chapters from different characters point of view. There was one from Camilla Traynor, one from Steven Traynor, then Nathan, and one from Katrina Clark. These chapters, I felt, were entirely unnecessary and pointless. They didn't contribute anything to the whole story. It was as if the author worried that it would be too bland and so she tried adding some salt and pepper. But totally unnecessary.<br />
<br />
I felt a little depressed upon finishing the book. I guess it's because prior to reading Me Before You, I was on Khaled Hosseini's A Thousand Splendid Suns, which is <i>super</i> depressing! That might have affect my mood a little. Well you could probably guess that Me Before You is a sad ending. But as much as I hate it, it actually makes perfect sense to me. I can totally understand why Will Traynor had to do what he did. It's a little selfish, yes. But let's face it, you gotta live (or not live) for yourself. It is an interesting issue to explore - whether it is right to take your own life.<br />
<br />
Finally, here's a trailer to the movie that's coming out in June this year. I don't think I would be able to watch it alone so I guess I would have to drag Feeder into this. Sorry!<br />
<br />
P.S. This is the first time I'm blogging since I bought my Surface Pro 3. And I just gotta say, the keyboard is amazing!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Eh993__rOxA/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Eh993__rOxA?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<br />thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-27165951193999688422015-01-24T11:29:00.000+08:002015-01-24T11:37:34.656+08:00Annapurna Base Camp (ABC) Trek - Day 3The best thing about trekking, is that you get to meet strangers. Along the trek you'd give way to a group of Koreans. Upon saying <i>anyo haseyo</i> you'd get a reply that they were on their way to ABC as well. While waiting for dinner at the dining hall, you'd be placed next to a couple from Germany or Canada. And it always seem natural to start an introduction and get the conversation flowing. Or you'd meet two friendly Chinese-Australian ladies. And the next thing you know, you'd be studying Lonely Planet together and recommending good restaurants in Pokhara.<br />
<br />
I mean, for me that would seldom happen when I travel in the cities or towns. Hence that was like something different.<br />
<br />
Day 3: Dovan - Deurali<br />
<br />
On day 3 the hardship continued. Though the trek was easier compared to the previous two days - less steps / rocks to climb and shorter walking time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-EBwqxyo2dpdogUDmZ1qmpkg9a-pXDvbQwduki50x-imOncC1RE9N8aCJ0UcXnR_a0nGiSiU6OfVBa7UGQgunLoTLF9KxNr3ZDEEg7Mw4fqOQj_gbKWuSnk9-00c6_LGhyphenhyphen00GOJgFa80/s1600/DSC_0973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-EBwqxyo2dpdogUDmZ1qmpkg9a-pXDvbQwduki50x-imOncC1RE9N8aCJ0UcXnR_a0nGiSiU6OfVBa7UGQgunLoTLF9KxNr3ZDEEg7Mw4fqOQj_gbKWuSnk9-00c6_LGhyphenhyphen00GOJgFa80/s1600/DSC_0973.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoF4GGZdjsV8N21STtnwt8W3T5QjqANGYiWeavw6D67pHfATdipqCAqA52YxRI49eoukLYPGBQ9_5qNnvX-h1I1X7bX3ECP-sfkiHAaOf6e35BSwmQthBmjAOS8zHwpGGdDKtuzV66sQA/s1600/DSC_0974.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoF4GGZdjsV8N21STtnwt8W3T5QjqANGYiWeavw6D67pHfATdipqCAqA52YxRI49eoukLYPGBQ9_5qNnvX-h1I1X7bX3ECP-sfkiHAaOf6e35BSwmQthBmjAOS8zHwpGGdDKtuzV66sQA/s1600/DSC_0974.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
And something motivating happened. Living in Malaysia my whole life, I hardly have the chance to experience autumn, let alone winter. So you could imagine our excitement at the first sight of snow.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwsrPFG_yj6YLjJgfhg84Qk0Ts27x5LhfJQG8_fpEO2_HxJKKZh2VzBsAtfj_teJ4yAPp4D2AhBMy9MxKmOIrtn2jR7Tti0gE2WJJoh-WOyFhf-AuVNCX_ztrwL4IblFCuPPAnR9F6Aa4/s1600/DSC_0994.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwsrPFG_yj6YLjJgfhg84Qk0Ts27x5LhfJQG8_fpEO2_HxJKKZh2VzBsAtfj_teJ4yAPp4D2AhBMy9MxKmOIrtn2jR7Tti0gE2WJJoh-WOyFhf-AuVNCX_ztrwL4IblFCuPPAnR9F6Aa4/s1600/DSC_0994.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First sight of snow.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Ekdq7w0Ohi7FYnqDZnJ3Ql5yR_oJsuAuGmmmd4ncDzvJDeEjha0G3vrd1R-irC0EgXmi38dtuF5mksO5PEZfpi1d_1iUBroIa-01QVZSa5ksrquuyHdXtCjWnV6VYjjA-zayU3OjtJQ/s1600/DSC_1015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Ekdq7w0Ohi7FYnqDZnJ3Ql5yR_oJsuAuGmmmd4ncDzvJDeEjha0G3vrd1R-irC0EgXmi38dtuF5mksO5PEZfpi1d_1iUBroIa-01QVZSa5ksrquuyHdXtCjWnV6VYjjA-zayU3OjtJQ/s1600/DSC_1015.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
At about 3pm we had already reached Deurali, the place we would be spending the night in. Perhaps it was not peak season in December, most of Deurali guest houses were closed.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJktB8mSOhBDBSQtqs2g6xoiis7NAYLdxOF2ubcWuloq74PPJDEeoVjssNuUnur91zs82gRxHM1TNg_r6yR1vovZdi2Bf9IsFgHaj062oRR0eCdNaoEBv-2yZ85DlDeFkWEJv9Orn6DFs/s1600/DSC_1018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJktB8mSOhBDBSQtqs2g6xoiis7NAYLdxOF2ubcWuloq74PPJDEeoVjssNuUnur91zs82gRxHM1TNg_r6yR1vovZdi2Bf9IsFgHaj062oRR0eCdNaoEBv-2yZ85DlDeFkWEJv9Orn6DFs/s1600/DSC_1018.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reaching Deurali.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigEzmf0lw8ljYJmdkZ9S_u6tvzIzl-FGels8OYv1w20dw9zR7ibdz0mZYQ9tiCFSxFy-PAxCVCoJtT6IncO9c2ryvwMbZaKvhUNKrCcEU07O2BNWdAq9CikBuble61JrnmVCVhi6yTFmU/s1600/DSC_1045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigEzmf0lw8ljYJmdkZ9S_u6tvzIzl-FGels8OYv1w20dw9zR7ibdz0mZYQ9tiCFSxFy-PAxCVCoJtT6IncO9c2ryvwMbZaKvhUNKrCcEU07O2BNWdAq9CikBuble61JrnmVCVhi6yTFmU/s1600/DSC_1045.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From our guest house overlooking the rest of Deurali. Most of which were closed.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCSvXpS2xHT4qFsNrkarlGiPY3A6j3WaSaEKmBOdvpPJUFtv-XG6rFhfK8dBlMnseKX7OxAJOs9tGT9K2RhPMveo84puIVmxOLDFbWrJ1fwVIMlESZkiEd_baaKd3TROyfXawswjwY9L0/s1600/DSC_1048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCSvXpS2xHT4qFsNrkarlGiPY3A6j3WaSaEKmBOdvpPJUFtv-XG6rFhfK8dBlMnseKX7OxAJOs9tGT9K2RhPMveo84puIVmxOLDFbWrJ1fwVIMlESZkiEd_baaKd3TROyfXawswjwY9L0/s1600/DSC_1048.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We would be staying in Shangri-la Guest House. What luxury!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
