monkeycrap's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Canada trip - Day 8 Day 8 - Noraebang II: Out of tune, out of mind I happened to meet this lovely British couple at the foot of Grouse. By an unusual sprinkle of fate, they happened to also be on the same bus to Lonsdale. By an even more unusual sprinkle of fate, they happened to live in Singapore for 3 years. I found it kinda weird to be talking about Holland Village and the extent of the Old Changi Hospital's hauntedness(their daughter was delivered there) on a slow bus ride in North Vancouver. But that's the way chance works, I guess. I am a full-fledged believer in the theory of 'Six degrees of separation'. As much as I am of Murphy's Law. So he's a retired navy captain, which was reflected on his distinguished, wrinkled, weather-beaten frontage. He's dined in Doha and digeridooed in Darwin. A walking, talking granary of first-hand experiences and travel information. His wife, unassuming, modest and fully devoted to him; her British charm subtly hidden behind her thick-rimmed gargantuan plastic spectacles. Practicality over image. Talked to them for half an hour, but it felt as if I knew them for, well, two hours. They gave me travel advice, asked me about my life, doled out countless anecdotes about their travels and of course, wished me all the best in my future endeavours. Aye aye, captain. I was advised by them to visit Whistler. However, I couldn't make the journey as I had to meet my dad and friend in Seattle two days later. Which is how I decided on lazing around at Carrie's place, in UBC, for the next 2 days. People in Vancouver, warm, friendly and very amiable. Yet, the individualism, the focus on the self, the can't-be-bothered-ness of what others think, it's something to be emulated I feel, if only to a certain degree. It is not unusual in Vancouver, to see people alone in bars, eating alone (in restaurants, mind you) or lying down alone half naked on grass patches during sunny days, reading their copy of Da Vinci Code, or an equally intellectually stimulating copy of Maxim. In Singapore, I feel, this behaviour is perceived by many as 'not cool', and is generally frowned upon by the Social Society of Singaporean Sociables. Breakfast was at Vera's burger. The G-money is uncontestably the best burger I've ever eaten in my life. Ramly at Cameron Highlands comes in at 2nd place. But the G-money. It huge. It big. It very very good. You open wide, real wide, and try to fit the layers of good stuff in. You do, after 3 valiant tries. Then you chew. Once, twice, thrice. Then POW! Burst flavour explosion! Dijon and onions! 2 hit combo! Right up your nose and through your nasolarchrynal duct. But any tears soon turn into tears of joy when you reach the meat. Grilled to flawless perfection. Slightly charred on the outside, sweet, sweet red on the inside. Burger King's patties melt in your mouth, Carl's Jr's dissolves. Vera's Burger patties sublimate. Damn good. Went with Carrie and family to a Korean restaurant for dinner, where 5 of us couldn't finish a 2-people set. How they can call it a 2-people set remains an unsolved mystery until this day. Dan Brown should write his next book on it. After that, noraebang! One thing weird about the karaoke machine is that the songs are aplenty, but the videos are few. So you get a video of a girl preparing for her wedding day, when you sing Creed's One Last Breath. "Hold me now, I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking, that maybe six feet, ain't so far down..." Totally doesn't make sense. Actually it does you know. Marriage is a form of death anyway. But let's not go into that here. 4:05 p.m. - 2006-06-02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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