Showing posts with label Musings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Musings. Show all posts

Sunday, 19 March 2017

Hong Kong, Hong Kong...

8 months into Hong Kong, 3 months into the year that is 2017. How time does seem to pass us by. The city is growing on me, slowly but surely. The initial questioning, the inquiry, the wondering. What is my purpose for being here. Here. Still there, but being masked by the comfort of a somewhat routine. So definitive I know. All will be revealed in good time.

Hong Kong life represents the epitome of #firstworldproblems, the problems, that a recent video portrayed, are not problems at all. But we knew that. Living an expat life in an expensive city, where taxes are low, bars aplenty, people are open, nature and warm weather is on your doorstep and all year round. Work hard, play harder. What's not to like? The life of a new expat in Hong Kong is centred on Hong Kong Island, with home and work likely to be within a 5km radius. Island life mentality and cabin fever easily can set in and there we seek comfort in the great outdoors or a plane ride to another city. Our apartments may be smaller but our sense of adventure and access has somehow gotten a whole lot bigger. 

I am grateful, don't get me wrong. I am grateful for the opportunity to be here, to travel, to work and be halfway closer to my family and friends in Sydney. I am grateful to experience living in another country and be met with the discomforts that greet me along the way. Yet with all the access and opportunities, and the affordability for it all, I feel the need to minimalise, to take a step back. The question comes up time and time again - how much do we really need to get by, to survive, to have an amazing life of abundance. We don't need that much and we live an extremely privileged and spoilt life, but that we have created and made for ourselves, so for that, we should be proud.

Outside and even amongst the bubble of expat island life though, many families in Hong Kong live below the poverty line. I don't know what that means in a practical sense but the number is around 20% and apparently the highest in 6 years. We also see it, people living on the streets, not homeless and begging but their home is there, on the street, under a bridge, by some stairs in a quiet, trendy corner of Sheung Wan. Their belongings are with them, they have portable gas stoves and rice cookers and makeshift beds, luggage and clothing. They are not homeless, they just make a life living with less. The less, of course, is all relative. I don't know these people, how they feel, how happy they might feel, how content they may be. As far as I know, they are the happiest people but on my mind's sake, it makes me question what I do have.  So at times I feel a sense of remorse, although I don't think I need to, but I do. We are privileged enough to not have to worry about our next meal, our next coffee, our next glass of wine but we take it for granted. I see it not only on the streets but in my own parents. Money is earnt and spent carefully, everything that I have access to now is a result of the hard work and courage of my family many years ago. For that I am grateful.

So this predicament lies in me and but I don't know as yet how to express this, how to implement something that is of course, completely selfish, and to simply allow me to sleep better knowing that I have made a difference, however small. Every action starts with a decision. What could you do?

Wednesday, 21 January 2015

Healthy Eating with a Side of Chocolate...


I've said it once, I'll say it again. My name is Annie and I am a chocoholic.

As the new year begins, so along with it comes the realm of resolutions and beginnings, promises of healthier eating, exercising 6 times a week with no alcohol in January, being more positive, saving more, spending less, eating more greens, eating less meat and getting hot. These resolutions usually last about the same time as it takes for someone to ask me in the bleak days of London January, whilst sitting at my desk, looking out the window into the greyness of St Paul's... Should we go for a glass of red?

The luxury of time. Such an abstract concept. Why should time be a luxury? I never feel like I have enough time. My nights are a constant battle, filled with all the activities I really do enjoy doing vs having time to not do all the things I enjoy. Downtime. Which means different things on different days. Tonight it meant going straight home after work, no yoga, no hiit, no football, no catchups. 

'You'll never find time for anything. If you want time, you have to make it....'

So in the abstractness of the evening, I decided to make myself some soup. Like chicken soup for the soul, except not, as of course, I'm trying to eat less meat. So instead it was roasted sweet potato, butternut squash, spinach and quinoa soup for a wintery January evening. It was definitely soul warming and soothing. Perfect with a side of chocolate. Abstract recipe below. 

So I did actually write a few things down for 2015, but none of the usual points listed above. All of the above will be a bonus in the quest for a year of difference, yet made with the same ingredients. Abit of being stirred, rising,  baked, shaken and consumed. Yes, all of the clichés.

It will be about balance, the Ha and the Tha and the enjoyment and indulgence with virtue and purity in the company of strangers and loved ones. It is continually cultivating this balance somehow, someway, somewhere....

Sweet potato, butternut squash, spinach and quinoa soup for the non-chicken soup drinkers.