That day was an easy day. I remember I still had the energy to laugh along the way and upon reaching. And we had plenty of free time to roam around taking pictures and having snow fights.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1DQFmpdk-b7FXQz1f3tD2EJoMRAJxIIhB_EmjHyo7nbySfnT2iadqeKl8KKWsl11fVS7r9F3S_MXzpoBMcnqeLsg8-VroMBR-3kCKhxNHSm1stZ4C3Nc6CEM6RYTYvqt22OQzk-_B8A/s1600/G0731158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1DQFmpdk-b7FXQz1f3tD2EJoMRAJxIIhB_EmjHyo7nbySfnT2iadqeKl8KKWsl11fVS7r9F3S_MXzpoBMcnqeLsg8-VroMBR-3kCKhxNHSm1stZ4C3Nc6CEM6RYTYvqt22OQzk-_B8A/s1600/G0731158.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the many silly pictures we took.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil55VS7WnUJzywOuAwmII7Nq8e3q5Fq_GH4GRhorbKOZnq5R2K-ahf6AIFv6NO879S-bcgDAA6XePzkgshlI3qOD1oYL3G01Vz1TKcgv0kRMNK4G4mQSxFBff787x1_hD_6N_gdFhZQIQ/s1600/DSC_1072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil55VS7WnUJzywOuAwmII7Nq8e3q5Fq_GH4GRhorbKOZnq5R2K-ahf6AIFv6NO879S-bcgDAA6XePzkgshlI3qOD1oYL3G01Vz1TKcgv0kRMNK4G4mQSxFBff787x1_hD_6N_gdFhZQIQ/s1600/DSC_1072.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">God knows what shit I'd been through for this profile picture.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ADXQr0f29NV4fUCXxazGkAlB0jbgvmbl7X57BNUUXhVAJ4qVQJ6FiQ5nMWCKhKcNSCuws5fsVC_xt9JoFQjc35212TpferjB_JmwUf-ic9ONUtwC0TwOU1lSLrDYK6BbmeGm_iOmlfk/s1600/DSC_1076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ADXQr0f29NV4fUCXxazGkAlB0jbgvmbl7X57BNUUXhVAJ4qVQJ6FiQ5nMWCKhKcNSCuws5fsVC_xt9JoFQjc35212TpferjB_JmwUf-ic9ONUtwC0TwOU1lSLrDYK6BbmeGm_iOmlfk/s1600/DSC_1076.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trio who made it!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
At night, again, the two were getting ready for star-shooting. Come on guys! It became a routine or something?<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2i5q7wQEeGrFpXRmilgmrseC4Rc8Gxd9wkt_kP8q9vpgVjEI3IWwriAf07uzUESKz-zsoZgJU5D7IPPhGk8u3EjKSMqsLktVHMQSBdvfn50SxI9KQWjpFvl8bFqtfD7PgbloBGJgSlis/s1600/DSC_1105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2i5q7wQEeGrFpXRmilgmrseC4Rc8Gxd9wkt_kP8q9vpgVjEI3IWwriAf07uzUESKz-zsoZgJU5D7IPPhGk8u3EjKSMqsLktVHMQSBdvfn50SxI9KQWjpFvl8bFqtfD7PgbloBGJgSlis/s1600/DSC_1105.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ninjas at night.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-91703195539155546452015-01-01T08:00:00.000+08:002015-01-01T08:00:10.563+08:00Annapurna Base Camp (ABC) Trek - Day 2Day 2: Chommrong - Dovan<br />
<br />
The trek was shorter than Day 1, but it was more difficult. We needed to pass by Bamboo to get to Dovan. Bamboo was a valley thus it meant downhill trek and then uphill climb.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
According to the itinerary, we were supposed to trek downhill for 30 minutes, and then uphill for 1 hour to Lower Sinuwa. And continue uphill to Upper Sinuwa for 1 hour, and another 1 hour downhill to Bamboo. Then 2 hours of uphill climb to Dovan. I didn't have the energy to keep track on the time. But overall, I kind of made it with 30 minutes (I think) behind schedule.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzfSFA8GLSayzvMKF94jhJlU7W3ovUidIib502cgRiRhM94axrn69hVUUls-E2S0073KGeaKy3pHA8c1w0BMZN-YQNxID53l4G3_WTsB2hy8VZQMzVQvg0w6fsNmiH3G9Rf6eEN5XST3k/s1600/DSC_0868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzfSFA8GLSayzvMKF94jhJlU7W3ovUidIib502cgRiRhM94axrn69hVUUls-E2S0073KGeaKy3pHA8c1w0BMZN-YQNxID53l4G3_WTsB2hy8VZQMzVQvg0w6fsNmiH3G9Rf6eEN5XST3k/s1600/DSC_0868.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just only left Chommrong. Downhill trek.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
When crossing the steel bridge, a herd of donkeys were coming from the other side. I was actually brushing past the donkeys and they were like recklessly hitting me with their heads or bodies. It was a cute experience. ;)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvN54XciUTNjqvYZJj5Z9csUhgkCAmeT8k1MDshbM74UaaAbXI-z7qCRwSE7nHTZogqQ1UsI4OrTB27xNVIgHeoVmR2gSpxRGvxgyTNhY_OX3nj8O-3WGhMEDAdrfdyoYiN827LFjt7gw/s1600/DSC_0870.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvN54XciUTNjqvYZJj5Z9csUhgkCAmeT8k1MDshbM74UaaAbXI-z7qCRwSE7nHTZogqQ1UsI4OrTB27xNVIgHeoVmR2gSpxRGvxgyTNhY_OX3nj8O-3WGhMEDAdrfdyoYiN827LFjt7gw/s1600/DSC_0870.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing a steel bridge.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi8m8OsGMY9HSSfeh9ENER1n43N65lkaE_jqs1uE4gvJ2NOR1joqK7qU6hNptOhZVPNev_OdGJdyc3DKynftp-gMOZ5hOpbNWMyVCbE7JKrWQJVzH6cGCW0xq3_Hoy1nHm2oUAVLgqfU0/s1600/DSC_0873.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi8m8OsGMY9HSSfeh9ENER1n43N65lkaE_jqs1uE4gvJ2NOR1joqK7qU6hNptOhZVPNev_OdGJdyc3DKynftp-gMOZ5hOpbNWMyVCbE7JKrWQJVzH6cGCW0xq3_Hoy1nHm2oUAVLgqfU0/s1600/DSC_0873.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the distance between Chommrong and Sinuwa. Basically these two places were located at different mountains!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZndfpwznNYQz3g2eYGdjLelNzSMcYNFhuRkwmkpoyOSIyhZNPzkLfqKgFqQLQYtgFinvc3mk9Py8Oxt9Xu1oQbRRtgp1K-zWx8H5jIGQ6wjy4uzDj10LtTB21-UUHgY7oQuju9YlT2uU/s1600/DSC_0875.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZndfpwznNYQz3g2eYGdjLelNzSMcYNFhuRkwmkpoyOSIyhZNPzkLfqKgFqQLQYtgFinvc3mk9Py8Oxt9Xu1oQbRRtgp1K-zWx8H5jIGQ6wjy4uzDj10LtTB21-UUHgY7oQuju9YlT2uU/s1600/DSC_0875.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Passing by Sinuwa.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfWFYZn9_w8T7T0aeWhP3vJLeYGNtNLlSSJKRlUvWi8Y4H2Rnqav73fiuauuaIexK1dW2JY1Xp5_PVybrmCNogE_JCjZ2Rt11z2jd80wVyAqsEEXgaN5htUwT1qz0_YUA5xAQEt6TaZss/s1600/DSC_0878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfWFYZn9_w8T7T0aeWhP3vJLeYGNtNLlSSJKRlUvWi8Y4H2Rnqav73fiuauuaIexK1dW2JY1Xp5_PVybrmCNogE_JCjZ2Rt11z2jd80wVyAqsEEXgaN5htUwT1qz0_YUA5xAQEt6TaZss/s1600/DSC_0878.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stopping to catch breath.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaF56P5OluYpPwKVWT1RXzDtuDt6MzMg1lIrmrYXMT-jN_mKZHKsTq4u9Y8V5I2UsedemV60o30eJC8bL9sZl99PhOne-kM81FysqcDu7SdAbxJqFcF3YhsWb7M0rC9EUj3GrJmcB_PO8/s1600/DSC_0879.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaF56P5OluYpPwKVWT1RXzDtuDt6MzMg1lIrmrYXMT-jN_mKZHKsTq4u9Y8V5I2UsedemV60o30eJC8bL9sZl99PhOne-kM81FysqcDu7SdAbxJqFcF3YhsWb7M0rC9EUj3GrJmcB_PO8/s1600/DSC_0879.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Couldn't... go... on...</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We stopped for lunch in Bamboo and there was a weighing spring that we excitedly tried out. Feeder's bag was 13 kg, including the camera. Mine was only 4 kg. Due to my incapability Feeder had to put more load in his bag than expected. KC's was 7 kg and the porter's was 20 kg including his own belongings.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuFxzdnPylnapR5E-uZY0MaloJAFMmFgIYmpbz-47wF7B4PUVQJjFhdZoFg7bx5gC6SGLx7HtcgtB5cz4pQ6Mv1hfl1IKqxCWILiq7fgMqpS-10GvlVezf4_JOeS5l_uMx0qKhLijVsE8/s1600/DSC_0898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuFxzdnPylnapR5E-uZY0MaloJAFMmFgIYmpbz-47wF7B4PUVQJjFhdZoFg7bx5gC6SGLx7HtcgtB5cz4pQ6Mv1hfl1IKqxCWILiq7fgMqpS-10GvlVezf4_JOeS5l_uMx0qKhLijVsE8/s1600/DSC_0898.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The load of Feeder's bag. Plus the camera would be approximately 13 kg.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAWZwqfirZPoKSt6nStO8XloE3eI_Um1m_qUAYmsBySAm7LqsA8v9CgyjPDynKIPrNCH9hsvTr706gCN2X8z_i4hoXiEFI7CHL5A16c1LjvIkZMwcfIcBzYrQNayw1w2-YZa1iMOSoaO4/s1600/DSC_0901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAWZwqfirZPoKSt6nStO8XloE3eI_Um1m_qUAYmsBySAm7LqsA8v9CgyjPDynKIPrNCH9hsvTr706gCN2X8z_i4hoXiEFI7CHL5A16c1LjvIkZMwcfIcBzYrQNayw1w2-YZa1iMOSoaO4/s1600/DSC_0901.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eating fried rice in Bamboo.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4AiVsuXHxwu8yxHkTB5WqtVgBnoJx5r0ngtpLhC7TOa_-I_PD-Z99JAbDD6nhBe1-iKc5JNorDUrgX-qAD15zSHv_viVLrOLkI2IItPXAY6M4jSTlu9cXoYUqg-dh1OOAhUzFHU6sFu8/s1600/DSC_0913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4AiVsuXHxwu8yxHkTB5WqtVgBnoJx5r0ngtpLhC7TOa_-I_PD-Z99JAbDD6nhBe1-iKc5JNorDUrgX-qAD15zSHv_viVLrOLkI2IItPXAY6M4jSTlu9cXoYUqg-dh1OOAhUzFHU6sFu8/s1600/DSC_0913.JPG" height="640" width="422" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Upon reaching Dovan. Me - half dead. KC and Feeder - chilling.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
