The Adventures of Mavis

The life and times of someone who fiercely believes in feminism, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and that you can write for a living.

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Picking a Flat (ie gaining a debt)

A month ago - a day over a month ago, actually - I took AM leave and went with Winston to pick our HDB flat. I felt quite ambivalent about it, actually - the higher floors were all taken up, and we were left with 6th-storey and 7th-storey flats of the good blocks, and the 8th-storey flat in a block with a lousy view.

He came to my house early in the morning and we looked through the documents and signed some of them, and he ate a lot of stuff - mainly the Japanese biscuits my brother’d brought home. And then he drove us to the HDB HQ, where we got our queue number and then waited for our turn. As we waited, we looked at the model again. I felt kinda annoyed that so many people had taken the higher storeys; our queue number was 135, we ought to have been left with good choices.

Our number was called. We headed for the office and the officer who was going to help us was a nice lady, Muslim and patient. And we chose... the 6th storey, even though the 7th storey was available. I actually wanted the higher storey, but I was hesitant about the number 7 because it’s not a good number in Chinese. I didn’t want to be all superstitious about it though, so I was prepared to take it. However, Winston said that if we were to sell the flat, buyers who were superstitious and believed in fengshui and the lot wouldn’t want a unit on the 7th floor. So that left us with the 6th floor. And to be perfectly honest, I didn’t sign on the paper without some sort of reluctance.

(As I signed, Winston said, “Your signature is nice.”

I replied, “Thanks. It’s quite complicated and hard to forge -”

“Here’s the part,” he interjected, “where you say, ‘Yours is nice too.’”

The officer and I laughed.)

We also opted in for all the furnishings and everything, though now I’m thinking I might have made a mistake on the bathroom - because what if they didn’t add a ledge? Or if they installed - gasp - curtains instead?! Oh well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, I suppose.

The price was extremely, extremely high as well. You wouldn’t believe how high the price was. So now I’m saddled with a debt. I mean, I know that the plan was to make us all own houses, so that we would have a sense of belonging and take better care of the place. But we’re born and bred here, and to make us work for decades to pay off our housing loans? I mean, if you’re going to raise the prices of HDB flats so stupendously high, at least make sure that the median wages of fresh faces in the workforce match up! You’re going on and on about increasing our population and marrying early, and yes I understand that we don’t have to make sure our lives are all fine and dandy before starting a family, but it’s lousy to be 25 and have to share the burden of a S$600K loan. And that’s before I even have a kid to worry about.

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Spirited Away

I rewatched this anime at least 6 years after my last rewatch, and it was as beautiful as ever. I don’t know if it’s a side-effect of being a quarter-century-old, but everything seemed cuter than it was when I last watched it at 19. Chihiro crying while stuffing her mouth with the ricecakes, Boh as a mouse, even the irritating mini Yubaba-bird-as-a-fly. So. Adorable. When they ran that spinning wheel like it was an exercise wheel, when mouse Boh touched the slug remnants, etc.

But what really took the cake was when my brother and his girlfriend got home. My brother had never seen the movie, and when he first came in, he had loads of questions: Is he (Kamaji) a monster? Why does he have so many legs? What is that (the dragon that was Haku)? What are those things (the soot balls)? Why is her (Yubaba’s) nose so big? It was pretty annoying but at times really funny, like when the fake Boh turned back into the three ugly men-heads, and he said, “Huh?” I laughed so much at that. And he was very curious about Zenibah, and super grossed out with No-Face, and he kept asking and asking, so I gave him the low-down on what happened previously. I remember feeling very smug when he saw the lantern with the foot (which reminded me forcibly of Pixar’s lamp) and said it was cool. And then he said that he read the synopsis of the movie but he still didn’t get it HAHA.

In any case, I intend to rewatch/ watch the other Hayao Miyazaki films henceforth!

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Day 11: Bath

I realised I’d never written much about Bath, and truth be told most of the details have long faded, so I thought I’d better get that down before anything else slips my mind.

I got to Bath on a train and I think this was the one I had trouble on - I had to switch trains at a station - to one that was on the opposite platform, but I misheard and I ran alllll the way to another platform only to find out that I was actually supposed to head just opposite, so I had to run allll the way back again. Geez, what a waste of time and breath.

When I finally reached Bath, I exited the station, and then slowly walked my way towards town. I don’t think I’d bought the bus pass for this one. I remember walking down this alley, and then coming across a small sweet shop selling fudge. Went in shameless for a free sample, and then found myself in the very busy square. I remember standing there wonderingly, recalling how I was there almost four years ago, and how much I loved the bustling activity and wishing I had more time there (we’d covered Windsor that morning, and did the Roman Baths in the early afternoon, and still had to rush off to Stonehenge before heading back to London). It was pretty surreal being back again. I then walked to this pie shop which was apparently really famous? I got some apple sort of pie with meat and then started my walk towards the Prior Park Landscaping Garden, which had the bridge that made me want to visit Bath to begin with.

