Random pics from Cambodia. Part One.

Siem reap. View from a restaurant...

... called Soup Dragon... which served pseudo-Khmer food.

This is how I look like nowadays.

Quaint alleyways.

Fish preservation.

Old-style colonialism still standing.

Always time for a Singha.

Child labour.

Siem Reap's principal source of income:: the ruins of a past generation.

Tourists and crumbles...

en noir et blanc.

Religion.

Home in Ten days.

Singapore

How do you know that you've been in London too long?

1. You say "the City" and expect everyone to know which one. (check)

2. You have never been to The Tower or Madame Tussauds but love Manchester/Brighton. (check)

3. You can get into a four-hour argument about how to get from Shepherds Bush to Elephant & Castle at 3:30 on the Friday before a long weekend, but can't find Dorset on a map. (check - probably)

4. Hookers and the homeless are invisible. (check)

5. You step over people who collapse on the Tube. (check, well no, but i get the point)

6. You believe that being able to swear at people in their own language makes you multilingual. (check - absolutely!)

7. You've considered stabbing someone. (check)

8. Your door has more than three locks. (just one less!)

9. You consider eye contact an act of overt aggression. (check)

10. You call an 8' x 10' plot of patchy grass a garden. (check)

11. You consider Essex the "countryside". (check)

12. You think Hyde Park is "nature". (check)

13. You're paying £1,200 a month for a studio the size of a walk-in wardrobe and you think it's a "bargain". (check)

14. Shopping in suburban supermarkets and shopping malls gives you a severe attack of agoraphobia. (check)

15. You pay more each month to park your car than most people in the UK pay in rent. (n.a.)

16. You pay 3 pounds without blinking for a beer that cost the bar 28p. (check)

17. You actually take fashion seriously. (check)

18. You have 27 different menus next to your telephone. (check - we're getting there)

19. The UK west of Heathrow is still theoretical to you. (check)

20. You're suspicious of strangers who are actually nice to you. (check, or strangers who ask for the time!)

21. Your idea of personal space is no one actually physically standing on you. (check)

22. £50 worth of groceries fit in one plastic bag. (check)

23. You have a minimum of five "worst cab ride ever" stories. (n.a.)

24. You don't hear sirens anymore. (check)

25. You've mentally blocked out all thoughts of the city's air/water quality and what it's doing to your insides. (check)

26. You live in a building with a larger population than most towns. (well no, but yes to villages)

27. Your cleaner is Brazilian, your grocer is Somali, your butcher is halal, your deli man is Israeli, your landlord is Portuguese, your laundry guy is Philippino, your bartender is Greek, your favourite diner owner is Italian, the watch seller on your corner is Senegalese, your last cabbie was African, your newsagent is Indian and your local English chippie owner is Turkish. (check)

28. You wouldn't want to live anywhere else until you get married. (check)

29. You roll your eyes and say 'tsk' at the news that someone has thrown himself under a tube train. (check - nah, joking)

30. Your day is ruined if you don't get a copy of Metro on the way to work. (nup!)

It's winter, darling.

It's bloody cold: I've just had to turn on the central heating. Summer is over.

A new beginning

I moved into my new seat in the banking department on Monday. So it's back to square one again, the usual pleasanties with the banking folks, my new room mate, my new secretary, and my new appraisal partner; learning the finance speak; and getting to grips with the finance documents.

The best bit about the move, however, was how chilled out the week ended up being. Although I got hooked on the second day with the re-financing bit of a deal that I was working on in Corporate, it hasn't been too bad and I was able to leave the office before 8 almost every evening for dinner/drinks with mates.

Jewel (http://www.jewel-bar.co.uk/)

... is quite chi chi and luxurious for the swamp-land that is Piccadilly Circus. It is fairly pricey, but fancy enough to wow you for a bit. The Jewel bar is based on Baz Lurhman’s Moulin Rouge with Bordeaux coloured furnishings and striking chandeliers and I liked the pseudo-kitschness of the glass chandeliers and uplights, but wasn't very impressed with the weatherspoonish box-like seats. Certainly far more spacious and therefore not as claustrophobic as its sister branch at Covent Garden.