There was still sunlight when we reached Dovan so I decided I could still afford to "wash up", while KC warmed my jacket.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipdPNQDuwuENSnLenfd9egp16JY4m6KgXLDweJAxLMYQF7RGRZr9zIJ66L66YmVHhsS6GpmJZS9BmGKfuD7bt6i3xfaHkPrdD7DXiAqfMMb6_yXkvBoBcZmse3LHDm0BOHIRrWe2d10Bo/s1600/DSC_0927.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipdPNQDuwuENSnLenfd9egp16JY4m6KgXLDweJAxLMYQF7RGRZr9zIJ66L66YmVHhsS6GpmJZS9BmGKfuD7bt6i3xfaHkPrdD7DXiAqfMMb6_yXkvBoBcZmse3LHDm0BOHIRrWe2d10Bo/s1600/DSC_0927.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">KC was warming my jacket as instructed by Feeder. ;)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
That night Feeder had an idea. We bought 2 bottles of hot water to put near to our feet, inside the sleeping bags. I slept soundly that night, while Feeder and KC went star-gazing, dressed like ninjas.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJexxl0NxphxeiC1w62pMJqd6MNkEDr46mozA-ag-fti4JVY1kRZU0rV02xqzwzYfEYM7U4woKR9ZQdgYaBZndjzZ20fpkPX61DW68s8CifNF1tlsiWI2sr0KhZyHICS4_IecsgLYH4U/s1600/DSC_0938.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJexxl0NxphxeiC1w62pMJqd6MNkEDr46mozA-ag-fti4JVY1kRZU0rV02xqzwzYfEYM7U4woKR9ZQdgYaBZndjzZ20fpkPX61DW68s8CifNF1tlsiWI2sr0KhZyHICS4_IecsgLYH4U/s1600/DSC_0938.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turning into a cocoon every night in order to survive.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWSNHVWEBvEBS0h1ILBXwsies-QOFOcdYmHji2EeVlVwdwLk9QvOlf49jZLesoKPyH1QU7p7oFLSSwpqlCHLylJ3bdJnkAZuHM-MTCk9pNQ_O_1vrm36e5MSG7_t8skinNi0YLB4ey-g/s1600/DSC_0972.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWSNHVWEBvEBS0h1ILBXwsies-QOFOcdYmHji2EeVlVwdwLk9QvOlf49jZLesoKPyH1QU7p7oFLSSwpqlCHLylJ3bdJnkAZuHM-MTCk9pNQ_O_1vrm36e5MSG7_t8skinNi0YLB4ey-g/s1600/DSC_0972.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Star-gazing in Dovan.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdTksX7xvscZxKj8-5I5d4YgrBF1kWcNbPviIyLKsiIDiM8w_7Rc_dEEUmLcQtuInCpyh2DXiL2KzjPBU4xAaZTeKi13nIZwyJSK_6nSZQw7Quh2C5hTgoG0BzSx58yiWG1iAi-9hJ88/s1600/DSC_0965.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdTksX7xvscZxKj8-5I5d4YgrBF1kWcNbPviIyLKsiIDiM8w_7Rc_dEEUmLcQtuInCpyh2DXiL2KzjPBU4xAaZTeKi13nIZwyJSK_6nSZQw7Quh2C5hTgoG0BzSx58yiWG1iAi-9hJ88/s1600/DSC_0965.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdLC2MIQsHcWi3kydFl8zQtXwEjcEOQEVWmQ9j9tT6MZi-JEccO6bt_o227NwSNaiEC8NFYAXTk97KZlXrb42DWv1ksUAnyag0X2bwPAnnTJL9YBwpsknrczfGT2gq5iC0bfURKPmrcOY/s1600/DSC_0967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdLC2MIQsHcWi3kydFl8zQtXwEjcEOQEVWmQ9j9tT6MZi-JEccO6bt_o227NwSNaiEC8NFYAXTk97KZlXrb42DWv1ksUAnyag0X2bwPAnnTJL9YBwpsknrczfGT2gq5iC0bfURKPmrcOY/s1600/DSC_0967.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-58496697665445687002014-12-31T18:39:00.002+08:002014-12-31T18:39:50.692+08:00Annapurna Base Camp (ABC) Trek - Day 1God knows why and how did I agree to go trekking with Feeder. I mean, <i>seriously</i> what was I thinking? Trekking, of all activities, is something I would never, in a million years, do. When I think back on the hardship, it still gives me the shivers. Everyday we walked 5 to 7 hours, depending on the schedule and our speed. Every night we slept in heater-less rooms with temperature as cold as -13°C on the outside of the concrete walls. It required courage to perform simple tasks like showering, brushing our teeth or going to the toilet. The mere thought of having to touch the icy cold water or taking off our clothes scared us. So I didn't shower for 7 days, wore the same clothes and only changed my socks once.<br />
<br />
Day 1: Kyume - Chommrong<br />
<br />
We started the trek at about 11am from Kyume, as far as the 4-wheel-drive could take us - basically to the end of the road. It was pretty easy at the beginning with mostly flat treks, through some greenery, wooden and steel bridges. But after few hours of non-stop walking, I felt exhausted already. The guide, who looked at me worriedly, said that this part was the easiest of the trek and the real hard work had yet to start.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguBjnWmjSrm43VXW9uhYTSBLuADX4tH5oOuVoEuTGm-i-9G8XcddlKIzXme01zEozLx0FrlizrLM7ZnUxiki5RGHnrBV9utktkB3Ey4AIPKCdlLsmLrf6CNnddvP9k3XtxD-zibKDCZqE/s1600/DSC_0791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguBjnWmjSrm43VXW9uhYTSBLuADX4tH5oOuVoEuTGm-i-9G8XcddlKIzXme01zEozLx0FrlizrLM7ZnUxiki5RGHnrBV9utktkB3Ey4AIPKCdlLsmLrf6CNnddvP9k3XtxD-zibKDCZqE/s1600/DSC_0791.JPG" height="420" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Passing by residential area on the way.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjImdI8x85d3kC_c7QWpn7n6WT2N8U4PyX5r645lhULzbL8jjtoDGeAxbpAg0C3LUF3PK8ivK-OF8aUkt7pDFBZDIellag6LacP_BdYGZPEcq-iTHw8otyOG57-fjySW-XXLVYtU5UO758/s1600/DSC_0799.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjImdI8x85d3kC_c7QWpn7n6WT2N8U4PyX5r645lhULzbL8jjtoDGeAxbpAg0C3LUF3PK8ivK-OF8aUkt7pDFBZDIellag6LacP_BdYGZPEcq-iTHw8otyOG57-fjySW-XXLVYtU5UO758/s1600/DSC_0799.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing a river.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Towards the end I was breathless from the uphill climb and the long hours of walk. I only allowed myself to look at the ground 30 cm in front of my feet. I was afraid that if I looked further, I would lose all will to go on. Feeder and the guide walked behind me, KC and the porter were already 15 or 30 minutes in front of us.<br />
<br />
"If she can't continue, she can wait for us in Dovan or Deurali. We can go to ABC and come down and go back together," I heard the guide telling Feeder.<br />
<br />
I am not going to make it, I thought.<br />
<br />
We reached Chommrong at 6:30pm, half-dead.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfvtug56QVsugmgPIuhEvJMek1KIqtVvTKX-EyENamT9Y_7qvHPOq6izmMfVd5eZJF-cnQfj_Th5Y5YcrrDUNGZ9eootZ_HSJLjWsB9LpuUYpjMNo2cZxo5B3ZXU3-YKzRdqS54K7tAI/s1600/DSC_0823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfvtug56QVsugmgPIuhEvJMek1KIqtVvTKX-EyENamT9Y_7qvHPOq6izmMfVd5eZJF-cnQfj_Th5Y5YcrrDUNGZ9eootZ_HSJLjWsB9LpuUYpjMNo2cZxo5B3ZXU3-YKzRdqS54K7tAI/s1600/DSC_0823.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view of Annapurna and Fish Tail from Chommrong. The snowy mountains still seemed far from our reach.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