The walk was longer than I’d expected. I had to walk by a residential area and finished the pie long before I’d gotten out of that housing estate. And then I had to plod up a steep slope - which meant perspiring and panting and generally glaring with envy at people who were tripping down carelessly. When I got to the top, I realised with a start that I had to pay to get in. Who knew?! I thought it was like a public park. But no, they needed funds to restore the park to its former glory. And I’d climbed too high to stinge over 7 quid, so there’s that. I handed over the money and asked for an extra map to keep, and got in.

The park was very very charming. A family entered the park right after I did, several adults with some children. I was hoping they’d move fast but as with most families with children, they were slow. So I set off quickly, not wanting to waste too much time, and when I came to a house which was meant for visitors that had a creaky door, I stepped in (like, literally stepped in, without moving far from the door), and then ducked back out into the welcome sunshine within 10 seconds.

I made my way through a path and came to the top, where there was a lovely breathtaking gorgeous view of the city below, and behind me was a posh-looking building which turned out to be the Prior Park College. I spent way too much time taking pictures of the view and taking selfies, because I’m just super unphotogenic that way. I did feel abashed and stopped when a couple of oldies showed up, having walked up the slope from below, and sat on a nearby bench.

And then I continued down the path, only to double back to see the ruins of some temple (which was nothing much). Then I headed onwards, dropping my selfie-stick in the dirt to my dismay. I came across a reconstructed lodge of sorts and explored a little, and thank goodness it was a day with strong sunlight because if not, being all alone in such a heavily wooded area could have been a little scary.

Anyway, I went on to the next viewpoint and snapped many a lovely shot. Then headed downhill, and at the bottom of the hill and park was the quaint bridge that I saw in the Google pic that moved my heart and made me decide that going to Bath was more important than returning to the Harry Potter Warner Brothers studios. It was just as charming in real life, and I also took many shots.

I also saw the ruins of an ice house, and basically there were many signs in the park stating that they were hoping to reconstruct all these old buildings some day (because after the original owner who built it up so nicely and invited loads of folks over for parties had passed on, the place had fallen into disrepair). And then I walked one round around the lake, past this really disgusting place with a heck lot of flies, and past a dispense with some kind of feed for the swans I think, which some woman had bought and was feeding the swans, and then I snapped still more pictures of the bridge again. I went on the bridge, and saw evidence that people in the 1800s loved stating that they were at a certain place as much as the modern person graffities “so and so was here”.

Anyway, then I headed out of the park but passed by this small shop, and so I bought a tiny hedgehog soft toy cos it was cute! I made some small talk with the elderly shop owner cos I was terribly thirsty and was gulping down some water, and then he took out a massive bottle to show me that he too was hydrating himself well, haha.

I walked out of the park and I remember an old man also left about the same time as me. I reached the town centre much more quickly, passing by some really nice private houses.

Then I ate at the number one cheap eatery in Bath, which wasn’t even English food HAHA. It was called Chai Walla and it sold Indian street food. I got some sort of a spicy chicken in a wrap, and while eating it I wandered into the nearby Tesco’s (or was it Sainsbury’s or even Waitrose?) and then proceeded to sit at a bench near the square. But then I realised I was wasting valuable time just sitting at a random spot when I could have been exploring more, so I walked to Pulteney Bridge, where I took a leisurely stroll around the water and sat at one of the benches under the trees, just at peace with the world.

And then I wasted quite a lot of time dithering over what to do next. I went to Sally Lunn’s shop and museum, and I went to the museum below (which was really just a woman at a counter with a small fridge full of jars of spreads, and boxes and boxes of the Lunn buns, plus a set-up of an old-time bakery and some leaflets to explain the history of this place. It was interesting. I bought a bun and a spread which was probably some kind of a cocoa butter spread, thinking I could share it with Stephers the next morning (which I did, on Cambridge day).

After Sally Lunn’s shop, I headed to the Fudge factory, where I watched them make fudge from scratch on the marble slab. The fudge was being done by a female staff who apparently got the job just a mere 7 days ago, and her superiors were super chill about her doing everything on her own. I ate many many free sample and they all made my throat hurt, so I didn’t get them haha.

Then I went to the Bath souvenir shop and got a book on the Roman baths, as well as a coin set again (this time for my brother). And then I kept wondering whether I should head to the Royal Crescent or go to the Roman baths. I’d set off for the Royal Crescent when I finally changed my mind and paid to go into the baths for the second time.

The second time was as good as the first time - and I say that because I can’t remember anything about the first time. I’d had an audio guide previously, too, but somehow I’d clean forgot anything I’d learnt. I joined the guided tour as well at 4pm sharp, if I recall correctly, and the guide was rather informative. After the tour, I stayed behind and listened to practically all the audio guide numbers, and also took selfies with the people working there dressed as Romans from the past. I also tried the sulphuric water from the running tap which they’d installed, and it was warm and smelly.

I didn’t get to see everything, but they chased me out at the closing time. Then I rannnnn all the way to the Circus, where i snapped pictures of the trees in the middle of the roundabout, and ran still some more to the Royal Crescent, which was somehow a lot less impressive than I’d remembered (I’d first passed by it 4 years ago on a tour bus). There was a field in front of the Crescent and there were many people chilling there, lucky folks. As for me, once I’d snapped a selfie at the Crescent (if anything, just to prove that I did go there again), I sprinted back to the station, praying that I wouldn’t miss the train. I remember reaching there with plenty of time and wanting to get a Starbucks which was on the same level as the platform - so weird, right? I mean, who sets up a cafe in a place limiting itself to a certain type of customers (in this case, customers who are waiting for the train) - and I queued, but then I think I saw the barrista sneeze and I felt grossed out, so I just gave up and waited for the train.

