A glimpse of paradise (good luck for Monday).

I should point out that due to a general slowness in posting, I am not currently in Bali as may be suggested-- I am back in Taiwan, currently working a 9 am to 9 pm schedule (only for four more days!). But I'll keep us on the island a little longer-- I thought maybe you and I could both use a shot of Bali green on this Monday to keep us going.

Enjoy.

Order the pig.

I couldn't decide whether seeing the pig's head pointed at me was actually appetizing or not, but at the very least I was intrigued. My eyes had originally been drawn to the neatly arranged rows of jars and bottles at this Bali market's stand, but the pig certainly was an attention grabber. So I stopped, and tried to find out more about it. The woman behind the counter greeted me, and showed me to a glass display case containing bowls of fresh salads. "Lawar babi", she explained to me; the words meant nothing to me then, I would have to look them up later. She pointed to the pig again, and then her own cheek, indicating that if I tried the lawar, I would be treated to some of the animal's face. I wasn't hungry, but I had to try it. She grabbed a paper cone, scooped in some rice, then spooned on some of the lawar. To complete the dish, she ripped shreds off the pig's head, and folded them up into the parcel.

I didn't open the package until later, when we were sitting, legs tucked under the tables at Ibu Oka. Specializing in Balinese suckling pig, babi guling (a heap of which is pictured top right), Ibu Oka is famous worldwide. We had just had our plates set before us: waxy brown paper holding small mountains of rice, topped with tender shreds of pork and crispy squares of skin and fat. The first bite explained and validated the restaurant's fame: the crunch of the skin released a melting burst of rich, luxuriant pork flavor. 

Mid-meal, I remembered the package from the market still in my bag. It might seem like over-kill to pull out the lawar babi at this point, but I decided that if I was already indulging this much, I might as well just give in. I pulled it out, unwrapped it, and put it on the table to share. Amazingly, and this may just have been the rush of fat to my brain, it outshone the meat we had been consuming. While the pork in the lawar was not as good as Ibu Oka's-- the skin didn't crackle as much, the fat wasn't as tender-- the rest of the dish compensated: young jackfruit, green beans, shrimp paste, and shredded makrut lime leaves gave it an intensely exotic flavor. 

But either way, market stand lawar babi or Ibu Oka babi guling, order the pig in Bali and you won't be disappointed.

beautiful/grotesque.

While visiting the puras of Bali I was really struck by a feeling of balance. Yet while religious spaces may generally have an air of serenity, what makes these temples most striking is how that feeling comes from the drastic use of both the beautiful and the grotesque in the same site: a grimacing guardian may look over a pool of delicate lotuses. For while to my Catholic-school reared mind concepts like 'good and evil' exist in dichotomy, they cohabit in the Hindu traditions of Bali; creation and destruction are not discreet forces, and that which is the most terrifying can also be the most protective. And certainly, the beauty of these spaces would not have been as sharply illuminated without their equal use of the grotesque. 

Yet another product of my schooling I'm happy to leave by the roadside.

culturedPRIMITIVE/stockist: Muji Hex Double-Ended Pens.

I love to travel and I love to sketch, but I've never been able to be the kind of traveller who sketches. I think that when I'm exploring a new place, I have an easier time pulling out my camera than pulling out a sketchbook and some pens. But I'm trying to change that. On this trip to Bali I packed a new sketchbook (in the hope that I would feel compelled to fill the clean white pages) and a variety of Muji's Hex Double-Ended Pens. With one end a felt-tip brush and the other a thin pen, I could vary my line without having to dig a different pen out of my bag. And with a variety of nuanced greens and bright tropical hues on offer, I was really able to capture some of my island surrounds.

Island of the gods.

Many people visit Bali just to do a little pura gazing, and understandably so; they're rewarded with some of the most spectacular Hindu temples in the world. Moreover, the beauty of many of these sacred sites are multiplied by the incredible natural environments that surround them, whether they are perched on the edge of a rice terrace, or hidden in a valley dripping with tropical plants. Perhaps the most spectacular was Ulun Danu (pictured above), which rests in a mist-enshrouded caldera lake in the island's breezy highlands.

Bali Bamboo.