Lindsay House (www.lindsayhouse.co.uk)

... was where we had our closing dinner for the deal that completed last Tuesday. Lindsay House is owned by Irish-born chef Richard Corrigan who specialises in earthy, modern Irish cooking. The Lindsay House seats only 48 on two floors in a Regency style Georgian house that has been redecorated to reflect the original classic features of the building. As in an old-fashioned speakeasy, you ring the doorbell for admittance to a Regency town house deep in Soho. Unfolding before you are gilded mirrors, original fireplaces, and bare wooden floorboards. The staircase delivers you to one of two floors. There being 9 of us - a partner, four associates, three trainees and a paralegal - we had a private dining room booked.

We had decided on the tasting menu:

Magnum Paul Roger Extra Cuvée de Reserve NV

Ravioli of Chorizo & Feta, White Onion Soup & Shallot Rings
Risotto of Peas with Broad Beans & Cornish Crab
Grilled Tuna with Pea, Black Olive & Sardine Fritters
New Season Elqy Valley Lamb & Marjoram scented Broth
Goat's Cheese Sorbet with Black Cherries & Banyuls
Sablé of English Raspberries with Lavender Ice Cream

Chablis Grand Cru "Vaudésirs", Domaine Durup 2001
Magnum Cháteau Bel Air Saint-Emilion Grand Cru Classé 1983
Barsac "Cypres de Climens", Cháteau Climens 2000

I found the champagne very new, crisp, refreshing and it wasn't too bubbly, old, or fanciful. The 1983 Classé was lovely; it came with a beautiful rustic scent, was very rich yet vigorous and full-bodied. The Chablis was one of the best I've had; it was buttery crisp, dry enough, very fresh, with massive flavour but an elegant and tight finish. I'm not a big fan of dessert wine, however, and didn't fancy the sweet Barsac too much.

The food was good. It was exquisite enough yet not too rich. There was definitely some French influence but not stuffingly so. Still, I left thinking that whilst Lindsay House was a refreshing antidote to big, brash eateries with unknown chefs, I didn't get the wow! factor that I had with for example Nobu (http://www.nobumatsuhisa.com/flash/index.html) and Philippe Legendre's Le Cinq (http://www.fourseasons.com/paris/vacations/dining_77.html) at the George V, which incidentally is still the top restaurant on my list.

The exceptionally friendly service at Lindsay House was eager if a little amateurish. There was a very charming maitre'd but the waitors/waitresses seemed rushed and our private dining room was often left unattended.

When the levee breaks in the most powerful nation in the world...

There's something about this new tragedy I can't quite fathom.

For years, scientists have predicted something like this would happen and it's both funny and disparaging when you realise on retrospect the existential implications of living in a city that is largely below sea level but virtually surrounded by water. But when you think about the sort of advanced warning the Americans had, vis-a-vis the Tsunami tragedy, it's a tad disappointing and a major concern that things have turned out the way it has.

What is perhaps more stunning is news of looting, murder and anarchy, which I suppose seems inevitable in such circumstances when people live to survive. You would think, however, that the US authorities, by encouraging local citizens to move to the Superdome, would do more to prevent/have thought about and done more to prevent the sort of starvation, rape, gang/mob rule, and racial abuse we are seeing now.

I'm not sure how morbid/callous I sound when I say that the Americans in New Orleans have responded considerably worse on every level (individual, organisational, governmental) than those in some third world countries that have faced larger hurricanes and typhoons. Katrina has pounded the thin gauze of social cohesion and the heart of American solidarity and pride in a way that no terrorist attack can, and the US Government's response to this emergency is simply unbelievable. But with most of American resources stockpiled in the Gulf, one can't be too surprised at how poorly a rescue effort will come out of this.

I wonder what the Americans think of Bush and the Cheney administration in light of New Orleans. Are they still blind to the US Government's astonishing failure in Iraq and its (lack of any) organisational ability, hoping for some sort of a miracle or decisive action from Bush or his administration, or are they as I suspect seeing Dubya as what a doofus he really is?

The real lesson to come from Katrina, and perhaps this should teach Bush about some humility when he next decides to diss and abuse Kyoto, the environment and global warming again in light of economic self-interest and wilful ignorance, is that the dramatic flooding of New Orleans is but one graphic demonstration of global climate change models, is a precursor to what can be expected in the future, and should be a catalyst for real policy change. Which brings to mind the movie The Day After Tomorrow.

But perhaps now is the time for Chirac (and Shroder) to offer some fine French (and dare I say German) food to the starving of New Orleans and win an enormous debt of the American common man's gratitude.


