Cape to Cape Walk, Day 6

Adapt and go with the flow. Sugar Loaf Rock to Cape Naturaliste Lighthouse, 3.5km. This lovely section is built on a paved path, with an occasional boardwalk. It's peaceful, but I keep eyes peeled for bottlenose dolphin leaping the surf. Storyboards placed on the yearbook explain the heath vegetation and trees, sculptured by the gusty winds. We come across a Cape-to-Cape hiker, starting from Cape Naturaliste. He plans to take six days and he is blessed by good weather. I'm enjoying the last day of our hike. I'm relishing the beautiful experience. We reach our car, Marty walks to the lighthouse to take a picture for his grandkid, and i walk another ten minutes, not wanting this to end. Cape to Cape Walk 2025. #capetocapewalk #capetocape2025

Cape to Cape Walk, Day 5

A Hiker's Camp at Ellenbrook. A tornado may have hit The South West region. The rains are again very heavy, winds reaching 80 kph. We check out of the RAC Margaret River Nature Park and drive to Gracetown, intending to park a car there and a second car on Ellenbrook, allowing us to walk 7km. But the promise of the rain pelting down make us reconsider our plan. As well, we spent an hour helping a local change a broken tyre on his van. I asked John, the local, to help fix my bumper. By the time the sky clears up, it's early afternoon, so we eat pies in Gracetown. We meet John again. We chat a while until it's time to start our short walk at Ellenbrook. The campsite here is attractive. Cape to Cape campsites, unlike those at the Bibbulmun Track, come only with tent sites, rainwater tanks and picnic tables. Tonight, we stay at the Tasman Holiday Park on Yallingup Beach. Nearby is an old tavern. The chicken parmigiana here is large. Wednesday is Parmi night! We look forward to going home.

Cape to Cape Walk, Day 4

Crossing a river mouth. Wild storms hit the Margaret River region today and we give up any hope of meeting our walking schedule, which is to walk from the river mouth to Gracetown. The Margaret River mouth cannot be crossed certain months of the year, so we take the opportunity to cross the sandbar. Again, the signage is poor, for us walking north. We don't need convincing to return to our car after walking just a kilometre. The ominous clouds signal another burst of rain. And it starts thid way for the rest of the day. In fact, it's reported that Margaret River yesterday was soaked in the heaviest rainfall ever. Tonight, we pamper ourselves by eating an Omakase meal at Miki's Open Kitchen. Five courses of yummy food.

Cape to Cape Walk, Day 3

Blackboy Hollow Cave Road to Margaret River Mouth, 8km We make the decision not to cover the full distance from Redgate Beach to Margaret River Mouth. With the help of our official maps and Google, we discover where we can access the track by car and we find it at Blackboy Hollow, where we drive nearly 2km on an limestone compacted road. But first, an update on the found-key story. When we started from Cape Leeuwin Lighthouse, and some 7km into our walk, we found a set of car keys. Quick thinking led us to scratch a message on the sand: Key found, heading to H.B. Hol. Park. Call [mob. #]. The next morning we got a call thanking us. At the holiday park reception, the owner was reunited with her key. By performing a good Samaritan act, we could have earned karma points and our Day 1 walk happened without mishap. But today, it's a beautiful and short walk, through Rottnest tea trees, peppermint and magnificent karri. We arrive at the river mouth in early afternoon. It's crossable!

CAPE TO CAPE WALK Day 2

A day to take life slowly! Redgate Beach to Conto Campgrounds, 11km It's a day to recover and take life slowly. We fish at the Augusta jetty, catch three undersized fish which we throw back into the water. Then, we eat pies in this most southerly town. One of the staff asks how we are. She is holding two jobs and had served us at the fish and chips shop. We park one car at Conto, the other at Redgate and our 6-km walk starts from Redgate Beach. The sea is not as rough as yesterday, surfers are having fun, the beach is beautiful. The coastal scenery is beautiful. Surfers enjoy riding the tall waves. Tonight, we camp at Conto. I was hoping to test the hiking tent I bought 11 years ago for my Fjallraven Classic Sweden, but the storm forecast for the morning does not materialise. So far, It's been a walk that makes one count one's blessings. How lucky to have these facilities made available to us! This morning, Marty receives a call from the owner of the set of car keys we found near Skippy Rocks on Day 1. I had drawn on the sand we found the key and we were heading to Hamelin Bay Holiday Park. I inscribed Marty's nine-digit cellphone number as he was the only one among us to subscribe to a Telstra line. What's the chance that you can recover something you drop while hiking on the Cape to Cape Track?

The Cape to Cape Walk: A Painful Start

Leeuwin Lighthouse to Cosy Corner, 20km I watch the waves rushing up the shore. The hooded plover watch too, their beaks lowered. Will the next wave uncover more food? Our boots are wet, covered with sand, washed by the waves. I look over the limestone rocks, to the Indian Ocean. I imagine myself in Cape Horn, the waters of the Pacific on my right, and the Atlantic on my left. We fail to see a marker on our right. This mistake costs us some 90 minutes of walking. It is unsafe walking on sharp limestone rocks. Marty cuts his left palm on one. There are indeed lessons on navigation that I learn. I thought I had learnt then 12 years ago, but I was a rookie bushwalker then. The sun has set. The moon appears as a lovely crescent on our left. I don't feel a sense of danger walking in the semi darkness. The eyes adjust. And we have left the blowholes behind us. I don't relish walking near them, 50 cm in diameter, patiently waiting for us to step into them to be sucked down into the ocean depths, accompanied by the short sighs of the Greek god Poseidon. A long day, taking 10 hours to walk the distance. And then, the light from VC's phone shine on our car, parked at Cosy Corner. Our first stop is the fish & chips shop in Augusta. I order the fresh king fish. But VC says his ginger beer tastes better than the fish. I don't care. Any fish tastes good in a hungry mouth. #capetocape2025