Ingredients
1 sweet potato
1 butternut squash 
1 onion
Few cloves of garlic
Few handfuls of spinach
1 cup of cooked quinoa 
Vegetable stock

To garnish (optional)
Parsley
Chilli flakes
Pepper
Crumbed feta 

1. Chop sweet potato and butternut squash into small chunks, drizzle with some Olive oil and roast for about 30 minutes at 190' (a highish heat!)

2. Gently fry the onion and garlic

3. Add the roasted squash and sweet potato to the onions and fry again briefly, then add vegetable stock and simmer until the vegetables are soft. Leave to cool slightly.

4. Cook the quinoa separately

5. Purée the soup in a blender or with a hand blender then pour back into a saucepan.

6. Add the Spinach until it wilts.

7. You can either add quinoa to the pot or just add desired quantity to individual
Servings (which is what I did).

8. Garnish and drink up!

On another note, the greyness of St Paul's can be rather mesmerising.



Thursday, 30 October 2014

Musings of an Avid Dreamer


Some words are meant just for me and some are not. So many notebooks and blank pages of sorts. I have a binder of yoga materials, an A4 notebook from my class with notes, and a couple of black books, thrown in with a few others. A journal for my yoga practice, a black book of ideas, a book of thoughts, blank pages and a giant art book yet to be used. Each one has a different purpose and it reminds me how much I love books and stationary and what they represent or the potential of what they could be. 

For the most part, they are just words. However, a word on paper is more real than one that exists only in my head. In there, they get lost. On paper, I am reminded.

So my coffee breaks have become my little brain dump. Well, they will become. 





Wednesday, 15 October 2014

Observations of a Crowded Tube Journey




Waxed leather pants, big headphones and rather clumsily and haphazardly  steps a girl tangled in her headphones. She untangles her headphones from the pole, tries to cool herself down and settles into reading her book titled 'wine, wealth and the state in late antique Egypt'. She reminded me of the an older version of the girl in Hugh Grants About a Boy. The punk girl, that the young boy had a crush on.

Next to her is an African kid, again earphones in and his feet are tapping away with his green sneakers, on the crowded tube floor. A well dressed man in a suit beside him tries to move his feet away. He notices me looking and then I feel uncomfortable. An older gentleman steps on, he is wearing a black fedora like hat and a pink shirt and blazer (with trousers too).

I am observing, trying to be mindful and being conscious of it too. It is interesting what you normally miss as you have your music plugged in and gaze fixed at anywhere that isn't in someone else's line of sight for the fear of making eye contact in our contactless transport system. 

I for one know how catastrophic it feels to travel a journey without any music in tow and thoughts to follow. 

I'm reading a book. Well, I am reading a book, but also some readings, notes, materials and sometimes I am just reading my thoughts over. My yoga course is reinviting me into the realm of mindfulness, the study and application of this by the nature of what it is and means to be aware. Aware of your senses, your surroundings, your body and simply, (or not), aware of you. Who you are now. To switch off from the sufferings of the past and the angst of the future and to be present for brief moments and sustain this. It's definitely not easy. It's interesting though to observe the things you would normally miss in your routine. Observe, without analysing. I'm noticing more, I always hear and see but I don't always understand. Well maybe not entirely accurate! Anyway, I'm learning that I don't need to. There is plenty of grey matter in this world and not everything can be explained in words. So many words. So just observe for some brief moments and enjoy. 

For an already analytical mind, the analysing of being present and mindful is seemingly detracting from the philosophy of this notion! But. It was fun to look around at the many walks of life on a crowded tube. People that you would not encounter on your day to day and people that you have a chance to.

I find myself making an effort to engage in more conversations with random people of late. For curiosity's sake. An old lady in an antique shop, where did she get all her stock from. Turns out she was part Swedish and having an ageing aunt made numerous trips back home in the past few years and picked up a lot of things from her hometown, alongside with France travel for the flea markets. I felt I had something to contribute on this point and shared my favourite antique cities and markets in France. She wanted to talk more, she wanted to share her stories and I wanted to listen. Alas I have class. I promise I will be back. I wonder how many people actually visit her store and stay for awhile. 

The two random strangers at the 5 mile mark during the Royal Parks Half Marathon who asked me if I was on pace. Sure, I said, I have 7, no, 8 miles to go (who's counting). He had sore nipples and needed some Vaseline but he was on track. Made me laugh and forget about those miles as I carried on. 

The lady who stopped me as I was walking to paddington to ask if I had run the half marathon and congratulate me for doing so. It was such a simple gesture. 

I guess you never really know the impact of what you do on someone else's day. Small actions, gestures and conversations may be all that was needed to bring a smile to someone. 