On the mountains we needed to pay to get hot shower, hot water and to be able to sit by the heater. There was no heater in the room. Hence the only source of warmth was from dinner, and my own body heat. I wrapped myself with a Uniqlo heat tech, a long sleeve cotton shirt, a fleece jacket, a Uniqlo ultra light sleeveless down jacket, Nike winter jacket, and a red brand-less down jacket I bought from Kathmandu. Not mentioning a pair of fleece pants and trekking pants from Uniqlo, a knitted cap and a pair of wind / water proof gloves. (I can't believe I need a whole paragraph to list down my clothing.) Well, the result was my transformation into a ball.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj58CHgZCwp4mZv-GLcQN1dC0JVgTaXZmUlQHLH1-y2EmwB0JgTmYBwH4m878VHvS4zUGlmgcGBoXufAynA6zXBQbjRo0GywL-Imqn8n1bTu59SrTRJjZT8Ux-oRVhAYKrtFzTwdHVKtB4/s1600/DSC_1101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj58CHgZCwp4mZv-GLcQN1dC0JVgTaXZmUlQHLH1-y2EmwB0JgTmYBwH4m878VHvS4zUGlmgcGBoXufAynA6zXBQbjRo0GywL-Imqn8n1bTu59SrTRJjZT8Ux-oRVhAYKrtFzTwdHVKtB4/s1600/DSC_1101.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A big red ball.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The first night was quite depressing for me. I woke up in the middle of my sleep from the cold. Feeder had just gone back from star-gazing. I cried and told him I was cold despite being in the sleeping bag and the blanket. My feet felt as if they were stored in the refrigerator. But there was nothing we could do and I dozed off.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHrFZRnfTbh2uSd9f7y3xEta2BYurOT4zmJgfXlNyRJC3RAfnJJlL_DnXli9zKkytKuW5ouU5WsaIqA3MkuFRvLsvfgflyIFYNCW3Na0WLSOoSsf0L3sZ0U7f7Ks9iDUfXC5eV9kqGam8/s1600/DSC_0833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHrFZRnfTbh2uSd9f7y3xEta2BYurOT4zmJgfXlNyRJC3RAfnJJlL_DnXli9zKkytKuW5ouU5WsaIqA3MkuFRvLsvfgflyIFYNCW3Na0WLSOoSsf0L3sZ0U7f7Ks9iDUfXC5eV9kqGam8/s1600/DSC_0833.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feeder's star-gazing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The next day, we continued to walk...thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-39441110252691066522014-07-03T21:31:00.000+08:002014-07-03T21:31:53.965+08:00Open Water Diving Course - How to Assemble the EquipmentLike I said, Feeder and I went for our PADI license in Lang Tengah few weeks ago. It was a four-day theory and practical lessons. Since we do not dive like once a month - in fact, hardly once a year - I thought I'd prepare some notes (before I forget) about things that I've learnt during the four-day-course. So that I can revisit those skills before my next dive. *wink*<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/aJKCH1ugMpI" width="640"></iframe>
<br />
<br />
Refer to above video from YouTube.<br />
<br />
Step 1: Slide the BCD (buoyancy control device) into the oxygen tank from the top. Make sure the O-ring on the tank is facing the BCD.<br />
<br />
Step 2: Use one hand to hold the BCD in place, the other tighten the belt. Make sure the O-ring is just above the level of the BCD neck area. If the position of the tank is too high, it may knock the back of your head. Try lifting and shaking the BCD to check if the tank is properly secured.<br />
<br />
Step 3: Align the O-ring with the first stage opening. When properly positioned, tighten the yoke screw with three fingers. This is to keep you from over-tightening the screw. Check that the BCD hose and the pressure gauge is positioned on your left, the second stage and the alternate air source on your right.<br />
<br />
Step 4: Attach the BCD hose to the BCD inflator. You should be able to hear a click when it's properly connected.<br />
<br />
Step 5: While turning on the air valve, place the pressure gauge face down or away from you. This is to avoid injury in case the glass burst due to leakage (highly unlikely). Turn the valve slowly at first. When it is pressurized, turn it fully open, and then close it by turning it one time, using three fingers.<br />
<br />
Step 6: Check the pressure gauge. It should read about 200 barg. Test the regulator by pressing the purge button. Inflate the BCD by pressing the red button on the low pressure inflator and then release the air.<br />
Note: During diving, low on air is considered at 50 barg or lower.thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-49692752403644184302014-06-25T21:34:00.001+08:002014-06-25T21:34:50.406+08:00the geographically blind - living up to my standards<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So Feeder and I were at the Subang Airport, checking in our luggage for a flight to the east coast (for open water diving course).</span><div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Me : I would like to check in our luggage.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Firefly ground staff : Flying to?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />Me : (mind went blank for two seconds) ...</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> (looked for the destination on the printed flight itinerary) ...</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> (and failed to locate it) Kelantan...</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Feeder : What? No, we're flying to Kuala Terengganu.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Me : (still reading the flight itinerary) ...</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> (and found it) Oh yes!</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Staff : ... (proceeded with check in procedure)</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Me : (to Feeder) Are you sure we are flying to Kuala Terengganu?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> What if the hotel staff pick us up in Kota Bharu airport?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Feeder : I am sure.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Me : But last time we went to Lang Tengah, we took the boat from Kelantan.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Feeder : No, we didn't! We went to Terengganu!</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In the end the hotel staff picked us up in the Kuala Terengganu airport. And we got our diving license.</span></div>
thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-5515176014430848592014-06-15T14:43:00.000+08:002014-06-15T15:19:04.618+08:00How did I survive Paris - the people and their language<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">All my life I have been fascinated by the idea of staying in a foreign country and experience their culture. I guess I was granted this opportunity last August. I had been sent to Paris, France for a 3-month-assignment.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The biggest challenge I found was understanding the people, and making them understand me - obviously not all of them could speak English.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The most important phrase, to me, is not "<i>bonjour</i>" or "<i>merci</i>". Nor it is "<i>bonne soirée</i>", that is my favourite word instead - something I muttered everyday when it is time to be released from the office. The most important phrase - so important that it involves the matter of life and death - is, "<i>beaucoup sauce s'il vous pla<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 16.799999237060547px;">î</span>t</i>". That was something I had to say everyday during lunch in the office canteen.