I achieved a first last night which I thought would never happen. Not that I ever had intended it to happen, but it is something literally to write home about. My parents would be pleased.
I went out for a few drinks and a bite to eat with Rob last night. Rob was chomping at the bit to get some Chinese food in him, and I was happy to oblige. Wandering through Chinatown we were amazed that people would queue up to get into restaurants. I mean, it's Chinatown! There are so many eateries to choose from down that one strip - same same, but different. The one with the flashing neon pig outside it's window (now changed to a mouse) I do however, avoid.
Flicking through the menu I was a confident boy. I was going to order in Chinese to see if I could get away with doing an a la carte order - usually I cheat and order just for one, but doing a "normal" Chinese order is another thing altogether. I called over the waiter and proceeded to order in Cantonese. He looked at me in bewilderment. And then ran off.
I sat there, with my mouth opening and shutting like an ornamental carp. And then got rescued by another waitress who asked me sweetly in Chinese what I wanted to order.
The banana (white on the inside, yellow on the outside) had succeeded for the first time in his life, to actually necessitate a change in waiter so he could order in Chinese! By then I was feeling pretty smug, but then she threw in a curly one. The Sichuan beef I had ordered is a sweet spicy sauce - not the fiery one she thought I had wanted. I said in my best Cantonese "that's fine" and off we went. And rice for one? No, for two thank you.
Taffy scores!
Now that I've mastered the "noodles, roast duck, beef and rice" in Cantonese it's on to bigger challenges.
Let's see if those Mandarin lessons paid off after all Mum!
Sunday, 20 April 2008
Sunday, 6 April 2008
the green and the yellow and the blue, red and white
I feel like I've been hit with a dose of Melbourne weather. This morning, for the first time in my life, I've woken up from my own bed to find myself reaching outside my window to catch snow. It was quite an novel experience to draw the curtains and then to see snow carpeting the ground outside. In excitement, I quickly put on my clothes and using my need to do grocery shopping as an excuse, went out to feel snowflakes falling on my nose and accumulating on my glasses. While it was a bit chilly, I was secretly thrilled to be doing such a mundane task with such a beautiful fall of snow. Strangely, the snow stopped about lunch time and then cleared to full sunshine. In watching the sun set over dinner, I've marveled at how tonight I've had my window open and felt the warmth of the sun while making a chicken salad for dinner and listening to Kisstory on the radio. I feel in a way that I've been transported back in time to a Melbourne summer - music from a decade ago, and being warm and cold at the same time. Quite a nice combination really, like sweet and sour pork (don't you even think about touching that last bit of pineapple) or hot and sour soup which as a Chinese I must rabidly claim to loathe, but am instead quietly delighted when one of you caucasian people order it as an entree for dinner.
Though, this wasn't my first London snow. Last week when Nick was around, as Nick and I were walking along the Mall from Buckingham Palace in sunshine, there were a few flakes of snow falling, although it was more like light hail than anything else. Later that night as we looked for dinner, it snowed for real - it was funny walking into a restaurant, people staring at us covered in snow, completely unaware of the snow storm that was happening outside.
I said to Nick, who had only arrived that afternoon that he had brought in the snow with him. I was more happy however that he had remember to bring me Tim Tams from Australia! Nick had never been to London before, so I played tourist guide to him, discovering in the process things that I had never seen before. Giving him the original (and rather mediocre) Taffy's Tour of London, we visited Harrods (not my idea, mind you - I can't stand the uppity and touristy Harrods), and took a stroll through Green Park to Buckingham Palace. Green Park was ablaze with daffodils, and I couldn't resist getting a picture taken. It really was beautiful - pockets of yellow and white in a sea of green. To Nick's relief I refrained from skipping merrily through the daffodils.
Photos of main attractions completed, including an attempt by Nick to climb one of the lions at Trafalgar Square (a feat not attempted by myself yet), and a photo of us with a Guard near the Horse Guards, Nick declared it to be drinking time as we crossed Westminster Bridge. Nick found a famous pub in his guide, so we headed off to Waterloo to The George - a pub hundreds of years old. After sampling a few ales, we wandered back towards Chinatown for a cheap meal and headed back home - Nick snoring loudly on the train. Interestingly for him and not so much for me, Nick had what he termed his "second wind" and we proceeded to open a bottle of red and have a good chat into the early hours of the morning.
