Nikon's Colors of Crowne

A couple of months ago I found myself at Crowne Plaza Changi Airport. 

And because I happened to not only have Chonkycam with me but also Nikon Pink, I thought it a good idea to grab a few shots of the place there.

I didn't have to take everything, I realized, and so snapped pictures of just the lobby, and the swimming pool. 

There was just one problem.

I didn't have much of a story, and so wasn't sure what it was I wanted to take. 

But hey, a lobby's a lobby. 

So, yeah, I got these.

They aren't very dramatic, nor very fanciful, these pictures.

But they are what they are. 

And they're just what the lobby of Crowne Plaza is like. 

Subtle, quiet, and business-like with pops of color here and there.

This is not a place of ornate, carved furniture near the check in counters, nor of gold-colored carpeting for Christian Louboutins and Jimmy Choos to step on.

It is, however, a place where cute little horseshoe-shaped seats are right in front of the counters large enough for you to put a carry on bag, and comfortable enough for you to sink in, curl up or lounge down, depending what you want. 

It's not a small sun-lit type of lobby, by the way. 

Behind the escalators are the function rooms and the ballrooms stretching all the way to the end, and on the other side, the drinks area, with both indoors and alfresco, where inside there're seats in the form of wide sofas and power sockets right next to the sofas themselves, and outside, huge high-backed cushioned chairs made out of rattan.

I didn't spend a lot of time at the lobby this time round. 

Instead I headed for the pool. 

It's an ordinary-looking pool, I would say, but a very pretty one. 

It's a place where you can sit out and look up at the sky. 

It's also a place where you can have a quiet conversation face to face, or with someone over the phone.

I should know.

Because that's what I did. 

Two nights in a row I sat on this chair looking up at the rooms with their lights on, and to the iconic Control Tower hidden all the carefully landscaped tall palm trees, speaking to someone (whom I now no longer wish to speak to) for an hour, over the phone.

Calculated AURORA

I'm the sort who doesn't like to talk about my previous jobs very much.

Maybe because I consider myself to have had a rather divergent career, and because one doesn't (commonly) have anything to do with the other, I mention them almost nearly not at all. 

But once in a while little things pop up just to remind me just how far on this career journey I have come.

You might imagine it to be a person I met, a photograph, a newspaper article, a document or even a saved file from long ago.

But it was this. 

A calculator. 

A simple AURORA calculator bought from the Popular Bookstore when it was still in Orchard Road many years ago. 

I hadn't realized it all this while, but I had actually been carrying her around throughout the course of my career since Day One when I began my first job in my first workplace earning my first pay cheque. 

A long time ago I used to be a telemarketer.

As a telemarketer I had to calculate just how many shows I had to sell, and more importantly, just how many shows I had actually sold. 

Let's just say the job involved a lot of calling from one landline to another.

And a lot of leaving of messages with the hope that the other party would call back.

The numbers punched into this calculator at that time were on the double-digit side. 

They increased significantly in the next job thereafter. 

Not that they escalated from double-digits to triple or quadruple at once, but cumulative double-digits do add up and that's what I punched in- regularly. 

It's interesting how the numbers 30 and 50 don't look like a lot when seen on their own but put them in sets of 40 or 50 each and it's not so small anymore. 

In the course of this job, there were other numbers that I had to put in, of course- quantitative data representing people or programs or percentages. 

Which I did, annually. 

I did it for about three years. 

After that I moved on, and AURORA The Calculator moved along with me. 

At this new place she was used no more for the sole purpose of reporting, but for things like costing, budgeting, numbers and the like.

Not easy, I tell you, when you're working for those who stinge  resources and costs to the max and demand costs so low that you need an extensive network, and the intervention of the Spirit to drop solutions for problems others have created. 

Still, it was fine. 

Even if for a very short time. 

That being said, no one could have foreseen just how heavily she would be used in a mere few years forward.

It was for a much more critical goal and a much more critical purpose this time. 

It's one thing to report numbers (as they are) and bear little responsibility for it. 

It's another thing, however, to report numbers (as they are) and know that the act of punching in those figures itself has a role in proving presumptions, and assumptions wrong, with consequences that have significance- in one way or another, otherwise.

We had consequences that we are thankful for. 

AURORA isn't very heavily used these days. 

But that's because she rides on a slightly different role. 

Still, she's here- alongside with me on the journey- in different aspects- and I hope she'll have as many pleasant stories to tell- for a long, long time. 

One Farrer Hotel

It was quite a delight coming back here to this place after having been away for so long. 

I was glad to see that nothing (much) had changed- One Farrer Hotel more or less still looked the same- except maybe the buffet restaurant that used to be on the ground floor was now no more, replaced, instead, by a Chinese cuisine restaurant, which, judging by the groups standing by the entrance outside, looked popular with families and friends alike. 