Dazzled by Simple Thoughts

I've known Adrian since I was 16. It's odd. How does one keep a friend for so long? Over such a long distance? Odder still, we have met only twice. We were penpals, and nobody does penpals anymore. Someone in a podcast tried to explain life's meaning and referred to Dostoevsky, whose literary works explore the human condition in the troubled political, social, and spiritual atmospheres of 19th-century Russia. Perhaps, friendship and life can be explained simply. Perhaps, answers can be found right in front of us. The satirical comedy, The Monk and The Gun, which we watched this week, offered insights into a simpler world, where money and liberalism meant little, and rituals and offerings a lot. I won't spoil it for you, but watch out for this movie wherever it's streaming.

Baths, Faiths and Rites

This morning, I walked the 200m to Yunomine-oji. It's a shrine that defines this village onsen. We put up last night in Ryokan Adumaya. It's featured in the book, Hidden Hot Springs. I've finished walking the Kumano Kodo with Brian. I've decided that rituals are not the answer to problems. it's one of the crutches we need to get through tough days. Japan is a country of rituals. Pilgrims are supposed to start their journey from Kii Tanabe. it doesn't matter that they take a bus to Takijiri, and walk to reach Kumano Hongu Taisha. We didn't even arrive at Kii Tanabe. So, we weren't following a ritual early last week when we started. Whether one is rich or poor, healthy or ill, one cannot avoid practising rituals, or profess a faith for that matter. The first thing I did when I woke up was to luxuriate in the rotenburo, an outdoor bath. I was alone. I was not fastidious about scrubbing my back as I saw a few bathers do in my stays at a Japanese inn. Are they obsessive? Probably not. But, scrubbing the back seems to provide a clue of what the soul of Japan is.

Soul food, a journey through traditional Southeast Asia cuisine cuisine

Hainanese Chicken Rice Chili sauce is key. But each of us will have our own favourite. The original Hainanese chicken is Wenchang chicken in Hainan (a city near Haikou). Big and fat chicken, castrated for flavor. The Malaysian and Singapore version is a "improved" version. I'm looking forward to this dish, which I hope, on the day, to match the last great tasty meal I took in 1979 in a hainanese home. Enjoy this read, written by Adam Liaw, a Hainanese himself: https://adamliaw.com/recipe/hainanese-chicken-rice/ Nasi Lemak https://www.visitsingapore.com/en_au/dining-drinks-singapore/local-dishes/nasi-lemak/ I like the picture on this site: the "rich rice" served with peanuts, fried anchovies, sambal paste and...yes..half a hard boiled egg. How traditional can you get? Wrap it in banana leaf, and it's as authentic as you can get! Nasi lemak is Malay cuisine and a national dish in many regions of southeast Asia. The sambal paste makes or breaks the dish. I miss the rice served at breakfast, whether it's pandan leaf and coconut milk flavored rice in Singapore, Malaysia or Palembang, or the Daing na Bangus (milkfish) served with Sinangag (garlic fried rice), and fried egg I enjoyed so much in Iligan City, Mindanao. Curry Chicken with Bread Long before the N-S Highway was built, whenever we travelled between Kuala Lumpur and Ipoh, we would stop in Kampar to eat its famous dish, curry chicken in bread. No one stops in Kampar anymore, so I haven't eaten it for a long long time. Sharon cooked this dish for us using her Grandma's recipe. The curry is dry, so it doesn't spoil the bread. For more details, click here: https://www.google.com/amp/s/journey.com.my/story/the-best-chicken-curry-bun-in-kampar/amp/

A Product of Our Circumstances

I've just completed reading a novel titled 'A Man With No Surname'. It was the second novel translated from Vietnamese that I read, and this time, again, I felt a thrill: there was familiarity with the morality woven in the story, and there was a profound lesson that its author, Nguyen Xuan Duc, wanted his readers to learn: sometimes, we are a product of our circumstances. I would love to ask the author if that was what he thought, but, alas, he passed away two weeks ago.

Lang, the main character in the story, decided to escape to the South. He found that he was not trusted. He performed menial jobs to survive. But, people took pity on him. He even felt shoots of love grow within his boyish heart. He grew up. He became an expert in kungfu. He rose to became a gang head.

After Unification, he became a fugitive, hunted by a clever police officer, nicknamed Zhuge Liang, of Three Kingdoms fame.

I felt the author's sadness when, after he completed his mission (I won't be the spoiler and reveal Lang's fate), the police officer said: It's sad. Lang was a human being before he became the devil.

There was also romance, unrequited love.

Lang would ask, when at wits' end, why he left the North.

Other readers may call his, fate. He deserved what he sowed. Karma. But I think we are sometimes a victim of our circumstances, of which we have no control.

Italian Vacation

1. Rome and its Glorious Past

Rome, I think, is mostly about the past - its monuments, magnificent structures and art. But the city, in its wisdom, has managed to preserved things that matter, while other cities cast their past away seeking development.