The next day I left Nick to his own devices after battling the peak hour crowds together. Later that evening, we went out for a drink in Holborn, with more ales to be sampled. After a few drinks I was getting decidedly cheery, and it was even more so after Nick's cousin, Molly arrived for the festivities. The drinks flowed and we were soon getting hungry, where we ended up somewhere in the West End for eats. By that stage I had hit exhaustion, and it was back home not for sleep but a rather boozy chat to Francis over the phone back in Melbourne, and the completion of a bottle of wine.
The next day I bid farewell to Nick who was heading to France, but I could not yet reclaim my apartment back. Back when my Mum was at University, she had a roommate called Ming who eventually moved to France while mum ended up in Australia. They kept in contact, and each had their own families. Clearly Mum has been talking about me behind my back, and Ming found out that I was living in London. Ming's daughter was coming to London for the first time for a Uni conference - would I mind putting her up for a couple of nights? I couldn't say no to something that had come full circle. Viviane and I had a good laugh over it later on, and I got a crash course in French. I learnt how to say Bouillabaise properly (something like boo-ya-beh) and how to say "La defence" (la dee-fonce). I also learnt what the French really thought of President Sarkozy, and we both agreed how charismatic President Chirac and Premier de Villepin were in the hey-day.
Viviane was very sweet to buy me cookies from "Ben's" - apparently a famous shop near St Pauls. Famous or not, the cookies were melt-in-your-mouth-buttery-smooth. Must go and search for them sometime because cookies like that need rescuing behind glass counters and eaten with a nice cup of tea.
Later that weekend I went to the Museum of Natural History to check out the Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition - a yearly competition of the most amazing photography of wildlife. Being a sunny Sunday afternoon, there were kids everywhere. Walking out of the Tube station, I came across dad and young son at the top of the stairs. Dad was having technical difficulties with stroller, while the little boy dressed in the cutest navy blue coat teetered at the top of the stairs, arms outstretched in balancing himself, tottering down the stairs with nervousness and triumph at every step. At the museum, I got stuck in a line to get in - 2 little Indian twin boys were in front of me, mum feeding them samosas from a blue lunchbox. One of the little boys whined about having to line up, and the mum shushed him up, explaining that "he wasn't allowed to go in until the lady in front of him had got in". I laughed and the mum looked at me and gave me a knowing grin - the inculcation of British values in one clean swoop!
The exhibition itself was very good. Incredible photos of wildlife and landscrapes took your breath away. As the lead caption explained, some photographers waited for hours and hours to get the perfect shot. Perfection indeed. There were a small number of landscape photos included - one of them of an Australian beach. Deliberately blurry, you could see the grainy but strong colours of the sand, surf and sky. I felt a ping of homesickness when someone behind me talked about how great it must be to live in Australia.
It is.
But of course, such opportunities to see exhibitions such as these are few and far between in Melbourne. As is the chance to drink really good ale - a habit that I am picking up slowly in London. I'm now starting to appreciate independent brewery ales every so often. One of my friends, Angus, is a bit of an ale enthusiast, so it's always good to have him choose ales for me to sample when I'm out catching up with him. We found a great tapas bar near Tavistock Square (yes, that square) and had a great meal of Spanish meats, prawns, lentils and artichokes. Although, I wasn't so game as Angus in having a glass of sherry with our food, I did try a pretty robust Spanish red.
As we've now hit daylight savings and spring, I'm looking forward to really enjoying twilight in my flat, watching the golden sunset withdrawing over the views of Canary Wharf. Having been sunshine deprived for the past 6 months, it's time to open the windows and really see what else London has to offer as I hurtle towards my first birthday in London.
Though, this wasn't my first London snow. Last week when Nick was around, as Nick and I were walking along the Mall from Buckingham Palace in sunshine, there were a few flakes of snow falling, although it was more like light hail than anything else. Later that night as we looked for dinner, it snowed for real - it was funny walking into a restaurant, people staring at us covered in snow, completely unaware of the snow storm that was happening outside.
I said to Nick, who had only arrived that afternoon that he had brought in the snow with him. I was more happy however that he had remember to bring me Tim Tams from Australia! Nick had never been to London before, so I played tourist guide to him, discovering in the process things that I had never seen before. Giving him the original (and rather mediocre) Taffy's Tour of London, we visited Harrods (not my idea, mind you - I can't stand the uppity and touristy Harrods), and took a stroll through Green Park to Buckingham Palace. Green Park was ablaze with daffodils, and I couldn't resist getting a picture taken. It really was beautiful - pockets of yellow and white in a sea of green. To Nick's relief I refrained from skipping merrily through the daffodils.