After reaching London, I decided to walk to Goldmine because it was the last time I could have that (somehow less delicious than I’d remembered) duck rice before leaving. I reached it, and I do believe that I was reading The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time when I was eating my rice.

And then I took a selfie with a red telephone box while on my way to Bayswater station, and I went back to Steph’s place!

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The Miserable Meal

I found the food diary that I’d kept when I was taking a module called the Sociology of Food in university, and it’s inspired me to write about the food I ate during my weekend trip to Lyon with my friend Steph.

You’d think in France, we wouldn’t have a problem finding food. And it did seem so at first. I saw a Relay outlet at the train station near our hotel, and got all excited because I subsisted on ham & cheese Relay baguettes when in Disneyland for two days and I thought it to be Da Bomb, cos it was cheap and it tasted great. But when I checked out the baguettes in these relay outlets, they were more expensive than I'd remembered so I wasn't about to buy one. Moreover, I thought perhaps it was cheap only relative to Disneyland food, and possibly delicious because we were ravenous. We got some recommendations from the hotel staff (who introduced us to some apparently local food such as salade lyonnaise, somethingorother lyonnaise, some frog leg sort of dish, and Tarte tatin) and set off, opting to take the bus. HOWEVER, we ran into some trouble regarding our unvalidated tickets (we’re tourists! We don’t know anything about your transport system, you bunch of corrupted, money-faced conductors), and when we got to the first restaurant, we were told that it was fully booked. They recommended us another restaurant a few streets down, so that’s where we headed, and we realised to our delight that this was a Michelin starred restaurant! But it was full too, no surprises there. On the bright side (or maybe not, given what happened after), we could make a reservation for dinner so that’s what we did.

After that, we headed for the other side of the town where there was a restaurant that Steph’s friend recommended. When we got there, it was half empty so we trooped in, thankful that we would be getting a meal at last, but oh no! They were closed!

So we traipsed through the streets, more or less having given up on getting a proper meal and just banking on being served a gastronomical dinner. We passed several chocolatiers and patisseries, and we got one macaron each, while I got a Nutella crepe and Steph got some weird chocolate pudding.

We visited a church (where we took pictures with mops of hair in front of our faces - well, Steph’s face, really. She started a fashion trend) and went to see the Roman ruins (these were the ruins that made me set my sights on Lyon. I have to say that they were not THAT impressive; I was hoping for more artefacts).

We headed back to the middle island, where we strolled around and looked for other rpotential restaurants or ice-cream parlours to try, and then window-shopped at this interesting shop which sells pasta making machines and other food wares.

We then trudged to the restaurant. We stopped by an Italian restaurant that appeared to have many accolades. It was completely empty as it wasn't opened for business yet, and when we went in the snooty angmoh seemed very reluctant to serve us and he very quickly told us that it was fully booked. Then we entered the restaurant we reserved. The waitress remembered Steph’s name, which was very sweet and welcoming. She then proceeded to give us the low-down on the menu, and we decided we’d order the Salade Lyonnaise, which was one of Lynn’s specialties, and then the quenelle.

The Salade Lyonnaise was good! I finished almost everything, except for the fatty parts of the meat. Steph suddenly asked if there was alcohol in the dish, and I said I couldn't taste any. She then clarified that she thought so cos I was very red in the face, hahaha. It was only after the mentioned that I realised that hey, yeah, she was kinda pink too. Next came the quenelle. It looked interesting, like two big buns in some gravy that looked like curry. And given my Singaporean food-loving heart, I thought it looked good - I always dip my bread in curry anyway.

So I took a bit of the bun, only to realise that it was not bread. It was meat, but the processed kind. Something quite like fish cakes. The quenelle came with a bowl of rice, which I took only a few spoonfuls of. The gravy with the rice was good, but to eat the deceptively-bun-looking fishcakey was really tough. I didn’t even finish half when I decided to cut my losses, as it were.

We asked for the cheese, just a small mouthful. One was cheese with garlic, and the other was cheese to be eaten with sugar. Mine was the sugar one, and we didn’t manage to finish the sample-sized ones we were given.

So then last was ice-cream. Ah! How can you go wrong with ice-cream? We were so thrilled! Here, we'd be stepping on home ground, especially with my one year's experience of working at an ice-cream parlour. We confidently asked for the next course. ... Only to find a blood red sort of sorbet being set in front of us. Berries. I ordinarily like berries; Steph does not. Both of us didn't like this one: it was so sour that we had to grimace after each tiny spoonful. Although to be fair, as Steph said, it truly does clear the palate.

After that we were full and really quite nauseated from the meal, so I suggested walking home (also because I was keen to avoid a run-in with those carrion conductors). It was a long walk back, down dark streets that were at times slightly alarming, but not without beauty - the view across the river was lovely. And then we went back to our room and collapsed.

