It is pretty hard doing nothing, or at least trying to do nothing on holiday. Doing nothing on holiday is the ideal, but we have all used the well-worn phrase "I'm going back to work for a rest after my holiday." On the other hand it is pretty hard to bring the engines to a complete stop. For me, at least, being somewhere new means exploring what's on offer. So this is an unusual sort of break where I have throttled back the engines to idle and in that too over-used phrase of the over 50s trying for cooldom "chilled out."
The whole thing about "doing nothing" as I recall from one of the eastern philosophers I have skimmed during my mystic period, Lao Tsu(I won't go into whether he was a person or a composite of ideas), he taught that all straining, all striving are not only vain but counter-productive. We should endeavor to do nothing (wu-wei). But what does this mean? Apparently it is not literally doing nothing, more to do with not going against the grain of what you should, according to your understanding of your nature, be doing. But it is also looking at the flow of events and striving to be spontaneous when one does presume to act. Right action in the right time, at the right place.
Hmmm wish I felt confident about such a pronouncement. I thought I was in the right place -the jetty of this island; at the right time - 12 noon; having performed the right action - getting myself there. So I waited. Waited somemore. A bird flew past and looked at me in a superior way. I waited and then I had the "I might miss my flight" thought. I recall the slight difficulty I had getting cart for my luggage this morning, could this be more than a communication breakdown, did someone know about the ferry being late....? I pulled out my book which was talking about how long it took to get from A to B back in the 16th century. Further time passes, in slight panic consult a fellow waitee, he says there is no ferry and no information about a ferry. I talk to the resort staff - "oh yes sir big typhoon up Thailand way, we've caught the tailend, might clear." I huffed and puffed a bit about timely information of squall situation, places to go, people to see, etc. His reply: "life and limb, sir ... our guests' safety, too much risky." Return to jetty slightly molified but more worried about my flight taking flight without me. The same bird (I think!) flies by - is that an ironic smile on his beak. Finally, the luggage cart arrives and I see my bag being lifted on to it. So that's it?
Apparently so, because here I sit, after frantic rescheduling of my flight (costing more - of course)and managing to get my room back, filling the blogosphere with these thoughts about my scepticism about "doing nothing" what would Lao Tsu say? "Stranded in a relative paradise - be where you are" - perhaps......
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Just another historical blip
While lazily sucking on my waterpipe(shisha) I fell to reflection on the Arabic guests in the resort and the long association of the Middle East with these parts. From what I understand the Romans were the trailblazers sailing their massive ships from the Red Sea through to the Malabar coast. Riding on the monsoon they would then return to the Red Sea Coast with there sought-after cargo of spices destined for the demanding palates of Rome.
Of course we know what happened then - decline and fall- but the passage of spices and other luxuries must have been noticed by the local people as the camel trains made their way through the desert to Alexandria. So it was not to far a stretch for those of an entrepreneurial bent to follow in the Roman's footsteps. Thus it was when De Gama "discovered" the Indies he was pretty taken aback to find that there were already Tunisians and other Arab traders well established and not inclined to give up their lucrative activities. Of course De Gama wanted it all for the glory of Portugal and used his cannons to conduct a dialogue. But he did not entirely disrupt the trade.
Thus in this part of the world Islam is the main religion at least 90% of Malaysia and probably more of Indonesia. Even in Singapore, Raffles employed the skills and contacts of the established Arab traders. I wonder how many of these well -heeled visitors (mainly from the UAE) know how long the histrical trail is back to their trading ancestors.
Of course we know what happened then - decline and fall- but the passage of spices and other luxuries must have been noticed by the local people as the camel trains made their way through the desert to Alexandria. So it was not to far a stretch for those of an entrepreneurial bent to follow in the Roman's footsteps. Thus it was when De Gama "discovered" the Indies he was pretty taken aback to find that there were already Tunisians and other Arab traders well established and not inclined to give up their lucrative activities. Of course De Gama wanted it all for the glory of Portugal and used his cannons to conduct a dialogue. But he did not entirely disrupt the trade.
Thus in this part of the world Islam is the main religion at least 90% of Malaysia and probably more of Indonesia. Even in Singapore, Raffles employed the skills and contacts of the established Arab traders. I wonder how many of these well -heeled visitors (mainly from the UAE) know how long the histrical trail is back to their trading ancestors.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Hornbills, drydocks and monkeys
It's a curious corner of the world here. It's a comfortable resort sitting on the edge of a small island. But it is also a marina, a refuge from the squalls and travails of the Andaman Sea. There are no local villages on the island so its quite undeveloped in a developed sort of way.
This morning I took a long walk, while it was still cool, around by the marina and out into the nearby forest. I had heard the waves crashing a little louder than usual during the night and so was not surprised by the waterlogged path and the strewn detritus of the recent storm. Walking out in the overcast 6.00am morning, a high wind shaking the trees and rocking the boats at the wharf, my mind wandered to times gone by when this would have been totally unvisited, unlike Penang and Malacca which saw the effects of trade and development through rubber and spices.