Photos of main attractions completed, including an attempt by Nick to climb one of the lions at Trafalgar Square (a feat not attempted by myself yet), and a photo of us with a Guard near the Horse Guards, Nick declared it to be drinking time as we crossed Westminster Bridge. Nick found a famous pub in his guide, so we headed off to Waterloo to The George - a pub hundreds of years old. After sampling a few ales, we wandered back towards Chinatown for a cheap meal and headed back home - Nick snoring loudly on the train. Interestingly for him and not so much for me, Nick had what he termed his "second wind" and we proceeded to open a bottle of red and have a good chat into the early hours of the morning.
The next day I left Nick to his own devices after battling the peak hour crowds together. Later that evening, we went out for a drink in Holborn, with more ales to be sampled. After a few drinks I was getting decidedly cheery, and it was even more so after Nick's cousin, Molly arrived for the festivities. The drinks flowed and we were soon getting hungry, where we ended up somewhere in the West End for eats. By that stage I had hit exhaustion, and it was back home not for sleep but a rather boozy chat to Francis over the phone back in Melbourne, and the completion of a bottle of wine.
The next day I bid farewell to Nick who was heading to France, but I could not yet reclaim my apartment back. Back when my Mum was at University, she had a roommate called Ming who eventually moved to France while mum ended up in Australia. They kept in contact, and each had their own families. Clearly Mum has been talking about me behind my back, and Ming found out that I was living in London. Ming's daughter was coming to London for the first time for a Uni conference - would I mind putting her up for a couple of nights? I couldn't say no to something that had come full circle. Viviane and I had a good laugh over it later on, and I got a crash course in French. I learnt how to say Bouillabaise properly (something like boo-ya-beh) and how to say "La defence" (la dee-fonce). I also learnt what the French really thought of President Sarkozy, and we both agreed how charismatic President Chirac and Premier de Villepin were in the hey-day.
Viviane was very sweet to buy me cookies from "Ben's" - apparently a famous shop near St Pauls. Famous or not, the cookies were melt-in-your-mouth-buttery-smooth. Must go and search for them sometime because cookies like that need rescuing behind glass counters and eaten with a nice cup of tea.
Later that weekend I went to the Museum of Natural History to check out the Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition - a yearly competition of the most amazing photography of wildlife. Being a sunny Sunday afternoon, there were kids everywhere. Walking out of the Tube station, I came across dad and young son at the top of the stairs. Dad was having technical difficulties with stroller, while the little boy dressed in the cutest navy blue coat teetered at the top of the stairs, arms outstretched in balancing himself, tottering down the stairs with nervousness and triumph at every step. At the museum, I got stuck in a line to get in - 2 little Indian twin boys were in front of me, mum feeding them samosas from a blue lunchbox. One of the little boys whined about having to line up, and the mum shushed him up, explaining that "he wasn't allowed to go in until the lady in front of him had got in". I laughed and the mum looked at me and gave me a knowing grin - the inculcation of British values in one clean swoop!
The exhibition itself was very good. Incredible photos of wildlife and landscrapes took your breath away. As the lead caption explained, some photographers waited for hours and hours to get the perfect shot. Perfection indeed. There were a small number of landscape photos included - one of them of an Australian beach. Deliberately blurry, you could see the grainy but strong colours of the sand, surf and sky. I felt a ping of homesickness when someone behind me talked about how great it must be to live in Australia.
It is.
But of course, such opportunities to see exhibitions such as these are few and far between in Melbourne. As is the chance to drink really good ale - a habit that I am picking up slowly in London. I'm now starting to appreciate independent brewery ales every so often. One of my friends, Angus, is a bit of an ale enthusiast, so it's always good to have him choose ales for me to sample when I'm out catching up with him. We found a great tapas bar near Tavistock Square (yes, that square) and had a great meal of Spanish meats, prawns, lentils and artichokes. Although, I wasn't so game as Angus in having a glass of sherry with our food, I did try a pretty robust Spanish red.
As we've now hit daylight savings and spring, I'm looking forward to really enjoying twilight in my flat, watching the golden sunset withdrawing over the views of Canary Wharf. Having been sunshine deprived for the past 6 months, it's time to open the windows and really see what else London has to offer as I hurtle towards my first birthday in London.
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