We were given a room on one of the upper floors this time. 

I'd have loved to have the room with the longish foyer like what we had before, but we didn't get that one. 

Instead we got a room that had a nice wooden ledge right by the window next to my side of the bed.

I loved it. 

There was enough space for me to sit cross-legged, I could lean against the wall and write, and I could chuck my overnight bag onto the ledge and lay everything out.

Best part was that I could take pictures of the view outside with ease.

The view was marvelous, by the way. 

From where I stood on the upper floors of One Farrer, the buildings from the road below the hotel (Race Course Road? Tessensohn Road?), Owen Road, Starlight Road, Rangoon Road, Dorset Road, and the flats of Pek Kio Market at the back. 

It also covered the flats of Farrer Park, and Dorset, all the way to the CTE and beyond. 

From our window we could see the distinctive building of TTSH in the distance, and further beyond, the high rise condos of Moulmein and Novena. 

I found myself especially fascinated by the sight of this school building right below our window. 

I don't quite know which era it is- I should think it's probably the 50s or the 60s- and it made me wonder, because I know for a fact that this was a residential estate that time as much as it is now, and was this school already there back then? 

It's not every day that I get to be in such close proximity with a school of such architecture, and from a birds eye view, to boot. 

So, next day after a lunch of briyani mutton and butter chicken at Sakuntala's along Race Course Road, I went to take a closer look. 

But I didn't go in.

The building now houses the Singapore Indian Fine Arts Society and it's not wise to intrude on artists in midst of rehearsal, even if all you want to do is to take a picture of the staircases, the stairwells, the school corridor, the old school tuckshop and maybe an old classroom or two. 

That opportunity shall have to wait for another day (if ever there be one)

Honestly, it doesn't matter whether I get to see the school or not. 

I'm pretty content to take a wander around this area.

Because there's a lot to see. 

Yet, at the same time it's difficult to know where to start. 

It's a little embarrassing, but despite having a rough perspective of the area. I actually had no idea where to go after walking out from Starlight Road where the school was. 

So I simply made a right and turned onto Owen Road. 

From there I made another right onto Dorset Road (with her charming apartments) then went onto Rangoon Road. 

It might have been better had I started from the public housing blocks at the Farrer Park side. 

It might have been even better had I gone all the way to the back where the flats near the CTE expressway are. 

But I was curious about Owen Road. 

Not so much for the coffee shops, the trading companies and the eating houses that line along the shop houses there, but the plot of land where a VWO organization/school once used to be. 

It's long gone now, this school for handicapped children.

But I remember the place.

And I remember some of them. 

I sometimes wonder whether the girl with Down Syndrome continues to read her books as enthusiastically the way she did do when she was in the classroom at school. 

I also wonder about the girl with muscular dystrophy and whether she still has someone's arm to grip (tightly) on whilst she concentrates on brushing her teeth. 

I had thought I knew what the shops in the shop houses along Rangoon Road and Owen Road were. 

But no, I didn't. 

I didn't know what they were.

So, yes, it gave me a bit of surprise when I saw (import-export) trading companies, equipment trading companies, and even electrical hardware companies tucked between random cafes offering espressos, lattes, cold brews, smoothies, brunch plates and even, cake. 

Not to mention, there were a fair number of vehicle workshops (or something) too. 

It's a bit of interesting juxtaposition seeing these shops reflect the different eras. 

Especially when you consider that this estate has been around for a fairly long time. 

How long exactly she has been here, I don't know, but I estimate it must be for more than 70 years, because The Parent had lived here as a child and had even gone to school here. 

Which house it was that The Parent lived, I'm not sure, but there are some houses that look distinctly familiar, and there're many others that have rather quaint architecture.

I was drawn to this particular building that had sturdy rectangular balconies on both floors, and shutters for windows, open on all sides. 

There were some houses with very interesting gates. 

And I caught sight of an L-shaped street that reminded me  of this stretch near Bendeemer Road and MacPherson Road. 

I really wish I had had the time to explore a bit further beyond Owen Road, Rangoon Road and Dorset Road. 

Or that I had had the time to go eat at some of the popular stalls in Pek Kio Market and Hawker Center. 

But I couldn't. 

Pek Kio seems to be a sort of breakfast-brunch place, and we didn't have time. 

That's not to mean that we didn't have lots of delicious food though. 

On the contrary, I felt like we ate a lot. 

Like this surprise hotpot and grill buffet at a place right next to Chinatown MRT at Pagoda Street. 

Like the mutton briyani and butter chicken which we had at Sakunthala's on Race Course Road.

Like this deliciously breaded pork fillet and this amazing dessert of mochi waffle and honeycomb ice cream at Bugis Plus.

And breakfast of kaya toast, coffee and eggs, at Ya Kun Kaya Toast in City Square Shopping Mall opposite Serangoon Road. 