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My colleagues who worked in the same project are very nice and friendly people. Some are Venezuelan. One of them told me she had been working in Paris for 6 - 7 years and married to a Parisian. Like me, she was really excited when she first started working in Paris. And traveled almost every weekend. So she could totally understand how I felt - wanting to see and experience as much as possible.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">However some Parisian can be really "unbelievable". My first culture shock was on the first day that I arrived to the office. At the lobby we were registered as visitors with a temporary access card, and were told to obtain a permanent one from the administration department. So we took the elevator to the administration floor and apparently we were not able to access the secured gate with our temporary card. We knocked on the glass door to attract the attention of a lady (obviously French) sitting near the entrance. With sign language we tried to tell her we couldn't enter and would she please open the door for us. Perhaps it wasn't obvious to her that three foreign, yellow-skin noobs were seeking help - she took one look at us and continued to her business. I watched in disbelief as she went on typing on her keyboard. My two other colleagues gave me the get-used-to-it-if-you-want-to-survive look (it wasn't their first time in Paris), and turned to the other entrance.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At the other entrance, we did the same trick and this time it worked. The plump lady (also obviously French) let us in. I gratefully thought the world is still beautiful after all. We said thank you and this was what she replied us:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"No English, please!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When I told my friends this story, CA suggested that I speak Bahasa Melayu to her. And she'd be too frustrated and switched to English herself. But Feeder said given his experience in France, she'd just ignore me. I couldn't agree more.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Had I been treated like this the whole time in Paris? Of course not. Like any other places, there were both good and bad people. The universe always had to keep its balance, didn't it? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So Feeder and I were near to the Palais Garnier, trying to find our way to Galeries Lafayette. We knew Paris was not a safe place. Hence even when studying the map we were keeping a lookout. Two ladies approached us, told us in English that a few pickpockets were right behind them, about to reach. They only target tourists and obviously we looked like one. They would come ask for donation with a piece of paper appearing to be list of donors as distractions. Do not talk to them - just wave our hands and get them going. We thanked the kind ladies for their warning and was being even more cautious. A minute later a <strike>cute guy</strike> nice gentleman in suit and tie approached us with the same warning. Wow! Two good deeds in a row! I was rather surprised.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUmXMl_KEacQ3dgRWO9qA1EaP__jL4LdJ6gRKqZNMxEtZZ1ilBfNhvfDAKaYCLjgC-djbjbAvH2L3BNqVUtl5QwGmjKDUPlOxIMrrwVbOmqhB1tRo1IKoBHSKWNtnjBQ2fJ7V5PGnUIbI/s1600/P1010687.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUmXMl_KEacQ3dgRWO9qA1EaP__jL4LdJ6gRKqZNMxEtZZ1ilBfNhvfDAKaYCLjgC-djbjbAvH2L3BNqVUtl5QwGmjKDUPlOxIMrrwVbOmqhB1tRo1IKoBHSKWNtnjBQ2fJ7V5PGnUIbI/s1600/P1010687.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside of Palais Garnier.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Another time we were in Dinan, an outskirt town 400 km away from Paris. Again I was studying the map (that's what tourists do). A lady came pointed at the map and said "<i>Vous êtes ici</i>", to which I replied "<i>Merci</i>".</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjosU2Zo1Dp0lnNiTxlfRE95DttAyiwZDu65xb3XCfflViKBFUjltJeFQfPgnHHIJKrQILZuw6a6kaOyoAhJ0wTW2qkSAQQKnyQKUvElwOrMrdYGWql5CbphNKe-f_EJ2w7Ujxht97TJG4/s1600/P1000798.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjosU2Zo1Dp0lnNiTxlfRE95DttAyiwZDu65xb3XCfflViKBFUjltJeFQfPgnHHIJKrQILZuw6a6kaOyoAhJ0wTW2qkSAQQKnyQKUvElwOrMrdYGWql5CbphNKe-f_EJ2w7Ujxht97TJG4/s1600/P1000798.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The old medieval town of Dinan.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A similar experience when Nicole and I were looking for the China Town near Place d'Italie (we were craving for <i>char siew </i>and roasted pork). A <strike>guy who looked like a gangster</strike> gentleman came throwing us sentences in French, which I could catch only one word - "<i>adresse</i>". Obviously he was asking us if we had the address so he could point us the right direction. He performed sign language when I said "China town". Another good deed gratefully accepted.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So, did I enjoy Paris? Yes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Am I willing to stay there again given the chance? Yes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Am I willing to stay there for long term (more than a year)? No.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I guess Paris did not live up to my expectations. It was not a city of romance, no! There were always people kissing and making out on the street but city of romance? Definitely not what I had in mind. At least I didn't feel anything when I was travelling with Feeder.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Paris. Is. Overrated.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It's not very convenient when you can't speak French. And the people, no offence but they're not very... patient and considerate. And the weather, towards the end and beginning of the year, was getting freezing cold.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I guess I can give a lot of excuses for not wanting a long stay in Paris. But then it all comes down to one reason.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Do I love Paris? No.</span>thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-9834108634488044872014-06-09T20:59:00.000+08:002014-06-14T09:32:17.363+08:00DO NOT HIRE DANIELLE CARSON THE HAIR STYLIST IN PARISLast August, I was sent to Paris for a 3 months short-term assignment, together with a few of my colleagues. Seizing this opportunity, I asked my colleague, a semi-pro photographer, to help with my pre-wedding photo shoots.<br />
<br />
Feeder was going to travel to Paris, bringing the wedding gown which I have booked from Malaysia. I would need to hire a make-up artist and a hair stylist in Paris. With the help of Google I settled with <a href="http://www.charlesgillman.com/home/4576123576" target="_blank">Charles Gillman</a>. He had good testimonials, experienced with Asian facial features, responsive in emails, reasonably priced (85 euro for photoshoot), and most importantly, he could speak English.<br />
<br />
In o<span style="font-family: inherit;">ur email correspondence I asked for reference of a hair stylist and he introduced me to one whom he always worked with. Her na</span>me was <span style="color: red;"><b>Danielle Carson</b></span>, charging at 80 euro. I paid Charles the deposit, confirmed the appointment, and scheduled for them to arrive at my hotel at 6:30 am.<br />