I loved the abundance of bamboo in Bali, where it was seen not just growing alongside rice paddies, but also as a material for architecture and design. It's such an incredible material; easily renewable and incredibly strong, but also beautiful in a very subtle way. The above shot is of a building under construction, and while the bamboo is just a temporary frame for building, I think it would be stunning if they could complete the house with the tangle of bamboo visible and intact. Who wouldn't want to live in their own personal bamboo grove?

Bali Colors: heat and relief.

For my color series I usually isolate one color that defined a place for me, but the color scheme of Bali was a little too complex for that tactic. So much of the beauty of Bali was in its carefully balanced opposites; the good and evil in its religious epics, the beautiful and the grotesque in its temple architecture, the fire of a sambal and the cool bite of lime in its food. So in its colors too, it makes sense, there was a balance; between the heat of bursts of pink, orange and red, and the relief of deep green. 

Bali.

I have just returned from Bali, and I think I am still recovering from what an incredible destination it was. I had expected to like it, but not to love it-- and certainly, not to love it as much as I did. The idea of 'Bali' seemed like such a cliche that I was sure it would be one big tangle of resorts, or perhaps just feel like a letdown. But this island was full of surprises. Like the seemingly endless miles of brilliant green rice terraces, hemmed in by bamboo groves and coconut palms. And the grandeur of the temples, trimmed with ornate details and surrounded by lush gardens. Or how incredible mealtime was-- the fresh bite of lawar, the richness of suckling pig, the flavors of coffee, vanilla and palm sugar. Or how neatly the quiet threads of ritual seemed to run through Balinese daily life. The island not only surprised me with every day, but it also shook me out of my jaded state, and reminded me of what I love about Asia-- and made me thankful that I'm able to live here.

Colors of Malaysia.

The remnants of a meal we enjoyed in Melaka may not be the most attractive subject for a photo, but when our dishes were piled up I was struck by one of the things I love most about Malaysia: the fantastic, over-the-top color sense that flows throughout the country. From the local architecture to the clashing shades on a kopi’s chopsticks and plates, this is a country that isn’t afraid to clash. And while some shades should seem not to work together, like lime green and electric tangerine, they somehow balance out and get along beautifully. Not a bad symbol for a country as diverse as Malaysia.

eatingCULTURE/eaten: Cendol.

In moving traveling from Taipei to Borneo, we had to make a quick adjustment from the cold, wet winter weather of Taiwan to the sweltering tropical heat of Malaysia. Thankfully, we were able to find an aid to that transition. While walking through the market in Kota Kinabalu, we saw vendors with large plastic tubs filled with strange neon-green squiggles, explained only by signs advertising ‘cendol’. While we initially eyed this strange dessert with skepticism, it quickly became our daily treat, and our favorite way of cooling off.

A sweet dessert ‘soup’ made of bright green mung-bean-flour threads served with a mound of ice and coconut milk, cendol was served rather simply in Sabah. In Melaka, we sampled a much more mature version of cendol, in which red beans were mixed among the threads of cendol. While they might have made the dessert a little more savory, the effect was balanced out with a dark swirl of gula melaka, the rich local palm sugar. It added an additional complexity to the dessert.

But to be honest, while I can appreciate the Melaka version as a superior product, there’s something I rather liked about the simple cendol we got in Borneo. Without the red beans and the darkly-sweet palm sugar, it was uncomplicated and uncluttered, creamy without being too rich or too complex; satisfying in the same way that a simple scoop of vanilla ice cream might be more refreshing than a rich gelato on a hot summer day.

A Quick Jaunt to Melaka

We were having a good time in Sabah, but we had to admit—not a great time. When we were living in Cape Town, we’d really missed the great food, the dynamic cities, and the offbeat style of life in Asia—and we felt like we were still sort of missing that in Sabah. After leaving Sepilok we arrived in Sandakan, and in seeking lunch found a rather bleak market serving mediocre fare. This wasn’t why we were in Malaysia, we decided. So we bumped up our tickets, left Sandakan three days early, and made our way to Melaka.

I’d been curious to see Melaka, though having heard of what a tourist spectacle it’s become, I was a little nervous as well. Thankfully, our timing was good. We arrived on Sunday afternoon, just in time to see the dust settle from the crowds that had filled the town that weekend. In the place of the tourists, we found a fairly quiet town that seemed to be quietly going about its own business. And while we found some streets and neighborhoods that were terribly bland and characterless, we found much of the city to be inviting, engaging, and well supplied with places serving fantastic food.