Rome is quite nice. But we're in its old district.

2. TUSCANY: Great Countryside, Pinocchio & Cinqueterre

The train trip from Rome to Florence on April 7 was a rush: we arrive at Roma Termini with 30 minutes to spare, and we didn't know that having a booking number was sufficient.

Florence seems great for shopping for leather. Florentine people know what shoppers want.

Florence is also the home of Pinocchio. Interestingly, the author, a Florentino, was a satirist, and behind the children's tale is a dark side for human adults to learn about. For more, read the caption on the image of the marionette.

After two days of walking, shopping and ogling at cathedrals, we packed our bags and took the train to Cinque Terre.

Afternoon on arriving Monterosso was a lazy affair: watching the world go by while relaxing on a bench near our apartment. The sea was only a stone throw away. Lunch was spaghetti served with mussel and clam; we paid tourist prices of course - close to €20 per head, with charges for bread, water and Cappuccino on top of the €14 for spaghetti.

This was the place to burn off calories from eating too much good food. Only the track from Monterosso to Vernezza was open, so the next day, Tuck Onn and I started out before 10am to walk this 2-hour section of Cinque Terre.

The coastal scenery was gorgeous; no wonder in summer, Cinqueterra and its trains are always packed with tourists. We stayed here for four days.

In Pisa, I don't know why my mood turned somber. It could be because Galileo conducted his experiment up in the famous tower. How natural it must be for him to try out his theories here. I sat on the steps outside the duomo and was amused by the antics of tourists trying to hold up the tower on their photography.

Our last days in Tuscany were: a memorable guided hike from Soviere back to Monterosso, tasting Cinqueterre's famous white wines (I enjoyed the bouquet of the Capellini, of which there are two types) and a ferry journey to see the five hamlets. Cinqueterre was the highlight of our Tuscan vacation.

3. Italy's Eternal City

 We last visited Venice in autumn 1989. Spring as well is not busy, temperatures mild, and walking around a delight.

We made a beeline for Rialto Bridge. The views from on top this icon is in my view the best in Venice. Instantly, I'm happy. And nostalgic. 26 years ago, we stayed in Locunda Sturion, a boutique hotel overlooking Rialto on the Grand Canal. Then, we were serenaded each night with Italian ballads sung enthusiastically by gondoliers. But we didn't sit on one of the gondolas.

This time, we stayed in the Jewish Ghetto, thirty minutes from the tourist hubbub of activity. We paid €100 to sit on the decorated boat. Our gondolier was a young man, hardly the singer you would love to listen to. But we enjoyed our ride.

Taverna Al Remer is a cosy pub restaurant near Rialto Bridge, and it faces the Grand Canal (no views), but it's not easy to find. The food was delicious. We came here twice, and both times ordered the Spritz cocktail, a Venetian creation, it seems.

Our second day was designed to be one to get lost in Venice. As some in our group still didn't get used to the idea, we got lost in separate ways. Sim and I took ages to reach St Mark's Square. We met really nice locals whom we accosted to ask the way. An elderly lady practised her English on us, but it was a pity both sides were in a hurry.

So, what can I offer you about Venice?

a. As all references and guidebooks tell you, get lost. But, you must take time to do so. Never be in a hurry. In the process, speak with locals; many will say they don't speak English, but you meet very nice people.

b. Venice is one place one can ponder over what the whole purpose of travel is about. I sum it simply: to feel a place, not see it; to live it, not pass it; and, not to want to do something, but to collect in your memory bank the snapshot of time that you want to keep of a place forever.

c. Read a. again. No, really, get on the canals, ride the water buses, or taxis, or even the gondolas if you feel extravagant (which in Venice, you must), and get romantic. Watch the sunset, sip wine wine, eat crepe with ice cream.

d. Get to know a little of Venice's history and culture, even if only to find out that Marco Polo hailed from here.

e. Unless you come in summer (for those who love crowds), spend a little shopping money. In off season, shop assistants try very hard to get your business. They can be very nice.

4. Lombardy: Europe's Beautiful Lake and Milan

Lake Como is Italy's third largest lake with an area of 146 sq.km. and over 400m deep.

We rented an apartment in Bellagio, a town across the lake from Varenna, where the trains from Milan discharge holiday makers who then walk five minutes to the ferry terminal for the 15 minute ride across the placid waters.

The only thing to do in Bellagio is to eat, drink and sleep. Unless ...

You rely on taxi service in Bellagio. There're only a few drivers so one needs to reserve the service. Otherwise, you wait...and wait, like we did.

A better way to enjoy Bellagio is, perhaps, to stay by the lake shore and use the ferries. Even better is to hire a car. And, how many days should one stay at Lake Como? Bellagio appears to be a very popular base for visits around the area. For us, two days gave us time to only visit the famous Melzi garden in Bellagio and to shop. To experience Lake Como nicely, I'd love to stay four or five days. There're nice towns to visit using the regular ferries. The Lombardy region has only a few white wines and maybe several more reds. A longer visit will certainly refresh.

There seems to be some good restaurants in Bellagio. I was impatient for dinner time. I reserved six places at Ittiturismo Pescaturismo Mella in San Giovanni. Here we are, at 7pm, admiring the views from San Giovanni, waiting for the restaurant to open its doors. The degustation menu better be good.