The next morning (after a pretty decent night's sleep notwithstanding dusty pillows with a singular strand of pubic hair beneath them) we were determined to not be caught off guard by poor food choices, so we spent a looong time asking the concierge (same dude as the previous morning) about places to go for breakfast and also some places of interest to visit (Steph researched on some special underpass thingamajigs and a fountain). He was superbly industrious and kept googling, and even printed out places to go. Trouble is, he was a little slow because he was very thorough, so he gave us many many choices and kept some guests waiting for their cab.

We wanted to check out a genuine patisserie for breakfast, and avoid the carrion again, so we took the scuttle service (ie our legs) to where the shop was. Only we never made it there. We got distracted by a row of cars parked outside an industrial looking building that I thought was a car showroom, but it was really an indoor market, something like the Takashimaya food hall you'd see in Japan. There were many people doing their marketing there, and we oohed and ahhed at some of the patisseries, which had macarons. We decided to buy two petit caneles and one medium sized tarte tatin, and we got the shopkeeper to cut the tart in half so we could share. The petit canele had a texture a little like niangao, and it also had alcohol, according to Steph. And the tarte tatin was good! I liked it, as it was sweet.

We then walked further along, and we came across a small local and quiet bakery with tarts of many different kind. They had a mini range of tarts, and we thought it would be good to get those because then we'd be able to try a huge variety! I mistakenly took the price per mini-tart to be €0,50, and of course our auntie souls were delighted. We plotted to get about four mini tarts each, only to realise that actually each tart was €1,10. Not. Cheap. So then we cut it down to two tarts per pax. I chose the meringue looking one, plus one with three raspberries. Steph, on the other hand, went with a walnut one plus the famous praline tart we've been seeing everywhere. We then painstakingly divided each tart into halves so we could sample all four. The lemon meringue tart was great, as was the praline one (although the pink still scares me off). The raspberry one was not bad, and the walnut was great.

By the time we'd finished, we reached the pharmacy of the previous night (where I found a toothpaste that was named Marvin and where there was the slowest. Moving. Queue. Ever.). Turn out it was just round the corner of the chocolate ball shop the concierge recommended and we went in for a look. It seemed very atas! We took one each of the bestselling chocolate ball, then happily guzzled it down. It was sweet, so I liked it. We then nosed about at Starbucks cos I wanted to check out their cards (none were on display) and Steph considered buying some packages of caneles but decided against it. We then went to see the fountain, which was under maintenance. They'd removed all the figurines.

Then we went to see the special underpasses (for the life of me I cannot remember what they were called), and discovered a funky staircase that was apparently a tourist attraction and we stumbled upon it like the blurkids we are. There, Steph was shocked by the quickness at which an old man and his ladder elevated themselves. Because I hadn't realised what we'd seen WERE the underpasses, I made us climb all the way up the hill, until we got to the newer part of town where the residences were.

We took a walk, exploring the street markets and taking pictures with strawberries and a shopkeeper who wanted to mime poking Steph's cheek (don't ask us why).

We then decided to eat at one of the first cafés we saw. We were given the French menu where we only recognised confit and profiterole. We tried to order but the server thought we wanted English menus, so he brought us two, only these English menus had no profiteroles in them. So when we ordered we asked them for profiteroles as our dessert. I ordered the confit and Steph the salade lyonnaise (again). It was my second duck confit on the trip and the better one (although both are much better than Saveur, which has pretty much gone down the drain). So savoury and I loved the potatoes! Steph's salade lyonnaise was of some standard too. Then came our profiteroles. They were apparently huge by profiteroles, but we're just nice for me. Loved the chocolate and vanilla ice-cream and puff-bun, though they were nothing spectacular, just very pleasant in a peasant way. It was the best meal we'd had in France, and we spent it observing the parental skills of the various couples next to us. (There was a baby who just kept staring and smiling at us, so utterly adorbs.) 

We then decided to head back to our hotel, but using public transport, as the trauma had worn off somewhat. When purchasing tickets at the station we realised that actually, the bus driver hadn't cheated us. We made sure to validate our ticket and got back to a bus stop near our hotel, where I decided I wanted to check out their mall, which was a huge disappointment because it was a Sunday and everything was closed apart from the cinemas. Yet there were loads of people loitering around! Cannot believe it, they really seemed to have nothing better to do. Then we winged it back to our hotel, considered the menu of the restaurant with the nice name card, but concluded it was too expensive and we hadn't enough time anyway. So we went to the toilet instead. And therein concludes our French gastronomic journey.