So try it, look around and speak to people, you never know what interesting things you might find out, or prefer not to know. You never know what it could mean for them. Either way, you will likely learn something new or see something with fresh eyes. Or simply, you paying attention might have made their day.

Signing off,

Confessions of a thinkaholic/talkaholic
surrounded by words. 




Tuesday, 24 June 2014

In the Company of Strangers



I want adventures. The endless places which never cease to amaze and excite me and instil the feeling of freedom and happiness. Fleeting at best, permanent at  most.

Naples and the Amalfi Coast is amazing. Beautiful, relaxing and took me by surprise. I expected to be greeted by grime and watching over my shoulder in Naples. I didn't expect to be eating the most simple local ragu that as my sister would say, the best spaghetti con ragu she has ever had. Cooked for 7hours. (Tandem Ragu). I had the vegetarian version and it was delicious! She spent the rest of the trip dreaming about this dish and we contemplated returning to Naples for it. Oh and those donuts (doughnuts?), the lightest and fluffiest and covered in Nutella. It was also just so cheap! 

The area around Via dei Tribulani in the old historic centre, and surrounding streets offered much in terms of local eateries even though it would serve as the focal point for many a visitor. Observations of locals carrying about their daily routine amidst the few travellers seeking out pizza and donuts. In the end, we only sampled one pizza. It was just so filling! Not the oldest one (Brandi pizzeria), but just one that was nearby and had been recommended (also featured in Eat Pray Love) - La Antica Pizzeria Da Michele. A double mozzarella pizza was €5, tomato base was so fresh and light and the mozzarella chewy and creamy. Have to say I would prefer the base slightly crispier.

Naples reminded me of an edgier version of Lisbon. Less grungy and less funky, but still with good coffee, good food, graffiti and laundry (lol). It made me want to wander the streets. I didn't too much though. I didn't want to get into any trouble! Ha! 

It also had resemblances to South East Asia. The smog, dirt, motorbikes and fruit and vegetable stores. Oh and also the freshly baked bread rolls which had an uncanny look, smell and taste to Vietnamese banh mi! (albeit chewier). Take note. 

We were warned of the train, so we caught the hydrofoil to Sorrento and then the Sita bus to Positano. Home for the next four nights. Arriving in Sorrento, immediately we felt "ooh we like this place already .." Also a thinking of should we have stayed here? It had a holiday resort feel, a vibe and was big and busy enough with a  pretty square. Also the point of arrival in the Marina Piccola afforded us our first view of crystal clear waters that we would later swim in.

We expected beaches to be less than awe inspiring along this coast, as that is what we heard. Whilst this could be attributed to the black sand and pebbles (boulders!) at most beaches, it definitely did not detract from the swimming holes on offer. A ferry ride over to lush Capri, we were greeted with the freshest lemonade and a beautiful view over the Arco Naturale, a slice of paradise. A short bus ride to the Marina Piccola lead to a couple of beach bars and beautiful crystal clear waters. A little cove of heaven, with a view of the three Faraglioni Rocks. Jelly shoes recommended. Only wish we weren't reliant on ferry times for departing! Next time, perhaps a night here, or two...

An early start and a packed lunch the next day meant a full 5 hours at the Spiaggia di Duoglio in Amalfi. It was a short boat ride from Amalfi itself but not as crowded and bluer waters. Well, the colour really does depend on the sunlight and how it shines. The early start meant we had time to visit Ravello. The tiny town on the hill that was the most romantic town we visited. It felt slower, calm and simply nostalgic. It offered mountainous views which differed from the rest of the coast, seeing the settings of beautiful wedding ceremonies and an aperitivo on the grounds of the beautiful Palazzo Avino Hotel was truly stunning. 

Sorrento. Yes. Wish we had stayed in Sorrento. It was bigger yes, but it exuded more substance. Positano is very pretty and romantic, but if seeking a beach break with more choices and the giant swimming pool, that is the ocean, Sorrento it would be. The Marina Grande was a 15 minute walk from the town centre and has a small beach and a few restaurants serving  apparently the fishermans catch of the day. The lobster tagliolini was also the best pasta dish I had of the coast, and we had alot - so simple in a light lemon sauce. 

The Marina Piccola though, is where you should swim. There are three beach bars   along the marina and we chose Leonellis at the end. Further from the incoming boats. Doesn't sound too appealing I know, but each beach bar was made up of a boardwalk of sun loungers (which you hire), around an area enclosed by rocks and you enter the water by ladders. Hence the swimming pool. There is a beach on one side, but really, who wants the discomfort of pebbles unnecessarily. Protected from the waves and the extra salty water meant buoyancy and swimming for long periods of time, without my feet ever needing to touch the ground. Could I stay like this forever.