Which is important for us. For while we spent time browsing among the shophouses, and visiting mosques, churches, and temples both Hindu and Buddhist, our main activity was eating. Before leaving Sandakan, I browsed through the archives of Eating Asia—easily the best way to make sure of having a good meal in Malaysia. Between following Eating Asia’s leads and a few lucky discoveries of our own, we ate spectacularly. Some of the highlights of our eating included:
1. Several bowls of laksa lemak, a creamy coconut-milk noodle soup with a slightly spicy curry bite.
2. Chee Cheong Fun, sheets of rice noodle folded over shrimp and pork, topped with crispy fried garlic.
3. We’d had some fantastic chicken rice in Malaysia, but the chicken rice balls at Hoe Kee were not only a novel take on the straits-favorite, but an incredibly delicious version as well.
4. Perhaps the strangest local specialty we tried with the pai tee, crunchy cups filled with braised yam bean, and topped with chili, shredded egg, and fried garlic.

Not pictured above, but just as delicious: oyster noodles and soft shelled crab at Teo Soon Long Chan, banana leaf curries and crispy roti tissue in Little India, and several bowls of cendol all over town. The town really exemplifies the diverse mix of cultures and cuisines that make eating in Malaysia so rewarding.

Before we changed our tickets in Sandakan, we briefly wavered, wondering if we should just stick it out in Sabah. I’m glad we didn’t. For though I’m sure you can have a great time in Borneo, we were really after a particular experience that we just weren’t getting. We’d been away from Asia for so long that it really felt great to reaffirm what we love about it: the culture, the style of it, and, most importantly, the great food. Because really, life is too short to put up with eating poorly. And in Asia, you’ve got no excuse.

A market by the sea.

While much of KK can seem a little washed out, there is one spot to visit if you're seeking color. Right on Kota Kinabalu's waterfront sits the town market. Where in a few hours crowds of locals and tourists will be dining on fried noodles and grilled squid at Kota Kinabalu's night market, a gentle trade takes place as people wander among the stalls, picking up a few ingredients here and there.

While some vendors sell fresh fruit, and others trade in lemongrass and chili, the big draw here is incredibly fresh seafood, pulled right off of boats as they pull up to land. There are fish, in orange, silver, and turqouise blue; piles of fat prawns; and beautiful crabs and lobsters, their claws held firm in rubberbands.

And if any of it looks tempting, remember to return in the evening for a dinner at the Filipino barbecue. Those same prawns could show up on your plate.

A day on the plate in Kota Kinabalu.

Despite the mystery and allure evoked by its name, something about Kota Kinabalu keeps it from being a particularly engaging city. It's a city of placid avenues and grid-like concrete buildings, too modern to be characterful, but just a little too worn to be graceful. But if there is one moment when the city may be redeemed, it's when its residents sit down to eat.

Many people take their meals under the swirling ceiling fans of kopitiam, Chinese style coffee shops. For breakfast, this is where to go for a warm, sticky glass of coffee, sweetened with condensed milk. If you're lucky, you'll also be able to find a plate of bread with kaya, a rich coconut jam.

The kopitiam stay in business all day; you'll be able to swing by again for lunch. Items on the menu range from Chinese favorites, like char siew (barbecued pork), to Malay, like laksa (noodles in a coconut milk curry), to Straits specialities, like chicken-rice (poached chicken served with a delicate soup and a mildly garlicy bed of rice). Sometimes the most satisfying meal is the most straightforward, like the above mee ayam: a pile noodles (mee) that have been wok-fried in kejap manis (a dark, sweet soy sauce) are topped with cleaver-cut slabs of delicious crispy skinned chicken (ayam).

Elsewhere, Indian style restaurants sell a diverse range of curries, made with chicken, lamb, and vegetables, or even squid and shrimp. A few select shops serve their curry on a banana leaf; more often, a more humble presentation involves a plastic plate and a mound of rice. Look for the large griddles to identify a shop specializing in roti canai, unleavened bread served with small dishes of curry, or murtabak, a folded roti canai filled with meat or vegetables.