<br />
Therefore I had all the items on my list checked, or so I thought.<br />
<br />
On the day of the photoshoot, at 6:30 am I checked my email, and saw this:<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">From: Danielle Carson <<a href="mailto:danfrancar@gmail.com">danfrancar@gmail.com></a><br />To: shinloo <<a href="mailto:shinloo@yahoo.com">shinloo@yahoo.com></a><br />Cc: <a href="mailto:charlesgillman@charlesgillman.com">charlesgillman@charlesgillman.com</a><br />Sent: Sep 28, 2013 1:08:21 AM</span><br />
<div>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Dear Shinloo,<br /><br />How are you? I hope you read this e mail in time, I am right in the middle of fashion week and I had a show booked on the day of your shoot at 10 am. Unfortunately they changed the call time to 6 am just today. I am just e mailing you now because I just got in from doing three shows and haven't had a second to stop all day and they just informed us a couple hours ago. <br /><br />What I can propose is I can do your hair for you at 5 am today, if you read this in time, but unfortunately it's impossible to cancel the show.<br /><br />I'm really really sorry this has never happened before I will happily try and accommodate you at 5AM and I tried calling other hairdressers I know but unfortunately it's too last minute. <br /><br />I hope we can figure something out in time,<br /><br />Again I am so sorry,<br /><br />Danielle Carson</span><br />
<div id="yiv2886808060">
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1402313764314_6770">
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1402313764314_6769">
<br />
I stared at it for 2 minutes. Re-read and re-read. The email was sent 5 hours before our appointment. I almost cried. What could I do without a hair stylist?</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1402313764314_6769">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1402313764314_6769">
Then I started calling Charles, who told me he went to the wrong hotel branch. He was supposed to come to Residhome Hotel in La Defense, but instead he went to another branch in God-knows-where. But fear not, as he was on his way. He said he couldn't get in touch with Danielle and then I told him about Danielle's email.</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1402313764314_6769">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1402313764314_6769">
At about 7:30 am he arrived. We wasted some time to discuss whether or not to go on with the photoshoot. And then we decided to get the make-up done first and think of the hair later. Charles was nice and helpful. He tried to search for a salon nearby that I could go to. And he kept apologizing on Danielle's behalf.</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1402313764314_6769">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2CLfM_aDbPCtqCM5PlH3vEYkq5dKaVPQhyphenhyphenJCJ8t_Vivk2h9KU4nJsA8w12e7sLHBZ_9scFzzDynSf195gRJ74mkO1F_YpUaz100jZpXCx6fckruRtvzUZ2lYphyqk8e2hnuJ0hg3CR64/s1600/prewedding_56257.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2CLfM_aDbPCtqCM5PlH3vEYkq5dKaVPQhyphenhyphenJCJ8t_Vivk2h9KU4nJsA8w12e7sLHBZ_9scFzzDynSf195gRJ74mkO1F_YpUaz100jZpXCx6fckruRtvzUZ2lYphyqk8e2hnuJ0hg3CR64/s1600/prewedding_56257.jpg" height="425" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charles working his magic hands on me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1402313764314_6769">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1402313764314_6769">
After Charles left, my colleagues and I spent some time having brain storming session on what to do with my hair. Couldn't have done it without them. =)</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1402313764314_6769">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUVRqGqjSHPT8bWUB8oeZ9V2jTw4RjwgdeCMJ46jKszLAaBRcu9AJp5noGts7X6FwznWJ2WEpUHw3ImgiQFLRBY82_4GNRRQ5I7B1yracPV1qhMRWrL6Q-lNMBDLUUnrPcSiIg3BCCsU/s1600/prewedding_56289.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUVRqGqjSHPT8bWUB8oeZ9V2jTw4RjwgdeCMJ46jKszLAaBRcu9AJp5noGts7X6FwznWJ2WEpUHw3ImgiQFLRBY82_4GNRRQ5I7B1yracPV1qhMRWrL6Q-lNMBDLUUnrPcSiIg3BCCsU/s1600/prewedding_56289.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From left - Nicole, Chloe and SeeYee. Me sitting in the middle.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1402313764314_6769">
</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1402313764314_6769">
<br />
In the end I still decided to leave it to the professional since the salon nearby was already open for business, which, as far as I know, was very unusual in France. After some hand-waving and picture-showing we finally got the salon to understand what we wanted.</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1402313764314_6769">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9FBzZAVOq3atoLNm19QRW-D7BxPcw5-Ohv_Muj13klipAkVF2EQn4K9MU_3XpHC5t58sdYwjFXt9fS8NlJMqR_66PKoyZV8OJRk2BjXc3ZQfjzjcwrydqLNJaJ9rgTAexC9uIrkTIIYc/s1600/prewedding_56302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9FBzZAVOq3atoLNm19QRW-D7BxPcw5-Ohv_Muj13klipAkVF2EQn4K9MU_3XpHC5t58sdYwjFXt9fS8NlJMqR_66PKoyZV8OJRk2BjXc3ZQfjzjcwrydqLNJaJ9rgTAexC9uIrkTIIYc/s1600/prewedding_56302.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Feeder, in front of my office building in La Defense.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1402313764314_6769" style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
This was how I began a long day of pre-wedding photoshoot in Paris. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Hence fellow brides out there, heed my warning! <span style="color: red;"><u>DO NOT</u></span>, I repeat, <span style="color: red;"><u>DO NOT</u></span> hire <b><span style="color: red;">Danielle Carson</span></b> the hair stylist in Paris. I pray that the same fate will fall upon her on her wedding, and her birthday, and her prom night (I guess she's too old for that), and any important event in her life!</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Don't get me wrong - Charles Gillman did a fabulous job! But this Danielle, she's irresponsible, unprofessional and useless! Below was an email I sent after the photoshoot:</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">From: shinloo <shinloo yahoo.com=""></shinloo></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">To: Danielle Carson <danfrancar gmail.com=""></danfrancar></span><span style="color: blue; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><</span><a href="mailto:danfrancar@gmail.com" style="color: blue; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">danfrancar@gmail.com></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Cc: charlesgillman@charlesgillman.com</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Sent: Oct 4, 2013 6:18:34 PM</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Danielle,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Sending your email 5 hours before our appointment, I am sure you already knew I will not be able to read your email in time. This is equivalent to not showing up at the last minute and totally unprofessional. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Charles, </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I am grateful for your effort to try to help. I believe it was a bad day for both of us. I hope you will be wise in selecting your partners in the future. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Shinloo</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Below was Charles' reply:</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">From: </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">charlesgillman@charlesgillman.com</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">To: </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">shinloo <shinloo yahoo.com=""><shinloo yahoo.com=""></shinloo></shinloo></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Sent: Oct 7, 2013 1:44:50 PM</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Hello Shinloo,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Sorry for the delayed reply, this weekend’s been rather busy. I just wanted to thank you for your email and I really hope that your shoot was enjoyable despite the actions of Danielle that morning. I wanted to let you know that we had a firm two hour discussion on Tuesday morning to follow up on her bad client service with yourself. Following on from this, we’ve made a decision that she will no longer be working with Charles Gillman Cosmetics – Paris, as she doesn’t fit our philosophy of superior customer service. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Once again I apologise profusely, it was lovely to meet you and I hope that you enjoy the rest of your stay in Paris.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Kindest regards.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Charles</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Great! Serves her right! I hope this ruins her career!</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-8064071365354101202014-05-17T14:45:00.001+08:002014-05-17T14:45:50.101+08:00The Wind Rises - The Review<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Le vent se lève! ... il faut tenter de vivre!<br />~ Paul Valéry ~</i><br /><br /><span style="color: red;">*SPOILERS ALERT*</span><br /><br /> It's a story of a man who put his aviation dream in the first place, and the love of his life the second. At least, that's how I interpret it.<br /><br /> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jiro_Horikoshi">Jiro Horikoshi</a> was a aircraft designer who created the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mitsubishi_A5M">Mitsubishi A5M</a>, to be used in the war - a war which he strongly opposed to. None of the aircraft survived. </span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Knowing that his dream and career were always more important, his wife still support him nonetheless. She chose to leave him so she could die alone from tuberculosis, which was incurable.<br /><br /> I guess it's supposed to be inspiring. But to me, it is just damn sad. It may looks like he had accomplished a lot, and that he succeed in his dream. But I feel otherwise.<br /><br /> Below is a trailer of the movie, with the soundtrack that I really like.</span><br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/wbgboiTwtCs" width="640"></iframe>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<br /></div>
thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-51788179287958676722014-05-15T19:16:00.000+08:002014-05-15T19:16:06.582+08:00The Geographically Blind Reborn (again)<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had abandoned it for a year. Last week, out of no where, it came back into my thoughts. And then suddenly I had so much to say - not to the world, but rather to myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As I began writing, I re-discovered some of my older posts. Most of them were things I had long forgotten. It felt familiar yet strange, reading back my <a href="http://geographicallyblind.blogspot.com/search/label/Random%20thoughts" target="_blank">thoughts</a>, my experience in <a href="http://geographicallyblind.blogspot.com/search/label/Life" target="_blank">life</a>, <a href="http://geographicallyblind.blogspot.com/search/label/Vacation" target="_blank">travel</a>, <a href="http://geographicallyblind.blogspot.com/search/label/My%20Philosophy" target="_blank">things</a> that I once felt so important that I needed to document them. It was as if looking at myself from a totally different perspective, in a third person's point of view. I watched myself fall, live life, and grow up. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then I remembered how it once supported me to get through everyday, when <a href="http://geographicallyblind.blogspot.com/2008/09/untitled.html" target="_blank">depression</a> took over me. And how I fell in love, and it took everything in - my laments, my brags. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I created it. But it completed me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-588588650257899862014-05-14T19:54:00.001+08:002014-05-14T19:54:09.459+08:00My Greatest Fear<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There was one thing that I had done recently that made me feel proud, and I had not felt like this for the longest time. I had learnt to swim.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Last year I gathered my courage, and did something I should had done years ago - I signed up for swimming lessons. I did this partly thanks to encouragements from Feeder, and mostly because I was tired of being afraid.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Being in water had been one of my greatest fear for the past 29 years (apart from lizards, anything cold-blooded, my boss' boss and ghosts). Whenever I was in a swimming pool (which is very rarely) of a mere 100 meters depth, my hands would never leave the edge for fear that I might fall and unable to balance on my feet. I never had a drowning experience and I wished I never would.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Back when I was in my college years, in the Batu Ferringgi beach my friends and I were sitting on a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Banana_boat_(boat)" target="_blank">banana boat</a>. I remembered I watched in panic as the speedboat driver playfully swirled the boat in a sharp turn causing the banana boat to capsize and all of us ended up in the sea. I wailed as loud as I could for my friends to come save me, all the while having the orange-coloured life jacket on.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My high school, King George V Secondary School in Seremban, was the only school in town that had a swimming pool. Back then I took the swimming lessons, I was taught to glide with the float. But when I reached the stage where I was supposed to let go of the float, I couldn't do it. I guess I just wasn't as determined as I am now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So when I signed up for the swimming lessons, I was very doubtful. I mean, if I could learn to swim I already had 16 years ago. What pushed me forward, I guess, was that I didn't want to add this to my list of regrets in life. I was, after all, going to reach 30 really soon.