Oh and gelato, the gelato at Raki Gelateria in town. The strawberry and hazelnut flavours were so tasty and the process of scooping was abit of an art form. 

Ah we maximised our day in Sorrento, deciding at dinner that the last bus back at 9pm it would be. We had checked the bus timetable and there were a couple of people at the bus station. A Spanish guy approaches and is desperately trying to find out if we had a bus ticket to spare (turns out, we were to have two), or where he could buy a ticket or what time the bus was due to come. He had to get to Amalfi. Also if we spoke Spanish, or Italian. Tick: none of the above (unfortunately). He did understand I meant now... But the now of 9 o'clock was now 9.15 and these buses were prompt. So we checked. Hmm looks like they changed the timetable and the last bus was 8pm. So we asked another bus driver, he didn't know but a very kind random lady did call and confirm that no, there are no more buses tonight.

So we proceed to tell the rest of the people at the bus stop. A group of four Armenians from Detroit and a mother and daughter from Philadelphia. Met with much disagreement "no, the hotel told us".. "no, the bus timetable says..". Nooo, we tell ya. It is all wrong.

So one of the Armenian ladies could speak some Spanish, and the Spanish  guy could speak some Italian, so we are in business. First though, we figure we split a taxi with the mother and daughter (Tracey (mum) and Winnie (daughter)) as they are also going to Positano. The other 5 are heading to Amalfi. So we are told by Tracey it should be less than €70, but that we should try and ask for €60 for the four of us, no actually €50. Yes ma'am. We try. We are told €70, we say €60. They agree. Great, we will grab our new friends. Ah.. No with 4 people, it will be more.

Meanwhile, our Spanish friend who speaks Italian is trying to negotiate a taxi for all 9 of us. €20/person. Ok, we say. No, Tracey says, as it is more. In the end we agree, and the 9 of us pile into the 9 seater minivan with the driver. It's ok she says, the 4 of us can share one row. Who needs seat-belts on a winding coastline anyway.

It made for actually a much more relaxing journey than the bus, and shared some laughs and communication woes. Exchanged recommendations of restaurants and said our goodbyes. 

Alas, Positano is tiny and the next afternoon we are called out by the Armenian group who were visiting for the day. 5 minutes down the road we are stopped by Tracey and Winnie and after a brief exchange and a request to exchange emails, an offer to stay at their holiday house in September when it would be empty, followed. Situated one block from the beach, near Philadelphia I believe. One hour from New York she stressed. Of course, we would just have to get ourselves there. 

How simple encounters can change a day, a trip, a moment. The taxi journey ended the day in Sorrento with all of us laughing. Apparently everything happens for a reason. In a different context this was mentioned in the taxi.

So we still have our two bus tickets. We really should give them to someone. We approached a couple by the bustop at Naples airport and asked if they were travelling to the Amalfi Coast. The guy quickly and ever so slightly abruptly says they are going to Sorrento. He probably thought we wanted to sell him something. We told him that we had two tickets we weren't going to use and so they could have them. He was evidently pleasantly surprised and thanked us. They weren't worth anything and they probably weren't even going to use it, but it brought upon a smile and so forth. Should exercise paying it forward more.

Perhaps it was this coastline, or perhaps it is Italy. Whatever the case though, the Baci kiss quotes were definitely more corny. Still, I could not resist.






















Thursday, 12 June 2014

Yoga and wine and all things fine...


Waiting in line for the Graham Norton show. My sister managed to get audience tickets after request after request. I don't think I have ever watched a full episode. I don't know the format of the show or what the red chair was until last night, but I am looking forward to the Kasabian performance and I do actually know the guests. (Samuel L.Jackson, Keira Knightley and Jenson Button).

I haven't had a television for 8 months, nor do I feel like I need one but I feel should have one. So I bought one. Just in time for the World Cup festivities that I may follow. The question of buying materialistic items versus investing in experiences has cropped up a lot around me lately. More likely though, it has always been around but I simply notice it more now. My restless notions putting me in a predicament of furnishing my flat vs well, not furnishing.

One is deemed worthy and the other just a desire to own an item. It simply boils down to perspective, which changes all the time. For everyone. What matters most and more for one person may be the same as what matters least for another. #choices #firstworldproblems 

I have been doing a lot of yoga lately. It is my reprieve and my time for just me. For an activity that began for purely the physical benefits and challenges it presented, I am slowly realising the mental benefits that are all encompassing. Again though, the question has come up. For an activity that has evolved since I don't know when and provided a pathway to spirituality via a means other than religion, it can be an expensive activity in this city. There are cheaper ways to partake in the activity, free classes, trials at yoga studios all around the city and of course, self practice at home. However, to stay devoted to just one studio usually comes at a price. 

