Black Pepper Crab, Durian Lingers...

And did I mention Durian lingers? Tuesday night we went out for dinner, about 12 of us from the office. It's always nice to go out with the bunch who work here, we laugh easily together and enjoy eachother's company, and the team love the fact that I'll try almost anything, within reason, which leads me to the title of the blog tonight.
Chad suggested we go for black pepper crab, and although the crabs were a bit smaller than usual last night, the taste was incredible. We headed out after work to Joo Chat neighborhood, which was quite quaint with older low rise buildings and deep, deep curbs.
We all piled onto the yellow plastic chairs of this corner instiution and Chad ordered like a pro. We chatted for a bit, but once the food came, it was serious business.
There are actually two popular crab flavors, one is chili crab, which I was not as fond of as the sauce was so spicy you lost the actual flavor of the crab, and then the pepper crab, which was fantastic! I can't wait to have it again.
In spite of absolutely stuffing ourselves with crab, Chad suggested we go across the street to a Durian cafe. Durian is a fruit grown locally that is very popular here. Honestly, it smells so distinctive you could not mistake it for anything else! The flavor is equally as distinctive, and Chad (again, he's such a pro) orders two D24, which is a bitter sweet flavor of durian, and the highest grade. The actual process of chopping open the spiky fruit is quite fascinating, and the fruit grown in little clusters inside a pilth.
How would I describe my first durian experience? I would just say I am glad I tried it. I think it is an acquired taste and if you grew up with the taste and flavor and texture and smell, I can see how it would be missed if you no longer had it around.
I would not make a special trip for it, but I have to thank the gang here for giving me the chance to try.

Trinkets and Trash

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maneki_Neko

After breakfast on Sunday I did a bit of local shopping and then walked over to Chinatown. I had a request from a friend for a Merlion lighter, and the last time I was here I had discovered this great little beachwear store that I wanted to head back to.
Chinatown in Singapore is the land of Trinkets and Trash. Want a Singapore magnet/key chain/bottle opener/t-shirt/ashtray/merlion statue/merlion lighter (ding, ding, ding!!), well, Chinatown is the land of 3 for $10 souvenirs. It's fun to browse and wander through. I stopped into the Buddhist temple for a minute, and was asked several times where I was from. One man commented I was a strange woman to leave my husband at home! I had to laugh at that one.

Another quest was a Happy Cat. The last time I was here, Akshey from the office brought me to Little India, where we had excellent food at Mustard, and then walked around for a bit. There are also many 3 for $10 stores in that area, and when I was with him, I picked up my first Happy Cat, or Maneki Neko, for which the literal translation is Beckoning Cat. At the time I decided that a collection was going to be required, and have committed to picking a different one up whenever I visit Singapore. For the record, my first Maneki Neko was plastic, white, solar powered so her arm waves perpetually. She sits in the window of the study, waving tirelessly at passerby.
So, I was on a bit of a hunt. I saw many Maneki Nekos, but they had to call out to me, to speak to me. Grabbing the nearest cat was not acceptable, it had to be special, and of course they all have to be different, too. Just as I was about to give up for the day, I noticed a window display in a bit more of a fancy shop. They had a whole big bunch, big, small, and although lovely, none had yet to beg me to bring them home, until I discovered this little set::
Tiny little fridge magnets (picture to follow when stupid BlackBerry elects to work again...)
Perfect.

Bejing in 1 hour?

Well yes, here I am, back in Singapore. I wondered if I should blog this time, but as usual, Day 1 and I think: I totally need to blog this...
I am now in the Amara Hotel, where they have upgraded me to a Tropical 6 room, which is on the same floor as the pool and gym, has hardwood floors and high ceilings, but windows start at 7 feet up, and there are no long strings to open the curtains, so i have hardwood floors but no natural light. Upgrades continue to amaze me. The roti man recognized me this morning at the breakfast buffet and made me 2 roti with which I ate my egg and spread my lovely Boursin cheese onto. My friend Chad picked me up last night and then we scooted over to Lau Pha Sat (big food court) to pick me up something to eat, I was starving and dying of thirst. It was so nice to see his kind face at the airport, to be recognized at the hotel and to know my way around a bit. Makes business travel so much more fun.
The main thing I wanted to blog about today, though, was my funny experience at the Beijing Airport yesterday. Chad was convinced I was going to get stuck in China, but no, in spite of my bare minimum 1 hour connection, I did make the flight. (Carry on only, for those who are wondering if my luggage made it...)Transferring in airports is always a bit interesting, as every airport is different. I hear transferring at my home airport in Toronto is, in a word, stupid. I apologize now to all in transit passengers on behalf of my city planners.
When I disembark from the Boeing 777 in front of me is a counter that says "international transfers". Three people are working the desk, but no one is moving. After a few moments, a gentleman shows up who instructs those of us with boarding passes to go straight to our left and then down one level to our gates. Great. Well, around the corner to the left is the immigration hall, which is PACKED with probably close to 1000 people, lined up in at least 10 lines and packed from the "wait at this line" yellow line to the back wall. A solid mass of people. I'm standing there, looking for something that tells me where I am supposed to be. Way at the far end of the hall is a sign that says "International Transfers". Hmmm. And so, in good Canadian form, I make my way through the mass of humans with a "'scuse me, pardon me, 'scuse me..." The seas part, one person at a time. At one point I look behind me and realize that I have some followers. The gentleman looks at me as says, "KEEP GOING!!!". I smile and plow through.
When we are spit out at the other end, a short 10 person line await us for our connecting flights. The man behind me thanks me for blazing the way, and we chat while we wait for the facial recognition technology to process our actual pictures against our passport pictures via immigration (very interesting technology, must research it more...).
Lessons learned:

• When I say excuse me, I want you to move. Having me roll my bag over your feet is your own fault.
• Look far away to find the place you need to be.
• Brush your teeth before you get off a 20 hour flight, just in case a friend surprises you at the other end.