You'll still find the city's restaurants and kopitiam awake at night, but for a more lively dinner, head toward the night market on the waterfront. The stalls at the centre of the market seem oddly lacking in variety-- most sell fried rice, fried noodles, or soto, a spicy soup-- but you'll likely find a cheap, tasty meal at least. Around the periphery are dessert shops-- perfect for the sultry Borneo evenings are shops selling cendol, a pandan flavoured dessert served over ice with a dash of coconut milk.

For a more unique dinner you'll need to penetrate the clouds of smoke toward the back of the market. There, you'll find yourself among the grills of the Filipino Barbecue, where vendors display dazzling piles of seafood-- massive prawns, formidible lobsters, and technicolor fish-- all available to be grilled and served with a dressing of chili. It's perhaps the cheapest spot to indulge in the incredible catch available off Borneo's coast.

To walk through the city at mealtime is to hear the sound of spoons scraping at woks and of roti being slapped onto the griddle, to see piles of gorgeous seafood, ducks hanging in shop windows, and trays of colorful curries. It's encountering the unique mix of cultures-- Chinese, Indian, Filipino and Malay-- and the contrasting geographies-- from the tropic seas to the fertile forests-- that make up KK. You might not always be able to see what's exciting about Kota Kinabalu, but at least you can taste it.

Islands of the South China Sea.

Though it feels like we just got to Taiwan (I guess we sort of did), we're departing again early tomorrow morning. We had a great time here-- so great that I spent more time just enjoying myself than blogging-- and have firmly made up our minds to come back in June, to spend at least one year here. This will be a return to an old home for Bordeaux, but a new one for me, and I'm looking forward to the opportunities it will present.

Our last time in Asia, we were based in Bangkok, which we used to great effect as a base for exploring continental Southeast Asia-- we covered lots of ground in the Mekong river basin, from the far reaches of Thailand, all the way down Laos, across Cambodia, and up the length of Vietnam.

This time, I'm hoping to get to know the islands of Southeast Asia. The quirky individuality of life in Taiwan has really given me an appreciation of island life, and I'm now eager to see what it's like on the neighbouring atolls. I'm hoping to explore new spaces, like Indonesia, Hong Kong, the Philippines, and the islands of the Straits. Altogether, the South China Sea makes up a strangely disparate community-- from the wild spaces of Borneo, to the gleaming emporiums of Singapore, to the high rises of Hong Kong.

We're getting an early start tomorrow: we're heading to Sabah, on Malaysian Borneo, for about two weeks before we continue on to visit family in ZA and the USA. We've done a little research, but we're doing this pretty blindly, to be honest. We're open to what we encounter, and looking forward to new suprises. Blogging will of course be irregular, but I'm looking forward to sharing a little of it with you as we go.

Style shopping in Bangkok.

Bangkok can be an ideal destination for shopping, but great style and prices aren't always easy to find. A few extra tips will ensure that you leave Krungthep with a happier suitcase.

Bordeaux, re-styled after a day in Bkk.

1. Check out the malls, even if you never take out your wallet. Bangkok has some of the most incredible shopping malls in the world-- like the elegant and high-end Gaysorn, hip and funky Central World, and classic Siam Paragon. The shops are a mix of international labels, with some local talent thrown in-- check out Greyhound (at Paragon) for offbeat Thai fashions, Thann (flagship store at Gaysorn) for incredible spa products, and Vanilla Industry (across from Siam Centre toward the back of Siam Square) for great lattes and cupcakes. But perhaps the best part of a day spent among these malls is the people watching-- it's a great way to get a sense of Bangkok style.

2. Give MBK a miss: At some point, the MBK shopping mall developed a reputation for being a great place for cheap shopping. Tourists weren't the only ones in on this secret however, and the vendors caught on. The result is that most of the clothing at MBK is aimed solely at tourists, and is not only overpriced, but severely lacking in style-- you'll see about twenty stalls selling an identical selection of tacky Beer Chang t-shirts.

3. Get to the Platinum Fashion Mall, and give yourself some time: The Platinum Fashion Mall is-- for now, anyway-- everything that people expect from MBK. The selection is staggering, and the prices are terribly low. It's a little harder to get to than MBK, being a bit of a walk up from Phloen Chit MRT Station on Phetchaburi Road, but it's worth the effort. But give yourself time to search-- the shops at this massive wholesale shopping mall are incredibly varied, though not all are worth a browse. Among the aisles and aisles of shops, you'll find hip clothes, particularly some great warddrobe basics, like simple cardigans, sunglasses, belts, and t-shirts in solid colors. It takes searching, but the clothes and their prices are worth it-- especially if you buy more than two or three pieces from a vendor, thereby earning a decent wholesale discount.