Our dinner that evening turned out to be a surprise. We had a whole trout freshly caught in the lake. It was so huge that we couldn't finish it. It was delisioso, as Italians say.

On the penultimate day of our Italian Vacation, we left by the 8.30am ferry and waited almost two hours in Varenna. It's another quaint city, nice to explore in.

Milan was our overnight stop and from here we said goodbye to Italy.

This time, we stayed in the Jewish Ghetto, thirty minutes from the tourist hubbub of activity. We paid €100 to sit on the decorated boat. Our gondolier was a young man, hardly the singer you would love to listen to. But we enjoyed our ride.

Taverna Al Remer is a cosy pub restaurant near Rialto Bridge, and it faces the Grand Canal (no views), but it's not easy to find. The food was delicious. We came here twice, and both times ordered the Spritz cocktail, a Venetian creation, it seems.

Our second day was designed to be one to get lost in Venice. As some in our group still didn't get used to the idea, we got lost in separate ways. Sim and I took ages to reach St Mark's Square. We met really nice locals whom we accosted to ask the way. An elderly lady practised her English on us, but it was a pity both sides were in a hurry.

So, what can I offer you about Venice?

a. As all references and guidebooks tell you, get lost. But, you must take time to do so. Never be in a hurry. In the process, speak with locals; many will say they don't speak English, but you meet very nice people.

b. Venice is one place one can ponder over what the whole purpose of travel is about. I sum it simply: to feel a place, not see it; to live it, not pass it; and, not to want to do something, but to collect in your memory bank the snapshot of time that you want to keep of a place forever.

c. Read a. again. No, really, get on the canals, ride the water buses, or taxis, or even the gondolas if you feel extravagant (which in Venice, you must), and get romantic. Watch the sunset, sip wine wine, eat crepe with ice cream.

d. Get to know a little of Venice's history and culture, even if only to find out that Marco Polo hailed from here.

e. Unless you come in summer (for those who love crowds), spend a little shopping money. In off season, shop assistants try very hard to get your business. They can be very nice.

4. Lombardy: Europe's Beautiful Lake and Milan

Lake Como is Italy's third largest lake with an area of 146 sq.km. and over 400m deep.

We rented an apartment in Bellagio, a town across the lake from Varenna, where the trains from Milan discharge holiday makers who then walk five minutes to the ferry terminal for the 15 minute ride across the placid waters.

The only thing to do in Bellagio is to eat, drink and sleep. Unless ...

You rely on taxi service in Bellagio. There're only a few drivers so one needs to reserve the service. Otherwise, you wait...and wait, like we did.

A better way to enjoy Bellagio is, perhaps, to stay by the lake shore and use the ferries. Even better is to hire a car. And, how many days should one stay at Lake Como? Bellagio appears to be a very popular base for visits around the area. For us, two days gave us time to only visit the famous Melzi garden in Bellagio and to shop. To experience Lake Como nicely, I'd love to stay four or five days. There're nice towns to visit using the regular ferries. The Lombardy region has only a few white wines and maybe several more reds. A longer visit will certainly refresh.

There seems to be some good restaurants in Bellagio. I was impatient for dinner time. I reserved six places at Ittiturismo Pescaturismo Mella in San Giovanni. Here we are, at 7pm, admiring the views from San Giovanni, waiting for the restaurant to open its doors. The degustation menu better be good.

Our dinner that evening turned out to be a surprise. We had a whole trout freshly caught in the lake. It was so huge that we couldn't finish it. It was delisioso, as Italians say.

On the penultimate day of our Italian Vacation, we left by the 8.30am ferry and waited almost two hours in Varenna. It's another quaint city, nice to explore in.

Milan was our overnight stop and from here we said goodbye to Italy.

Attractions in Georgetown, Penang

These places are definitely worth visiting if you're spending a few days in Georgetown:

1. Architectural splendor and heritage buildings, places of worship

In 1786,the British established their first colony in the Malay peninsular. Soon, there was an influx of Chinese, Indians and Arabs. Today, some of the colonial buildings remain. Many wealthy Chinese also left their mark in the form of grand mansions.

Francis Light first landed in the area where Fort Cornwallis stands. The British had to defend themselves against the French and the fort is complete with a chapel, a gunpowder magazine, cell rooms, flagstaff, harbour light and several cannons. It is also the biggest well-preserved fort in the country.

More on Fort Cornwallis

Khoo Kongsi Clan was one of five big clans in Georgetown, all Hokkien, deriving their origin in Fujian Provine, China. The clan house is one of the most magnificent in Southeast Asia.

Click here for more information.

Don't miss the Cheong Fatt Tze "Blue Mansion". It's now a museum and guided heritage tours are conducted daily.

Click here for more information.

The majority of Malaysians follow three of the world's great faiths: Islam, Buddhism and Hinduism; and, it seems, they are extremely tolerant about where they build their places of worship. My friend, Mr Wong, suggested that tourists visit Pitt Street. Here, a Chinese temple stands close to a mosque. Nearby is an old Anglican Church. (Click here for a good description of the history of this street and the places of worship.) An old synagogue can be found in Yahudi Road, and nearby is an Anglican Church.

2. Kek Lok Si in Ayer Itam: The Kek Lok Si temple is the most famous Chinese temple in Penang and one of the largest in Southeast Asia. Its construction started in the late 19th century.

More information can be found in the Tourism Malaysia website here.