My ear then picked up a harsh musical cry and I looked up just in time to see a pair of hornbills flap and glide to their next roost in the forest. Of course I have seen them in captivity but to see them in their element crossing the skies effortlessly brings out the nature boy in me. [Note to self: must get some blurry pictures of minute hornbills in sky before I leave].
Beyond the marina was a dry dock housing upwards of 50 boats in various stages of repair or refurbishment. The boat's name and their home port painted elegantly or functionally on their prows pulled the imagination toward California, Phillippines, Banff(Australia) and Falmouth (UK) with a single high-and-dry vessel from Malaysia. Where are their owners? Counting the bills from the caulking (or whatever they do in dry dock) as they sit on their Pacific coast balconies? Or rueing the day they scraped those rocks off the west coast of Malaysia? There is something disconcerting about a boat out of its watery element, straining at the leash(or should that be line?) to be out to sea but lifted up here, tantalising close to the ocean - to that wind-tossed freedom under the control of the sail, the tiller and the GPS (purple prose passage 1)
Further on up a winding path my sweaty vision focuses blearily on a group of what looks like small people (could these be a native population long lost to the history books and the maps, I think improbably)only to realise with closer acquaintance it is a troupe of around 30 macaques. I am immediately wary since I have some encounters with them elsewhere where their closeness to humans has made them familiar, daring and kleptomania-inclined. But these just look at me slowly and leap back into the forest apart from one, about my age in monkey time, who slowly ambles in to the trees glancing (it seems to me) knowingly at me as if to say "out for a walk too? Blustery weather we're having." Too much Jungle Book, I fear.
This morning I took a long walk, while it was still cool, around by the marina and out into the nearby forest. I had heard the waves crashing a little louder than usual during the night and so was not surprised by the waterlogged path and the strewn detritus of the recent storm. Walking out in the overcast 6.00am morning, a high wind shaking the trees and rocking the boats at the wharf, my mind wandered to times gone by when this would have been totally unvisited, unlike Penang and Malacca which saw the effects of trade and development through rubber and spices.
My ear then picked up a harsh musical cry and I looked up just in time to see a pair of hornbills flap and glide to their next roost in the forest. Of course I have seen them in captivity but to see them in their element crossing the skies effortlessly brings out the nature boy in me. [Note to self: must get some blurry pictures of minute hornbills in sky before I leave].
Beyond the marina was a dry dock housing upwards of 50 boats in various stages of repair or refurbishment. The boat's name and their home port painted elegantly or functionally on their prows pulled the imagination toward California, Phillippines, Banff(Australia) and Falmouth (UK) with a single high-and-dry vessel from Malaysia. Where are their owners? Counting the bills from the caulking (or whatever they do in dry dock) as they sit on their Pacific coast balconies? Or rueing the day they scraped those rocks off the west coast of Malaysia? There is something disconcerting about a boat out of its watery element, straining at the leash(or should that be line?) to be out to sea but lifted up here, tantalising close to the ocean - to that wind-tossed freedom under the control of the sail, the tiller and the GPS (purple prose passage 1)
Further on up a winding path my sweaty vision focuses blearily on a group of what looks like small people (could these be a native population long lost to the history books and the maps, I think improbably)only to realise with closer acquaintance it is a troupe of around 30 macaques. I am immediately wary since I have some encounters with them elsewhere where their closeness to humans has made them familiar, daring and kleptomania-inclined. But these just look at me slowly and leap back into the forest apart from one, about my age in monkey time, who slowly ambles in to the trees glancing (it seems to me) knowingly at me as if to say "out for a walk too? Blustery weather we're having." Too much Jungle Book, I fear.
Cigareets, whisky and .....wild, wild chocolate
Somewhere I read that "kuah" in Malay means "gravy." Well this main town of Langkawi is certainly trying to get on board the (ahem) gravy train. Sometime ago, in order to boost the tourist revenue, Langkawi was given duty free status. The result can be seen in Kuah where a few streets of rather tumbledown buildings throb and pulse with the energy of money and goods changing hands for a variety of luxury items such as chocolate, booze, tobacco and electrical goods.
No matter how much of a fan of chocolate you are how are you ever going to get through even one of the megaboxes on sale? More astonishing to me, an occasional lover of M&Ms and good dark chocolate is the variety of liqueur chocolates on offer. Except as a attempted decadent teenager I have never been clear on the allure of these luridly packaged confections. I mean you either want to savour your alcohol, follow it up with a good coffee + chocs and then, if you really want to top yourself off, down a few sickly liqueurs. To mix the separate experiences seems to me to be curtailing a much broader opportunity for hedonism. Am I missing something?