I did, however, manage to attend a very enjoyable free morning yoga class held on the rooftop of One New Change this week. The sun was shining, slight breeze and the view of beautiful St Pauls after savasana. It is Also the venue of a popular rooftop bar in the summer. Where downward dog meets downtown demons.

Consumerism is all around us, that we can't escape. Nor do I think we really want to. Not completely anyway - as I don't think it is possible. Unless we are willing to trade in all our Apple products and switch off from the world around us and hide away in a remote location with nothing, but all that we need.

The desire to be less materialistic is at the forefront of my mind. To have more experiences - travel, try new things, learn new skills, see your city, country, world and friends through different lenses (Canon perhaps?) is important for the memories that it creates. Memories and moments last and revisit every few days, months, years - for the rest of your life. If you have a good memory. Whereas my materialistic purchases don't usually survive much longer than a drunken night. Two, if I am lucky!

However, that is me. It is hard to find that balance and some days I try harder than others. Some days I don't need to try and others I rationalise a little bit more than my normal. Which is, a lot.  

Some days I really do need that new Zara top for Summer ;-) 


Sunday, 18 March 2012

Sweet dreams are made of this...

Raspberry and Almond Bakewell Cake
In-som-ni-a (Noun) - Habitual sleeplessness; inability to sleep.

Oh is that all. I expected a more textbook definition or hoping for something more insightful. Lately I have become quite the insomniac. For the past two weeks I haven't been able to differentiate whether my non-sleep is attributed to jetlag or well, insomnia. 

The alarms goes off, I hit snooze. It buzzes again. I trudge to the bathroom and declare "I slept so badly last night". My flatmate responds that for as long as she has lived with me she has never known me to sleep well. Hmm. That is over 18months. It never occurred to me my degree of restless and sleeplessness - for not getting my forty winks has really become the norm. It is easier the measure the number of hours I think I slept. If I think I slept 7 hours, then surely my brain would fool my body into believing it had?

Lack of light in my room means I have no inkling what time it is for the most part without hearing or seeing my alarm. I could leave my window pane slightly ajar but I would then have further problems of falling asleep. I like darkness. I get distracted too easily by any sound or light, external to myself. Although, for anyone who knows me, they will say that my lack of sleep is internal to me, to my restless and analytical mind. In university days, I would have said this was true. Now, still true, but too a lesser degree. I value my sleep alot more now... I crave it. On the few mornings I wake up feeling rested, I have energy and look forward to the day ahead. Today was one of them.

Caffeine really affects me. I love the smell and taste of coffee - it is just synonymous to walking, cup in hand on a chilled weekend and so I look forward to it daily. It perks me up. Give me two and I will feel guilty. Three, and I will be bouncing off walls. Caffeine past about 3pm is the death of me - an exhausted body with an alert mind are not the perfect match. Yet stubbornness, cravings and false pretences makes me cave in to my desires at times. I was supposed to give up caffeine for Lent. I am not religious but we at work all decided to give up something so I chose caffeine. It's a vicious cycle and it didn't last but if at first you don't succeed...so I am starting again tomorrow.

A friend sent me an article on foods for better sleep -  foods that help in the creation of melatonin in your body which apparently controls your internal clock - correcting the mismatch between this and your daily routine. In order these are:

Raspberries
Almonds
Sunflower seeds
Cherries
Flaxseeds
Strawberries

I guess it is not as effective if these are coupled with lashings of sugar in the form of a raspberry and almond bakewell cake, washed down with a fresh mug of coffee. Perhaps that was where I was going wrong. More reading to be done. Recipe below anyway.

Ingredients
1. 140g ground almonds
2. 140g butter , softened
3. 140g golden caster sugar
4. 140g self-raising flour
5. 2 eggs
6. 1 tsp vanilla extract
7. 250g raspberries
8. 2 tbsp flaked almonds
9. icing sugar , to serve

Method

1. Heat oven to 180C/160C fan/gas 4 and base-line and grease a deep 20cm loose-bottomed cake tin. Blitz the ground almonds, butter, sugar, flour, eggs and vanilla extract in a food processor until well combined.

2. Spread half the mix over the cake tin and smooth over the top. Scatter the raspberries over, then spread the remaining cake mixture on top and roughly spread - you might find this easier to do with your fingers. Scatter with flaked almonds and bake for 50 mins until golden. Cool, remove from the tin and dust with icing sugar to serve. ƒ

I served it with a dollop of clotted cream to satisfy the scone craving I had been having. Vanilla ice cream would also work.