3. Penang Hill

4. Botanical Gardens

5. Snake Temple: If you still haven't seen enough of temples, this one is for you. The temple is more than 200 years old and is located in Bayan Lepas on the way to the airport. If you aren't squeamish about clammy slithering reptiles, put one of the pit vipers round your shoulder. Don't worry about their venom. It has been removed, but don't take my word for it.

For more information, click here.

6.  Gurney Drive, a glutton's heaven

All visitors to Penang head for Gurney Drive to taste their favorite food. Penang has arguably the best cuisine in Malaysia. Penang laksa is the all time favourite, but you'll find countless varieties of mouth watering and cheap food to savor. Gurney Drive has its share of bars and nightlife.
Information on night life.

Attractions in Kuching, Sarawak

These are my three favourite attractions in Kuching:

1. Sarawak Cultural Village: combine a stay in a beach resort in Damai with a visit to this excellent attraction. Allow a minimum of half a day to examine the mock up houses of the main native groups in Sarawak and join in activities such as testing your skill with the blowpipe. Stay for dinner and watch a cultural performance. 
More on the Sarawak Cultural Village

2. Bako State Park: this is one of the smallest nature park in Malaysia, but also its prettiest in my view. Visitors get to enjoy rainforest, heath forest and beach in one place. Wildlife is abundant: at dawn, monitor lizards enter the mangrove areas to fish, while the unique proboscis monkeys emerge to feed on top of the mangrove plants. Try and stay overnight to enjoy these shows of nature. It is recommended to contact the park office to enquire about the condition and availability of the chalets.

More on the Bako State Park

3. Kuching Waterfront: a relaxing day in Kuching can be had by strolling in the riverbank of the Sarawak River, watching the world go by. (More on the Kuching Waterfront)

Nearby are quaint shophouses where you can hunt for souvenirs. Once, I bought a hand made rattan mat and I was very pleased with this purchase. If you have cash to spend, this is the place to buy bird's nest, a delicacy harvested from the spit of swallows. But, shop around and avoid scammers and touts.

More on What to Do in Kuching

Tip: if you wish to see the world's largest flower, call up the relevant offices to check if the flower is in bloom. 
Read about the Gunung Gading National Park

Management Minute: Don't rush your decisions, but be decisive!

Not so long ago, I observed a situation in which inexperience and haste created a situation akin to one where, as the saying goes, the horse has bolted.

The manager undervalued the services of an employee and tried to nullify his employment contract. He offered a new remuneration package that was so humiliating that the employee felt offended and announced his decision to quit the job.

Meanwhile the manager started making inquiries of other staff to see if someone could take over the duties of the staff who was quitting. Unfortunately, it didn't appear that anyone could, or was willing to, do so.

If the inexperienced manager had reversed the order in which he executed the intended changes, and had been a bit calmer, he may not have to face the resulting chaos.

Indecision and haste often are buddy friends. They wreck organizations and relationships. By all means, be decisive, but never be hasty.

One Hour's Zip Through Life

Pastor Keo Joseph asked me to  speak to his students. He rents a house to accommodate 20 students from the provinces so they can study in the big city and belong to one family. I feel honored to be asked. I met them last week and everyone wanted me to advise them

Posing with some of Pastor Joe's Charges

what university course to take. Naturally, they should figure that out themselves. But, no, they genuinely wanted someone, like me, who had gone through nearly the whole 'life process', as it were, to tell them.

This bird's eye view, from the restaurant where I ate breakfast this morning, lent me the imagination I needed to think up materials for my talk today. Looking towards the horizon, you make out three prominent features: the green patch, the stately buildings, and the soon-to-be tallest city building. These, to me, represent power and wealth. And their opposites.

The green patch was once a lake. It was filled up, residents around its shores driven away with or without compensation (depending on how connected they were). It's now divided up and pieces are sold to large foreign companies. It is multi-billion dollar business and a quantum leap to riches.

Moving your eyes to the right, you can just about see two large buildings, reminiscent

Monivong Boulevard, the high street, is on the right

of grey government buildings in communist-block countries, or even in Tokyo. The prime minister works in the one on the right. Apparently, the Chinese built for free the one on the left.

Then, you can't miss the new city landmark, the Vattanak building, next to the Canadia Bank Building. The owner must be very rich.

The gist of my hour-long talk will run like this:

One's life is divided into a few distinct stages. 

Until you can think and decide for yourself, you're like a sponge, absorbing anything and everything. Parents always leave a legacy behind. Children are almost always mirror images of their parents. And, that is why parenting is such a heavy responsibility. As a parent, the biggest gift to your children will last forever. In my case, I've only begun to understand why I behave the way I am. A gift I always treasure from my parents: the belief that education is the key to succeeding in life, and the beauty of kindness. 

When you reach the mid teens, you realise there are decisions to be made. Or, life decisions are made for you. You begin to influence what happens. You sit for exams. You begin to dream. Do you wish to grow up to be a teacher? What about becoming a doctor? Of course, some dreams drop off on the way. There was no way I could become a space astronaut, a nuclear scientist, a smooth-talking lawyer. It became natural for me to want to be an engineer, and, by the time I was 20, I was pushed to become a mechanical engineer. I've only just realized that I had been observing my father when he operated and repaired machinery. I grew up admiring his skills. Subconsciously, I wanted to be able to repair machines. (Today, I firmly believe that if I had not been watching my father at work, I would not study mechanical engineering. What conclusion does that lead one to make? Life's choices are often made without a reason. It might as well be luck, or accident, that determines your future. If your parents are well known lawyers, you may not even have a choice of what course to study. Your career would be made for you.)