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Reading Magnus Chase and I am totally appreciating the Anaklusmos reference here

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Day 12: Cambridge

I set out on this quarter century trip of mine as a sort of Harry Potter pilgrimage - I mean, the whole reason why I even decided to come here was because of the HPatCC tickets that I'd bought way back in November last year. But today was a pilgrimage of a different sort: I went to Cambridge, the city in which the couple I revere most studied. Mr Lee Kuan Yew and Mdm Kwa Geok Choo studied law here in the years after World War II, and I wanted in particular to see the Bridge of Sighs, because they took a photo on Kitchen Bridge with the BoS behind it. (Incidentally, they filmed the May Ball dance scene in The Theory of Everything on Kitchen Bridge too.) I reached Cambridge at about 9.10am, and I had no clue what to do or where to go. So got myself a cup of hazelnut hot chocolat from the Hotel Chocolat, which I've been meaning to try. The chocolate whipped cream is amazing. After that I went to have a poke around, and saw Great St Mary's Church, and then went back to the visitor's info centre when it opened to get an idea of what to do. I bought a ticket for punting because I wasn't about to miss it again after stupidly not doing it at Oxford. Luckily, it was cheaper to buy tickets at the centre, at least for the brand Spudwhateveritis. Yeah, I do so make a good travel blogger. Not. Then I considered going on a walking tour.there were two kinds, and I went with the one that included admission into King's College, which was the one with the famous chapel that was completed in the time space of 100 years. My tour guide was an elderly lady named Jane who is extremely well travelled and well-read, and lovely to boot. She'd been to Singapore four times already and said that she loved it. She even KNEW the fall of Singapore, and that's saying loads because I've told my friends, hey, today is Total Defence Day, and they're like, what, really? Anyway, so she brought us round to the Cavendish Laboratories, where she told us a story about a girl named Anne Bell who married a scientist as she'd promised when she was a little girl, and then their son and grandson discovered some x-ray crystallisation technique that advanced the discovery of the structure of DNA. She also told us about Corpus Christie and how the term nosey parker originated from that college because of an actual dude with the surname Parker who has a ginormous conk and went around eavesdropping on and interrupting others' conversation. Hilarious, that. And the Corpus Christie building opposite the Cavendish labs actually don't have toilets so the students living there have to go out to take their baths. And that the building is held together by mostly dirt. Then afterwards she brought us to the Eagle, which is the pub that Watson and Crick frequented. There's a window at a room at the top that's always opened, because legend has it that there was a fire and a young girl died in that room, and if the window was ever closed again the building would catch fire. It's open whatever the weather. Jane said there was once a new manager who didn't know of this practice and had shut the window. That night, the residents woke up in thick smoke - an ice machine was close to exploding. Afterwards they examined the machine and found nothing wrong with it, but the window was open. So now they've nailed it so that it can't ever shut. Then we went into the pub, where we could see the smoke and lipstick marks of the royal air force soldiers (the lipstick was contributed by their girlfriends), who'd mark the ceiling with their squadron numbers after a night of revelry and fun. Because these were men who didn't know whether they'd still be alive the next week. We saw a plaque stating Watson and Crick's achievement. Then we headed to King's College, which was founded by King Henry the VI, who intended it for the study of just 12 young men from Eton. Apparently these young men just drank and did archery practice and rode their horses on nice days and didn't have to sit for exams of any sort, and at the end of their terms they'd get a Gentleman's Degree (the king believed gentlemen shouldn't have to work). We went to the back, where we admired the river Cam and looked at the flowers. Then went into the chapel, where she told us the history of the place, built over a period of 100 years under the rein of 5 kings. Lady Margaret actually helped in it cos she asked for a service to be held in the chapel (apparently they examined her body and found her knees to be so severely damaged from all the praying she had done while alive - !!!) The ceiling was really gorgeous. And a stonemason left his face instead of a flower. Plus the Virgin Mary's face was older than it should have been. Apparently the organ had Anne Boleyn's initials cos that was back when she and the king were still matey. Jane also showed us a painting which was done only in 8 days and sold for £275K or more in the early 1900s - while another painting by the same artist went for £40+mil recently. Instead of a crucifix statue, there was a crucifiz on the painted glass. I'm ashamed to say that at that point, I was nodding off. It wasn't that she was boring, it was that I'd only slept for 6 hours and was really exhausted. She ended off, and some people asked questions, and then I went to show her LKY and KGC's photo at the BoS and she was said, "I have that photo at home!" She brought me to see it at St John's college, passing by a descendant of Sir Isaac Newton's apple tree on the way, and there she helped me take a picture of the bridge. I found out that apparently Singaporeans left the picture at the bridge and flowers, too, when LKY passed on. :'( he was never a member of St John's college, but the college choir sang at his funeral service (they happened to be in Singapore at that time). KGC was at Girton college. After I parted ways with Jane (she had to go to the bank and couldn't join me for a drink or a meal), I stumbled upon Heffers where I examined the HP merchandise they had available. But managed to restrain myself, ha! Then I got ice-cream at Jack's Gelato - per ice-cream and some strange spice flavour that I have no idea how to pronounce or spell. After that, I walked leisurely to Mill Lane, where I chatted with Winston. My punting tour would start at 3.30pm, and it was just me and a Taiwanese Canadian on the punt, as well as the punter. I feared awkwardness, but it was okay - restful silences. The punter told us about how the ducks always lose their ducklings, and he also told us how some baby swans were squashed and killed between two puns and the mother swan thereafter attacked all punts and had to be removed. :'( such a heartbreaking tale. We got to see the Wedding Cake, and the ivy that grew in abundance at the back. Boston ivy, if my memory doesn't fail me? Apparently it turns a glorious red in autumn, so I guess I'll just have to come back then. We also saw the Mathematical Bridge, where the legend is that Sir Newton constructed it purely of straight wood planks without the use of any nuts and bolts. Some Cambridge engineering students took it apart to see how it worked but couldn't put it back together again so now there're nuts and bolts. But as the punter said, if they couldn't put it back together how could they be in Cambridge? Oh - apparently Prince Charles was a student of Trinity college, and he declared that he didn't want to be treated any differently from the other students. Which was why he arrived at school in his private helicopter, and had an entire floor of the residences to himself. Apparently they had to create an agricultural course just for him; he did very poorly in his A Levels and only got in because of a letter of recommendation from his mum (the Queen). He had a batch mate who did better than him. I went to check out Peterhouse after the punting session, which is the oldest college in Cambridge, then I went to take in the lovely grounds of King's College again (the chapel was unfortunately closed for choir practice; there was to be a free service at 5.30pm which I couldn't attend cos I had to catch my train. I did hear snatches of music and singing though, which was nice. And I saw the slab of stone by the Chinese poet who attended King's College (our punter actually recited the first line of the poem Farewell to Cambridge in Chinese, which was great LOL - it went: 轻轻的我走了). I missed the bloody bus to the station and so power walked and ran back to Cambridge Station, and now I'm going to join Steph for dinner at Burger and Lobster - I CANNOT wait. All I've had today was half a Sally Lund bun, seven-eighths a packet of raspberries, a hazelnut hot chocolat, and two scoops of ice-cream. I need me some sustenance, pronto.