4. Hit up Chatuchak Market, but be selective: Spending a day at the Chatuchak Weekend Market (also known as the Jatujak Market, or the JJ Market) can easily go one of two ways: it can be a fantastic day of picking up style from hip Thai designers, or it can be a sensory overload of too much stuff that you have no interest in. The trick is knowing the layout of the market. The vast bulk at the centre of the market is of little interest for most shoppers, and many visitors get tripped up by simply heading inward and getting majorly overwhelmed in the process. For hip clothes, focus on the lane running parallel to Kamphangphet Road (the far left side of the market when viewed from the BTS station)-- it's particularly good for funky t-shirts and boutique stalls, with designers like the local Hey Pilgrim!. Later, head to the far opposite corner, where some small cafes are tucked in among artist's galleries.

5. If you can't make JJ, get to Suan Lum: It's not the same experience, and the prices are higher, but the Suan Lum Night Bazaar is certainly convenient. Firstly, it's right in the centre of Bangkok, being right up the stairs from the Lumphini MRT station. Secondly, it's open every night, so you don't have to time your visit to a weekend. Thirdly, the crowds are not as intense as at Chatuchak. So while the shopping may not be as rewarding, it's perhaps a more relaxed spot to pick up some t-shirts and a new pair of sunglasses.

So enjoy the city, bargain well-- and let me know if you find a local designer particularly worth seeking out.

A revelation, which should have been obvious.

I'm happier in Asia. I don't imagine it's hard to see why.

eatingCULTURE/eaten: Kraw-coo-ka-pi.

One of the last things I ate before leaving Bangkok was one of the first things I ate when I got back-- kraw-coo-ka-pi (to use the spelling provided on their sign). In this salad, a pile of brown rice is topped with a diverse mix of ingredients: coriander, chopped chili, strips of egg, spring onion, shallots, little dried shrimp, candied pork sausage and whole dried chili. A well scooped bite is a mix of fresh, salty, sharp, and spicy, with a tiny hint of sweetness. As a dish, it neatly sums up what I love about Thai food, and what I missed while I was away: fresh, distinctive flavors are combined to startlingly delicious results.

eatingCULTURE/eaten: Salt Encrusted Fish.

Our return to Bangkok was of course an excuse to indulge in some of our old favorite dishes, but it was also an opportunity to try a few things we'd always been curious about. With its body entirely coated in coarse salt, the grilled salt-encrusted fish had always intrigued me, but I'd never found the chance to try it. So when we passed by a stand that seemed to specialize in them, we took the hint, ordered one, and grabbed a table. The fish arrived with its salty-skin already peeled back for us, and accompanied by a small bowl of a spicy chili sauce. The fish's mouth had been stuffed with lemongrass, which gave a gentle flavor to its delicate white flesh. And the salt, somewhat strangely, gave the fish an added moisture-- by first leaching the moisture out of it, and then gently infusing it back in.

Round the South China Sea.

To follow up on my last post, I'm taking my own advice. We'll be packing up our little home in Cape Town, and heading back to Taiwan.

We're looking to potentially head back full time later next year, but in the meantime we're heading back on a short trip for the month of February. Things have been a little unsettled here as we get ready to leave-- I think the fact that three of my recent posts have been lists shows that I'm trying to make some order of these changes-- but we're unbelievably excited to be getting back to Asia. A year away has been far too long. We've managed to arrange our flights to really take advantage of this return... we'll be circling the South China Sea, stopping in Thailand en route to Taiwan, then returning to South Africa via Malaysian Borneo and Kuala Lumpur.

Meaning this here travel blog will once again feature some travel-- quite a novel idea, I know! It's been a long year of being settled, and it's time I got some new places featured on this blog...

Borneo.

There are probably more strategic ways of announcing this, but I'm very excited to share that there will be some major travel in this primitive's future. I'll wait to fill in the full plans, but I will say that we're planning a stop in Sabah, on Malaysian Borneo. I know that perhaps modern day Borneo doesn't look much like the above anymore, but the name 'Borneo' is one of those words that will likely always trigger flashbacks to those childhood fantasies of distant lands that made me want to travel in the first place...