If one's parents are poor, you'll hardly likely be allowed to choose which school or university to enroll in. Having wealthy relatives could change that. But that is again luck. One thing though that is not quite derived from luck is the degree of one's motivation. How is one motivated? Here, I must introduce the building blocks of a person's character. (I purposely leave out religion. Religion is not my forte.) We all have a character. It's like a potter moulding a beautiful jar. Components of our character, whether good r bad, are formed. I've mentioned the role of parents leaving a legacy. A huge chunk of our character s already formed. But now, as we increasingly spend time with friends, another form of moulding happens. This can even wipe out the original shape of our character. This is a vital stage. It helps that that character you're forming includes attributes of patience, curiosity, energy and passion, and wisdom. What do we wish, if we can have a wish now? I say: develop sterling values. Develop integrity. Earn a reputation. This must be the starting point of a person's adult life and what he will become.

Does it matter what course you choose? Of course it does! But, as you walk through the rooms of life, you realize that in each room, you need to change your clothes. You realize that a degree is like a key to a doorway. Life becomes what you make of it. What do you do in that room?nOften, I wonder if my engineering degree is a hindrance and not quite the passport to success we think it is. 

One of the best advice I took was this: Do the right thing! It wasn't about doing things right. What's the difference? Lets spend some time discussing this as knowing this can make or break one's career, or worse, wreak a life.

The prime of one's life approaches. You've now spend many years working. You don't feel you can slow down. You've a good pay. You're valued at work. 

I've learnt that nothing is permanent. I mean it. The best thing you can do when you're at the peak of your career is to leave your comfort zone. No dramas. Just go. I've had my regrets not doing so. I'm happy to share life episodes when that happened. 

Learning point? At the peak, a fall is next. 

Its corollary? Never leave a job when you're in the doldrums. 

Ah, retirement. That's beckoning me. It came without warning. The end of the mining boom in Australia killed jobs. I was one of those early birds who were made redundant. I was determined not to be upset. I spent a year walking the Bibbulmun Track, a 1,000 km walking track connecting Perth to Albany in Western Australia. I was glad I did it. I spent many hours in the cumulative six weeks of walking to reflect on life and its next phase. I realized I wanted to live in Asia, perhaps not permanently, but at least for a while to relearn what being an Asian meant. What have I found out? I've lots to share.

Throughout this hour, zipping through the stages in life, changes were inevitable. Yet, it is against our nature to change. Change has been the biggest challenge. My advice is to thrive on change. Occasionally, take a reality check. Am I resisting change? Am I using tradition or even culture to boost my ego and say, if it ain't broke, don't fix it?

I consider myself lucky, going through life like riding a breeze. (Okay, I know that's an exaggeration.) I can't assume this will go on. Perhaps, two thirds of life remain. A fulfilling one, I hope.

Exploring Cantonese Cuisine in Phnom Penh

Today, June 2, 2014, Chinese the world over celebrate Dumpling Festival (端午节). It commemorates righteousness and love for country and people, virtues sadly lacking today. (http://gintai.wordpress.com/2014/06/01/happy-dumpling-festival-%E7%AB%AF%E5%8D%88%E8%8A%82-%E5%BF%AB%E4%B9%90%EF%BC%81-2/)

Hamyook Chung containing melted pork, egg yolk and sticky rice

Craving tongshui or sweet broth (糖水) and wanting to meet as many Cantonese residents as I could, we followed Ah Giu, our cook, on a culinary tour of Orussey Market.

At our first stop, my heart sank as the famous tongshui stall was closed. The stall holder was celebrating the dumpling festival. Not to let our spirits sink, Ah Giu suggested we patronize the famous porridge shop. Along the way to the shop, we passed by eating shops you wouldn't imagine existed in Phnom Penh: they were as Cantonese as any culinary corner of Hong Kong could be.

Chives cakes

No tongshui today!!

They were selling chives cake, soya milk, wantan noodle, and ... the famous kap tai chook, a rice porridge peppered with entrails of pig and enriched with crunchy octopus. Each small bowl cost us $2 but it was worth the expensive price we paid. (For a lengthier account of Cantonese food and porridge, read http://simply888here.blogspot.com/2014/02/hong-kong-day-22.html.)

Ah Giu introduced me to Cantonese residents patronizing or making a living around Orussey Market. I was thorn among the roses as obviously Ah Giu was a regular among the womenfolk here. My Khmer vocabulary also grew as I memorized pretty lady, nice dress, beautiful hat, and other attention-catching phrases. 

The highlight of the day was of course eating the humble dumpling, representing the doughty human spirit. Each year, Ah Giu's cousins send out a registration of interest to their relatives and friends to indicate the number of dumplings they wished to order. I was fortunate to be invited, and so I could lay my hands and taste buds on two of the best hamyook chung ever encountered. (Incidentally, Mr Li had bought from the local supermarket several dumplings made in Taiwan and when I tried them this morning, I could feel the difference between heaven and earth - the imported variety used dried ham (replacing the delicious fatty pork) that tasted like leather, egg yolk that felt like antacid tablets being crunched, and sticky rice that had a constituency not unlike thick glue.)

Another shop sold mung bean dumpling. The only shop in Phnom Penh to do so, the owners have raised several generations of families just selling these delicious dumplings.