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My first lesson was a tough one. It started out easy, thanks to my brief experience in high school. Blowing under water, gliding, kicking - those I could manage. But then there came the hard part. I was told to kick, glide, push my arms apart and bring my head above water to breathe. Now that I talked about it, it seemed so easy but back then, for a person like me, it was harder than jumping off a roof. But what could I do when my hair was wet and half of my body from waist down was submerged in the pool. So I <strike>did</strike> tried to do as I was told. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I pushed my arms apart, the insecurity of having no floating support took over and the only thought in my mind was, "I'm not going to make it". Hence water was splashed and people stared as I regained my balance to stand on my feet, half of my body from waist down submerged in the water. I wiped off the water dripping from my hair and saw faces trying really hard to refrain from laughing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Later that night I cried myself to sleep with sad thoughts that I would never learn to swim. I might as well had thrown the 300 bucks to the ocean - at least I could hear a splash. But that didn't change the fact that I had already paid. So I left work early whenever I could to practice in the freezing cold water. It took me 2 weeks to be able to perform the 3 simple steps of frog style. The first time I managed to do it, I guess that was the proudest moment of my life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now I could swim laps of frog style. It didn't quite come naturally to me yet. I still must count in my head "kick, glide, push, up". And water threading was still something yet to be mastered. At least, if I were placed in the middle of the ocean without any floating device, I wouldn't immediately drown. In July this year I would be going to take a diving license. Hopefully that experience would strike out another item on my list of regrets.</span>thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-19218153033041094692014-05-08T20:23:00.000+08:002014-05-14T20:10:58.508+08:00People say we are meant for each otherPeople say we are meant for each other.<br />
<br />
I was preparing an invitation email for my wedding. Then I forgot the most important detail. But I remember I told one of my friends, so I asked her.<br />
<br />
<i>"Do you remember when is my wedding, Karishma? November what?"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Oh I forgot. November 29th?"</i><br />
<br />
I checked the calender and 29th November was a Saturday.<br />
<br />
<i>"Yes it is! Thanks!"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"You forgot your own wedding date? Check with your boyfriend!"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"He would most probably forgot also."</i><br />
<br />
To prove that I was right, I gave him a test. He was playing Diablo on the computer. So I dragged a chair and sat beside him.<br />
<br />
<i>"When is our wedding date?"</i><br />
<br />
<i>"November 31st."</i> Eyes on the computer screen.<br />
<br />
<i>"What? No!"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"November 31st! Yes!"</i> Eyes were still on the computer screen.<br />
<br />
<i>"No it's not! It's November 29th!"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Oh yeah, you're right." </i>Eyes still had not leave the computer screen.<br />
<br />
I moved my head close to his so that my head had blocked one-third of the screen.<br />
<br />
<i>"I forgot my own wedding date and my friends laughed at me."</i><br />
<br />
<i>"Hahaha..."</i> Shifted head while eyes were still on the screen.<br />
<br />
Well at least he didn't shout at me or slap my face.<br />
<br />
The next day I told my friends and was told there were only 30 days in November. They had a good laugh.<br />
<br />
That is when people say we are meant for each other.thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8633611625676027892.post-35278532020690599492013-05-28T20:20:00.002+08:002013-05-28T20:20:53.259+08:00Her Fearful Symmetry - A Book Review<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh584J-gj72W3g4DLrZI7wDQ8LE8_68ET0P133Fqaz-FY7xxVnesiN66WdGbmoEfw9hLoh9FnJDJLg8Sv7pKTM-2VPH-ATKEHFq7gyisGAs0iRIFDb-OiAN83I8lqrI9YfSHkm09houmfQ/s1600/Her+Fearful+Symmetry+Audrey+Niffenegger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh584J-gj72W3g4DLrZI7wDQ8LE8_68ET0P133Fqaz-FY7xxVnesiN66WdGbmoEfw9hLoh9FnJDJLg8Sv7pKTM-2VPH-ATKEHFq7gyisGAs0iRIFDb-OiAN83I8lqrI9YfSHkm09houmfQ/s320/Her+Fearful+Symmetry+Audrey+Niffenegger.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b>*SPOILERS ALERT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.*</b></span><br />
<br />
You have a demanding, controlling twin sister and you are sick and tired of her bossing you around. Would you kill yourself, and entrust upon your dead aunt (who is now a ghost haunting you) to resurrect you? Bear in mind that the resurrection is no guarantee to be successful. Worst case scenario, you'll be dead and trapped haunting an apartment for eternity. I don't know about you guys but for me, that is like the last thing I want. Unless Niffenegger is trying to portray her character Valentina as an idiot beyond hope. I mean,<i> come on</i>, has the option of leaving your twin sister ever occur to you? This itself made the final 100-or-so pages of the book painful to get through.<br />
<br />
Next, meet Martin - a poor soul suffering <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Obsessive%E2%80%93compulsive_disorder">OCD</a> (obsessive compulsive disorder). His wife Marijke left him, tired of his symptoms (which includes excessive cleaning and bleaching, insisting that she enters the bedroom with left foot first, refusing to leave the house etc.) and his refusing to obtain treatment, which is also one of the symptoms. This is all very interesting but WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH THE MAIN STORY? Sure, occasionally Martin crosses path with Julia and Robert but I can't help feeling the events seem forceful and pointless. To me, these two characters are just redundant. In the end Niffenegger had to cure Martin and send him to live happily ever after with Marijke just to get rid of them.<br />
<br />
I had to question Niffenegger's creativity and imagination when she described the haunting. Invisible hand? Writings on the dust? Ouija board? How cliche is that. <i>*yawn*</i> Stealing another's body? Ghost kitten? And best of all - the ghost has to leave the apartment only via a person's mouth? Give me a break!<br />
<br />
I've heard great reviews on The Time Traveler's Wife also by Niffenegger. I simply couldn't bring myself to read it because the movie was so tragic. But Her Fearful Symmetry was undoubtedly a failure and disappointment.thE gEOgrAphicAlly blindhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15439001682670211863noreply@blogger.com0