New Orleans.

Snippets

God, where do I even start?

Life in the past two months has been somewhat akin to a shinkansen and I'm still rather zapped, despite a huge amount of sleep and lie-downs in bed. The deal I've been working on for the past 2 months "completed" on Tuesday morning, and I've been given some days off-in-lieu which means I won't be going into the office for the rest of the week. It has certainly been lush - waking up at noon everyday, chilling/lazing around, enjoying the good (sunny/toasting/boiling at times) weather - albeit a little surreal after 2 months of crazy hours culminating in a 120 hour week last week.

HR sends a (somewhat obligatory, and) short email asking if everything's alright once you clock up a certain threshold of hours (I don't know the exact figure but I think it's over 60ish). I'm speaking, of course, about trainees in the firm; I very much doubt the feasibility of doing the same with respect to associates. Getting the emails from HR is in a sense a rather nice gesture, but it also has the effect of reminding you that you've been missing out on a social life and, increasingly, the impetus to get to work everyday is diminishing with rapid speed...

So what exactly have I been up to?

Sometime back...

Saturday - Club session at Heaven with Leanne.
Sunday - Movie day (Skeleton Key - think the American south; voodoo/hoodoo magic hell-crap; twisted twist at the end, aka not a typical hollywood ending) at UGC Canary Wharf with Peter.
Tuesday - Missed the Stanchart 5km run at Hyde Park (which I had, funny enough, signed up for) as I was stuck in a conference call; ended up leaving the office fucking late, so no chance of meeting up mates for post-run drinks.
Wednesday - Business trip to Dublin; 17 hour day.
Thursday - Champagne reception; drinks with Felix.
Friday - Slight morning hangover; lunch with secretary at Pizza Express.
Saturday - Met Hani (visiting from Mancs) at Euston; quite an amazing lunch (foodwise) at Randall & Aubin (semi-chic champagne and oyster bar in Soho); Turnmills with Hani and 2 of his (rather infantile) mates.
Sunday - back to the office.

Fast forward then to Tuesday this week. Lunch at the OXO Towers - brilliant weather, balcony seating, good service, standardised food - which reminded me of lunch a few months ago with Rif at the members' room at the Tate Modern.

Wednesday evening. Met Dave for Mojitos at Cafe Kick (http://www.kipferl.co.uk/) at Exmouth Market, my local pedestrianised street hosting a row of eclectic bars/restaurants/shops, etc. Cafe Kick is my favourite nondescript evening bar and somewhat reminds me of Krobar in Manchester, only less chic (more down-to-earth) but certainly not cheap!

Thursday evening. The weather was looking dire, short of a rainy thunderstorm (I exaggerate), and I made the brave decision to go for a short jog along the Thames on my usual route. Feeling the cool crisp air (and dare I say, sweet river breeze) was very nice indeed. The regret of not being able to do this more often was quite genuine I think. I'm toying with the idea of a night/early morning jog sometime - the smell of sweet dusk/dawn air can be quite invigorating.

Friday morning. Woke up at 9, in anticipation of Chris coming in to clean the flat, and went out for a morning jog, followed by a visit to Kipferl (http://www.kipferl.co.uk/), an Austrian delicatessen 5 minutes away from the apartment, where I bought a pack of lush Manners (www.manner.com), and chilled for a bit at the Smithfields Carluccios (www.carluccios.com), before heading home. I'm so loving this life.

To be fair, whilst I'm no less chuffed that it has completed, I do appreciate the bloody steep learning curve I've experienced over working on this deal, and of course not forgetting the countless overnighters; the wry camaraderie with other team members; that business trip to Dublin - waking up at the ungodly hour of 4, taxi at 5, check-in at 6, airbourn at 7, dublin at 8, rushing for the return flight at 8, and back to LHR at 9; the shiatsu massage (the best thing to happen at the printers, other than the refridgerators, i shit you not); the uneasy relationship with the accountants; the pretty relaxed clients (we worry enough for them); and the brilliant finale (more of a "thank god it's finally over!").

I love Chris

Chris started working for us 2 Fridays ago. I shit you not when I say that she is the next best thing in London other than A. She mopped and vacuumed, did the loos and kitchen, and polished everything, including the bathroom handles! Weekends may now be spent chilling, meeting up with mates, and going out shopping in town. I'm so in love.