Delicious mung bean dumpling

The best dumpling and traditional Cantonese food can be found in the most unlikely places in Southeast Asia if you know where or how to look. Phnom Penh can offer surprises!

Surviving on $40 a month

In our hotel lounge, the resident Filipino singer was reliving her relief at being given a contract extension in the coming rainy season which sees very low occupancy. Besides her pay, she gets free meals and a roof over her head. Without work in Phnom Penh, even for a day, she would wonder if she could pay her bills. Here in Sihanoukville, the cost of living is lower than in Phnom. Penh.

People visiting a Sihanoukville market: not poor by average standards

As we carried on talking about the cost of living, I wondered why - and how - some Cambodians get by with just a $40 monthly wage. Surely, they must face extreme poverty? Is it any wonder that families, to supplement their income, send their kids out to beg or to dust the windscreens of cars, or even cling dangerously to wing mirrors, so drivers have to give in and dish out 25 cents? A decent meal, by local standards, costs a dollar, so a very poor family cannot eat in even the road side stall. 

Just a few fishes a day to feed this family in the Gulf of Thailand

This must be the subsistence living, or living from hand to mouth, that we learnt about in school. I think it is still widespread in the bigger Cambodian cities as well as in provinces where land for agriculture has been carte blanche ceded to large investors who then plant commercial crops which need much less labour to farm. I think the country, or the majority of the people, is getting poorer, while the wealth that originates from this fertile land shifts by chunks to the rich.

I worry about as yet an unrecognized danger. It seems to me that sugar consumption is very high in Cambodia. Is it because sweetened foods and drinks provide pleasure and can actually be a drug for the poor while masquerading as a normal condiment or a cool drink? As Cambodians assume a more sedentary lifestyle,  I fear obesity and the illnesses associated with it will hurt society. 

Rural Cambodia, the last frontier

Despite Phnom Penh's fast growth pace  and Siem Reap's huge success as a tourist magnet because of its iconic Angkor Wat, Cambodia is still a very rural country. Arguably, better roads and new Chinese-built bridges will lead to faster urbanisation. 

For the tourist wanting to walk off the beaten path, opportunities abound. But the journey can be back-breaking.

First, The Ugly Chinese Abroad

Last Valentine's Day, I was queuing to buy my bus ticket to Stung Treng and a man at the head of the next line was speaking loudly in Chinese and hitting his knuckles against the glass counter. He kept saying the word stupid to the girl manning the counter. I said to the man:

Why are you scolding her?

I'm not scolding her. I'm merely saying she's stupid. She doesn't understand I want a window seat.

Look, she can't understand Chinese and you can't speak Khmer. How can she understand you?

That's why she is stupid.

I'm sorry, but I have to give you this advice: why don't you ask someone who speaks Chinese and Khmer to help you. If you continue to raise your voice at her, I will wish I don't have anything to do with being Chinese.

Are you Chinese?

No, I'm Malaysian.

This story has a good ending. In front of me, a local had looked on and until then hadn't uttered a word. He could speak English, and when three men used a combination of three languages, the angry man calmed down, realizing the girl had already given him a window seat.

The CNN had once portrayed that an ugly tourist makes places "bend" to his will. More than simply just being rich, it's making the place one visits accommodate one's tastes, or disrespecting local customs. 

Has the mantel or stereotype the Americans held been finally replaced by the Chinese?

Stung Treng, My Destination

Phnom Penh to Stung Treng, 348 km by road. Shorter by river!

I was going to Stung Treng, a provincial capital town, only 70 km from the Laos border.

I think Stung Treng is as rural as one can get when traveling in Cambodia. Things to do here are biking along the banks of the Mekong and taking a boat to the Laos border to see the Irrawaddy dolphin and admire waterfalls on the Laos side of the border.

But, It's the Journey

At an average speed of 50 km/hr, it's easy to imagine that my destination would take a long time to reach, or 13 hours to be exact. There were several refreshment stops, and near the major towns, passengers were allowed to board or disembark. Every two hours or so, guys were able to signal the driver to stop so we could pee on the wheels if we wanted to (I saw someone doing it). 

Snuon Stol was a stop over point for a meal. On my return journey, I bought chempedak and coconut, but the drink lady was on both trips nice enough to let me fill my thermos. This town is near Mondolkiri, a remote region with a national park.

Kratie was reached in 9 hours. This is the most popular tourist stop and playground of sorts. An American girl takes tourists on kayaking trips to spot Irrawaddy dolphins. An NGO had started an adventure trail linking the town to Stung Treng, 140km away, on which one can ride a push bike or a boat, or walk. I was curious to find out if there existed a best kept hiking track in Asia. From the fact that the organisation that ran the promotion no longer maintained its website, I wasn't hopeful.

Soon after passing Kratie, I was photographing sunset through my window. The road was bad in sections and the bus slowed often to 30km or a crawl. By then, the air conditioner wasn't effective, and the dust that speeding vehicles kicked up was disturbing us so that the rear windows had to be opened.

Friendly People

Without a doubt, rural Cambodians are among the most friendly people in the world. They smile a lot. They also consume a lot of sugar, so I worry for them. A woman sat next to me, carrying a 24 month old infant. She was born premature. I was take aback when she showed me an energy drink and asked if it was alright to feed her child with it. I said in Chinese that she should not. This Cambodian woman earned about $500 per month in a shoe factory in Phnom Penh and her Taiwanese manager liked showering her with candies.