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Day 6: Edinburgh to London

I got up early, at 7am, to pack and it was done very quickly. I left at about 8am and then walked to Boots to get Panadol for my period cramps which were going to kill me, I just knew it.

Then I walked to Dean Village, because there’s a camera marked on the map and it seemed like a great place to go. And it was really picturesque! I took so many pictures and wanted to go into this garden which would have a fantastic view of the flow of the water into the deeper part of the canal, but disappointingly it was private.

I’d planned to go to Museum Culture in town, which is this fantastic chain of shops that sell Harry Potter merchandise, to pick up a Harry Potter heat change mug. I thought I’d have time cos I’d initially thought that my train would depart only at 11am. But as I was walking I realised that it would depart at 10.15am, and so that dashed my hopes of getting it. I went to the co-op and got stroopwafels, one for me and one for Alex and Sarah, and then raced off to catch the train, hurtling along the cobbled pavement with my luggage rattling noisily behind me. I got there with about five minutes to spare, thank goodness.

I realised after a few stops that I was sitting on the wrong side of the train - when going towards London from Edinburgh, you should sit on the left side of the train because you’ll get better views, with coastal towns and cliffs and the like. Luckily there were empty seats and I managed to wrangle one. The views were LOVELY. In my limited Korean, 경치가 너무 아름다웠어요! (I know that I am not Korean, and I am not travelling in Korea, but I have limited opportunities to practise my very bad Korean so please just humour me.) I took so many pictures.

I reached King’s Cross at about 2.50pm but I left it only at 4.10pm, having spent WAY too much time at Platform 9 ¾ Harry Potter shop. Too much time, AND too much money. I was hankering after a time turner necklace which was rather affordable, about £16. I asked the same staff about it three times: firstly, to ask for her where to find it, upon which she told me to try and get it from the shelves; secondly, to ask her if I could get the display article, to which she said no; and thirdly, when the new stocks would come in, whereupon she managed to rustle up one necklace for me! So persistence really does pay off, folks.

After picking up several other merchandise, I went to Steph’s place and laid down my luggage. Then I went out to walk around central London. I picked up a tall cup of Caffè mocha and then wandered around in the rain, taking many many wrong turns (I am evidently a worse navigator than I tell everyone I am). I saw St Paul’s, Leadenhall market, where I finally picked up my HP mug for almost the same price I would have gotten it in Edinburgh, and then trotted off to Duck & Waffle, where they unceremoniously made me wait for 45 minutes for a table (“Your table is not ready. But anyway your friends are not here yet right?”) and then told me when they offered me a table that I only had an hour to dine (“because you were 45 minutes late”). Um, excuse me, I believe you made me wait for that same amount of time? And we could only order from staff in the red shirts, and let me just say that there was a surplus of staff who were NOT in red shirts.

I met Steph’s friend, Adeline, who was a really nice girl. And it was great to see Stephers again!

After dinner, we went grocery shopping first at the huge sainsbury’s at Holborn, and then at the smaller one near her office, then walked back to her place.

And there concludes the first day of my return to London, my favourite city in the world!

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Harry Potter and the Cursed Child (spoilers; NOT keeping the secrets)

So I watched HPatCC at Palace Theatre, and it was AWESOME.

I met Tracy’s cousin and friend and we went in, and I bought a Hufflepuff tie as worn in the play and a lovely cloth badge. Bought a programme too, and then we went in and sat.

We saw luggage on the stage and a floating hat. And when the play finally started, people marched on and off the stage, grabbing the luggage and whirling around. And we see our main 5 characters plus Rose, James and Lily on the stage. I STILL don’t get Ron’s trick with the nose, I can only assume that Lily’s nose was supposed to disappear (they can’t make it disappear on stage I mean) and appear in Ron’s hand. But even so, lame trick indeed. Ron was great, and Hermione was awesome. It was a little strange seeing Hermione be so authoritative, but it was really nice, too. I liked that she is now so sure of herself. Harry was kind of angsty. It was kind of like HPatOotP all over again. But I suppose he was put under immense stress and pressure and the poor man was bound to crack at some point. There were some lines that he read a lot more angrily than I would have thought - like that confrontational scene with Albus in his dormitory before they were whisked off by Delphi and Harry asks whether Albus is okay - I expected it to be done in a softer way, with all the fight gone out of him, but it was still said really angrily.