Of course I do not scorn the alcohol - 20p for a bottle of beer and £5 for a litre of top grade Tequila - is a temptation I will not resist. But again how would I ever get a crate out of the country even if I could pay the duty which Singapore would, no doubt, levy? There must be something going on that is not entirely legal or so illegal that it needs a short news feature to uncover. But then again maybe it's not so interesting, the moving of the illicit goods of last century? These days there are much more desperate things been traded, moved and counter-traded.
As for tobacco, I have more-or-less given up - I had a lapse last year but now I am back on the straight and smokefree road. So it is only with slight pangs that I look at the huge stacks of numerous nicotine brands and the slightly more alluring displays of first quality cigars from Havana. I suppose I could invest in a lifetime supply of Xmas/New Year cigars but then I would have to invest in a humidor or whatever you would need to keep the tobacco sprightly and the leaf moist.
Walking the streets you begin to wonder where all the money passed over the counters goes. It certainly isn't on the pavements, the roads, the drainage or any other observable infrastructure. When I say "walking the steets" I mean it figuratively, it's more like delicately picking your way between the potholes, the subsided pavements and the open drains. I mean for a serial tourist like me it is all, in a way, quite quaint, but to live amid this - hard to say how I would feel. Grateful for small mercies such as all day electricity and a road which reasonably frequently gets me from A to B?; settle for a more basic life where I ask for less and don't get frustrated with how things should be? I am pampered by the Singapore standard, I know, but people here must ask questions as to why, a tiny country so close(an hour away) is capable of such growth and development while places like Kuah, awash with money from the exchange of duty free still lacks a decent pavement.
No matter how much of a fan of chocolate you are how are you ever going to get through even one of the megaboxes on sale? More astonishing to me, an occasional lover of M&Ms and good dark chocolate is the variety of liqueur chocolates on offer. Except as a attempted decadent teenager I have never been clear on the allure of these luridly packaged confections. I mean you either want to savour your alcohol, follow it up with a good coffee + chocs and then, if you really want to top yourself off, down a few sickly liqueurs. To mix the separate experiences seems to me to be curtailing a much broader opportunity for hedonism. Am I missing something?
Of course I do not scorn the alcohol - 20p for a bottle of beer and £5 for a litre of top grade Tequila - is a temptation I will not resist. But again how would I ever get a crate out of the country even if I could pay the duty which Singapore would, no doubt, levy? There must be something going on that is not entirely legal or so illegal that it needs a short news feature to uncover. But then again maybe it's not so interesting, the moving of the illicit goods of last century? These days there are much more desperate things been traded, moved and counter-traded.
As for tobacco, I have more-or-less given up - I had a lapse last year but now I am back on the straight and smokefree road. So it is only with slight pangs that I look at the huge stacks of numerous nicotine brands and the slightly more alluring displays of first quality cigars from Havana. I suppose I could invest in a lifetime supply of Xmas/New Year cigars but then I would have to invest in a humidor or whatever you would need to keep the tobacco sprightly and the leaf moist.
Walking the streets you begin to wonder where all the money passed over the counters goes. It certainly isn't on the pavements, the roads, the drainage or any other observable infrastructure. When I say "walking the steets" I mean it figuratively, it's more like delicately picking your way between the potholes, the subsided pavements and the open drains. I mean for a serial tourist like me it is all, in a way, quite quaint, but to live amid this - hard to say how I would feel. Grateful for small mercies such as all day electricity and a road which reasonably frequently gets me from A to B?; settle for a more basic life where I ask for less and don't get frustrated with how things should be? I am pampered by the Singapore standard, I know, but people here must ask questions as to why, a tiny country so close(an hour away) is capable of such growth and development while places like Kuah, awash with money from the exchange of duty free still lacks a decent pavement.
Monday, August 3, 2009
LangKawi at Long Last
Been trying to get here for some time and finally courtesy of a very cheap fare and a good deal on some luxury accommodation it has happened.
Langkawi is just over an hour out of Singapore but in terms of contrast is a thousand miles away. Very laid back and quite rundown - the remnnants of the Asia crash are still here - aborted theme parks and half-completed hotels. But it's such a relief from dynamic thrusting Singapore where building is full-force and a day without hearing a hacking drill is a blessed oasis of silence.
So it's a week's break and I will try to log what happens - if anything does ... it's that kind of place.
The luxury accommodation is Rebak Island about 15 mins ferry ride from the main island and after the hotel pickup it was exhilarating to be out on the ocean bumping along through a fairly choppy sea.
The hotel is attached to a marina where a range of sailing boats are tied up awaiting someone's pleasure. Some quite big so we are talking about fairly well-heeled folks and perhaps some "yachties" who just languidly travel the world on a stipend or a pension.
It is very hot and highly humid with a strong breeze which stirs the tendency to fall into a torpor. A seaside room means that the sound of the sea sursurates and saturates sodden sleep (yay alliteration rools ooook).
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