 To reduce the boredom, I struck up a conversation with a girl seated in front of me. At one of the stops, she ran after a monk to give him the equivalent of 25 cents. I asked her why she did it. Her reply was that she used to do this a few times a year. She even stood barefooted in front of the monk.

A Rare Find

A French Tourism NGO had set up Le Tonle, a training centre to teach young people how to run a hotel and tourist programme. When the mototaxi dropped me at its doorsteps at 9pm after a wrong turn, I was welcomed by Pech, the assistant local coordinator. At 24 and studying management at the local university, Pech seemed eager to show me the town.

Judging by the good manners and smiles, I was convinced the classes attended by the dozen or so Le Tonle trainees were having positive results. I was shown to the Ratanakiri Room, one of four with either single or double beds, sleeping 10 guests in all. A mosquito net hung over each bed. My room and the shared bathroom were spotlessly clean. I only had steamed rice and vegetable soup that night. It was a delicious meal. I slept very well.

Stung Treng had potential as a rural tourist town: it had village appeal.

Pech spoke good English. He was my guide the next day. Late into the previous  night, we discussed our plans. I took his advice to explore villages, and visit a silk factory and the sticky rice trail.

At sunrise, I was riding pillion along the river to Srey Krosant Village. We passed Preah Bat and Koh Sampea where villagers had already begun life that day, women were cooking and men (I also spotted one group of women) were warming themselves in the mid 20's temperature, beside smoky fires. In a vegetable garden, a woman was doing the day's watering using large metal cans hung on each end of a pole. I liked the Cambodian village scene.

The Sticky Rice Trail



My pushbike ride along the Mekong started with a seven-km easy jaunt to Mekong Blue, a cooperative by the Sekong River, started 10 years ago. It harnessed disadvantaged women to produce beautiful silk textiles for tourists who come a-calling or to be sent by road to a Phnom Penh outlet at an international hotel.

Silkworms are reared and silk cocoons harvested, processed, dyed and turned into beautiful silks. I was looking for a necktie that would make a difference: wearing a genuine  made-in-Cambodia accessory, and I picked one with an Ikat design.  I also bought a scarf for Sim. I was told it took three weeks to make. 

Recently, it opened a centre to also  house divorced women with small children.

After crossing Sekong Bridge, we arrived at Kankoban. We were lucky to find a family making sticky rice (krolan). This must be the most laborious food preparation I ever saw. First, rice soaked overnight with a pea was stuffed in foot long bamboo and coconut milk added. A bit of coconut meat was used to simply stop dirt from entering. This was cooked a few hours over a fire. The burnt bamboo tube was then shaved and thinned so one could peel it off to eat fragrant cooked rice. Each was sold for between 60 cents and a dollar. It was delicious.

The next stop on our cycling route was the Pum Thmay Village where the Mekong Bird Resort was situated. Boats here took tourists to an island where I was told there were hiking opportunities.

The Cassava Brigade

In my travel in rural Cambodia, I wanted to photograph children at play. But this morning, an idyllic vision was shattered. Here's how:

In Phnom Krahong, I saw a small group of mainly women, and children, bent, hard at work, using machetes to repeatedly chop something. Then I realized they were cutting cassava into small pieces. I snapped a few photographs of people at work, although it wasn't quite 8am. They looked happy when looking into my camera. As I rode on, I realized this was a cottage industry. Whole families, including small children of course, were in their yards, chopping up cassava and then spreading them up to dry by the sides of the road. I saw a few trucks on their way to collect the dried tuber, stuffed in large blue sacks. I saw several godowns, and in one, a towkeh was directing his workers stacking the sacks, presumably to be ready for sending to a factory to be processed into food additives, glue, or whatever use industry has thought of using the starch.

It was with mixed feelings when I reflected on the plight of these children. Most probably they weren't going to school. (Today, Saturday, is a school day here.) Yet, rural families need the income of 20 cents per Kg of dried cassava to live. 

I don't doubt it's a good industry, but children need to be in school.

Houses with a view

It seems ironic that tourism in Cambodia is less developed than in Laos. When our bus

stopped every two hours to let us go for a pee, I wonder if over the border, women needed to feel the same loss of privacy as those in my rickety bus did today. But I digress. I want really to write about the tourism potential i saw on the banks of the Mekong.

Yesterday, my guide pointed out a delapidated Khmer house he wanted to convert into a lodge and a piece of prime camping ground that could very well be what the banks of the Swan in Peppermint Grove in Western Australia looked like before the first mansions were built 100 years ago.

The houses we pedaled past were wooden instead of brick. Some were mere shacks. (Think of the beach shacks.) The only English the kids knew was the hello word that they greeted me if they were not up the tree already concentrating on picking the milk fruit, or if they weren't planing wood on what I thought was a dangerous machine. But the water views...

From what I read about the 4000 islands on the same

Mekong just a few km across the border, the region is an extremely popular tourist playground. 

Now if these Khmer houses with a view are made into lodges, and if Pech, my guide, realizes his dream, I envision the Mekong Row, not of millionaires perhaps, but of chalets for hikers served by the first exclusive walking path. The authorities it seems had seen some tourism potential but their idea seemed to be to replace the laterite road with an all-weather one, and who knows, may give in to greed and take over the houses with a view to build hotels.