Rose - I don’t know how to say this, but I don’t think I like her very much. Sorry, Hermione. I wanted to see the best of her, so I tried to interpret the things she said in the best way possible. But her portrayal showed that she loved the limelight. Oh well.

The set was gorgeous, and it was wonderfully minimal how they used staircases to show the movement of people through the castle. It was also really clever how the columns doubled up as those of King’s Cross, of the church, and of Hogwarts.

I loved how it was snowing in Godric’s Hollow (on Halloween), loved how pretty Lily Potter is (the moment when she stops and looks at Albus Severus and Scorpius is a bit of a heart-stopping moment - I guess Albus looks too much like Harry and in turn James), and loved the doors signifying the houses in the village (Batty’s had a sprig of dried plants!). Also, how the cast members all swished around in their cloaks, when taking in props and taking them out - that was stylish to the max. If they’d sold cloaks like these at the store I would have bought one in a jiffy. And I really like the use of the clocks on all the columns and at the back, how they all spin backwards during the time turning and how there’s a ripple that booms outwards once they’ve reached the past era.

I also really loved the music, which was by Imogen Heap and was very ethereal and synthy. It really does take you to another world.

Albus Dumbledore was thankfully great in this play. Kind and gentle again, as he should be.

Also, the Dementors were scary! The fluttering cloth and bony hands really did it, as did the swooping around, even over the audiences. I would NOT want to see that flying towards me.

And what was real magic was during the Polyjuice Potion scene, where the characters had to disappear and appear onstage, sometimes within seconds, and they do it flawlessly. It’s brilliant.

One thing I found hard to believe was how easily Harry was defeated by Delphi. You’d think the head of DMLE would not be so quickly felled by a Dark witch in training in her early twenties. It seems a bit pathetic, really. But that’s regarding the storyline, not the acting.

My biggest gripe is that I wish I could have watched Anthony Boyle as Scorpius - I think that would have made the experience perfect - the boy did after all win a Lawrence Olivier for it.

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Recreation of the telephone booth entrance to the Ministry of Magic <3

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Day 5: where I walked... And walked... And walked.

And also spent a bomb.

So yesterday morning I got up at 7.20am, took my time writing the first post, and by the time I got ready to leave, it was already 8am.

So first up was Arthur’s Seat. Holyrood Hills is one of the highest points in Edinburgh, and I wanted to get to the peak. Apparently during May Day it’s a tradition for girls to climb up and dab their faces with morning dew in order to prettify themselves. So I scrambled up, and found myself facing rocky terrain with loose pebbles. For the record, this is not me being a ninny. There actually are signs stating that this is an unsafe route with some dangers, and my airbnb host Alex has said that people have died there before.

So I clambered up warily, trying not to think that this might be the last thing I did in Edinburgh (and my life), and my very unathletic legs trembled from the strain. Several times I couldn’t find a stable foothold and thought of giving up. But the peak was so near! So i thought that I MUST complete it.

And complete it I did. The view was not so great at the top as you would think, because Edinburgh chose that morning to be cloudy and everything was in the mist. I got some great pictures and selfies though, so that’s all right.

Then I headed to Holyrood Palace, where I paid just to get into the place and got a free audio guide I saw Mary’s, Queen of Scots bedroom, and the room where her gay bestie was brutally stabbed to death. I learnt later that you could see the bloodstains on the flagstones, but I didn’t look out for them. Missed opportunity!

After that I walked randomly around Cockburns Street and spent a very long time in the Harry Potter shop near Grassmarket, where I contemplated for the longest time whether to buy the Hogwarts wax seal or not. After that I asked Winston if he would buy it for me as a birthday gift. He acquiesced, and therefore I felt better about buying it HAHA. So now all that’s left to do is buy candles that will allow me to seal my letter with wax!

Then I joined the walking tour departing from the Starbucks near Tron Kirk. My guide was Angus Coutts, he’s a little short but filled with good humour and was a good guide indeed. He repeated a few stories that I’d heard from Jodie already, but it made for a good refresher. He pointed out the uneven steps, the City chambers and how it had 11 floors because it was on a downward slope, Half-Hangit Maggie, and David Hume who hated superstitions and religions and was now one of the most-touched lucky charms (his toes were all shiny), and Greyfriars Bobby, whom he reckoned should have a lifespan of only 8 years (half the reported 16), and therefore the grave was probably of Bobby II. He was good enough that I amended my dinner reservation and signed up for the dark side tour, which cost £10.

After the tour I nipped off to Oink for a pulled pork sandwich, and then back to the Potter shop to get my wax seal, and also 4 coasters and New Scamander’s notebook. Sadly I didn’t manage to get the heat change mug. Then I went to Mary’s Milk Bar and got two scoops of gelato. Then I headed back to Starbucks on Tron Kirk and we set off on the Dark Side tour.

We went to a kirkyard, Caton Hill, and then another kirkyard. Some stories he told us was about Allan Mengzies, Jessie King, he showed us the graves of McGonagall, Thomas Riddell, Adam Smith, David Hume, and David Riccio. Some corpse of a biddy had been the first to be pulled across the bridge between Balmoral hotel and Rabbie’s Cafe, and some politician (with a name that was apparently delicious to say, but I cannot say I see why) had been brutally sentenced to death because he’d shot somebody and that person had developed gangrene from his injuries and died. And then there was the story of Arthur the giant and the three orphaned boys who had bagpipes, a fiddle and a great singing voice - and how the youngest had tricked him into being choked by a horse and a cow. He also talked of brownies, Red Caps, and kelpies.

After the tour I took a bus down to Princes Street, hoping that I would be able to get a purse from River Island, but it had shut long ago, as did Jenner’s. So I went up the short summit I’d seen from the street for many days, but it was disappointing - just loads of trees and more streets. Then I walked down a really nice flagged back alley to Forage & Chatter, where I had a really great meal of specially spiced lamb, with some nice mantou-like bun with butter and green veggie. It came up to £19 - I asked for tap water and declined dessert. Then I took the bus home - my third trip of the day, thereby making my £4 dayticket worth it.

Stayed up until about 1am watching danisnotonfire - sorry, no, it’s Daniel Howell now - and nigahiga’s newest videos.

And therein concludes my final full day in Edinburgh. I’ll miss you!

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A brief recap of Days 1 to 4

This holiday has flown by. I’d wanted to blog about it from day 1, but evidently have not, so here’s a quick recap in case I never get down to doing it, which I really must, because this has been a wonderful holiday.

So I’m actually here in Scotland by myself, despite the cries of horror from my parents who were beside themselves when they realised that I was going to be travelled alone. I started planning for this holiday in 2015 when my soul sister Tracy and I booked tickets for Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. Then Tracy got into flying school and couldn’t join me, and I decided to go it alone instead.

Can I just say how happy I am about that? It has been brilliant. So when I touched down at Edinburgh airport, I took the tram here (which I apparently should not have according to my tourguide Jodie, because it cost millions of pounds to build the system and apparently it sucks?) and flung my bag into the airbnb with Alex and Sarah - wonderful folks with a lovely cat named Lucy - and then got water from the supermarket Lidl nearby, and a Starbucks card because the design was LOVELY, then went around town visiting sights like Edinburgh Castle, Writers’ Museum, the Balmoral, the Walter Scott Monument, and I even went on the Potter tour, and ate ice-cream. I had fish and chips at Grosvenor Pub, and I did not like it very much. Then I went back to the airbnb, chatted with my hosts, and showered and went to sleep.

Day 2, 3 and 4 were for the Rabbie’s tour. I got up at the crack of dawn and packed, left the airbnb with my locked luggage behind, and then headed to Waterloo Place. We went by Stirling Castle, Callander (Mhor shop), Glencoe, Fort Williams, went by the commando statue, Eilean Donan Castle, and finally Portree. I met a lovely girl named Sai at Portree who was on the other tour.

Day 3 was travelling around Isle of Skye, seeing some gorge with a I’m Falling Off The Cliff photo opportunity, Old Man of Stor, Kilt Rock, an unsuccessful dinosaur footprint, the Quirang, the Fairy Glen with Euan Castle, then back to lunch at Portree, and then in the afternoon, fairy pools and the Sligachan river, where Jodie and the other guys in the tour group submerged their faces in the water for 7 seconds in line with the fairytale where you’d get loads prettier and younger if you do that. Catherine and Eff (or Alf? I have no idea) both told me on separate occasions that I was a mountain goat, which probably meant that they’d talked about me together. And OH DAMMIT I did not take a picture of that map DAMN IT. URGH.

Day 4 was heading back. So we went to look for Hairy Coos, but couldn’t find them. Then we went to the nearby town to the bridge to take a pic of the bridge that leads to Skye. Then we stopped at Eilean Donan Castle and went in, and also ate the cheese scone with clotted cream (which were lovely). Then we stopped to look at Ben Nevis, the highest mountain whose summit is clear for 50 days in the year, and yesterday was one of them, so we were very lucky. We passed by a lovely Folly of Moriston, then went to Fort Augusta for lunch where we had a lovely view of Loch Ness. After lunch we saw a pink castle, went to the Dalwhinnie distillery for a tour which I absolutely recommend - and I did not get the hot chocolate, which I now sorely regret because it is supposed to be award-winning- and then passed the woods in Macbeth, saw the Blair Castle, stopped by a small town with Scotch Scottish tablet, and then met a traffic jam back to Edinburgh which brought us on a detour that let us see HAIRY COOS. Upon our return, I hugged Jodie and took a selfie, and then I went up Nelson Monument and took in the sights, then headed back down Princess Street and ate at The Arcade, where I found some tough intestines in my haggis and promptly lost my appetite. Took a bus back to Haymarket, and then rested my weary feet.

And now I have one more day In Edinburgh, and I intend to make full use of it.

See you folks!