I don't have many pictures of One Farrer Hotel herself (this time)

But I have one of the pool. 

And yes, despite it not being very fancy, was comfortable, quiet, and restful. 

Donburi at Aperia

You know, if there's something about life that I've learnt all these years, it is to 'never say never'.

Doesn't matter what it is.

It might be something bombastic- like an experience which you thought you wouldn't have, a person you'd never meet- or it might be something simple- like entering a mall for a meal which you previously thought you'd never would.

I never thought I'd go to Aperia Mall on Lavender Street for a meal.

But then came Valentine's Day this year and I've since happily changed my mind. 

No matter if I don't wish to have McDonalds, Tim Ho Wan or Ya Kun Kaya Toast. 

There's a Ichiho Donburi & Sushi- on the second floor- that I'll make a special trip for, and will go to.

The food there's pretty good. 

Shall I say that it came as quite a surprise? 

That I hadn't been expecting such a quantity and quality, or even this level of detail, but everything turned out otherwise?

You see, instead of a poorly-breaded, overly-fried, dry, hard piece of katsu dumped on top of cold, ill-comforting rice, I got a thick piece of very well-breaded pork filet that contained a flavor and a crisp so on point that I could feel, and hear the crunch of the breaded skin over every bite. 

I loved how juicy and tender the pork was.

I also loved the contrast of textures that this particular dish gave me. 

It wasn't just on the filet itself.

Mixed between the slice of pork filet was the very soft, mushy scrambled which gave off a lovely, moist feel that sank into each breaded slice and slid comfortably over your tongue. 

They'd taken effort with the spring onions and the seaweed too.

So good it was that we ordered a separate piece of katsu ala carte, and munched happily through it just the same.

Katsu, however, wasn't all that we had for Valentine's Day. 

There was another bowl of salmon don for my friend, and whilst I don't have pictures of this bowl, we were impressed by the charming way the thick, cold, fresh slices of salmon sashimi had been arranged over the warm, fluffy rice, and the smooth, chewy texture of the fish itself.

I think the generous portion of fish roe made him extra happy. 

Perhaps the best thing about the food here at Ichiho was just how fresh all of them were. 

None of it made me feel like they'd been half-heartedly done. 

None of it made me feel like it was microwaved or hurriedly thrown into the pan.

And the quality wasn't only present with the mains.

It was with the sides too. 

Like the two cute slices of sashimi that came with the salmon don set, the fresh salad of vegetables, sliced cucumber and red cherry tomato, the pile of shredded cabbage that came with the ala carte katsu, and the crispy, hot dish of deep-fried salmon skin that we'd specially ordered as an appetizer. 

All About Hair at BRANCHE

It seems ridiculous, silly even, but I've been struggling to write this article like six times now, and I don't know why. 

I don't know why it is I can't seem to talk (or write) properly about hair salon BRANCHE that's centrally located in the basement of Capitol Piazza along Stamford Road.

Because, in all honesty, how difficult can it be?

How difficult can it be talking about Japanese-style head massages, Japanese-style hair cuts, and Japanese-style hair spas in a salon that has Japanese roots staffed by people who hail straight from Japan?

Yet, here I am, struggling- for the umpteenth time.

It's very irritating.

By all means it should be easy to talk about. 

Might it be, I wonder, that there's so much to talk about I don't know where to start?

Like, I want to tell you about the lobby of the spa side that's been so carefully calibrated to the sense that the cool, comfortable light makes the place look like it's washed in shades of gold, camel bronze, elegant black and forest green. 

And that the room which the lady brought me to was small and cozy with a wash basin (I think), a single recliner chair placed against the wall, and the softest, fluffiest full-sized blanket I had ever felt or seen.

I loved the blanket so much I spent the entire session clutching parts of it in my hands with my arms tucked underneath.

I wish I knew how to describe the head massage that she gave me. 

But (despite watching all the videos on Youtube channel ASMR Twix) the technical terms are still baffling. 

All I can tell you is that she worked her fingers over various parts of my head.

There were some points she pressed down.

There were other points she massaged.

Certain parts at my head's crown I know she pressed down. 

Then certain parts behind my ears, and the back left, back right of my head she massaged a couple of minutes too.

I can't remember whether she pressed down on the center top of my head.

I also can't remember whether she massaged the back center of my head all the way down to my neck. 

The much-calmed and slightly stoned me was half asleep by then.

But I can tell you I'll be coming back for the head massage. 

And I can tell you I'll be coming back for the hair cut, wash, and blow dry too. 

Because if there's anything that means something to me, it is that they've brought their expertise from home country all the way here for individuals who haven't had the chance to experience them first-hand yet. 

It isn't just in the brand name or the skill or the training. 

It's in the way they design your hair according to your face frame. 

It's in the way they make sure you somehow end up looking Japanese even though you didn't intend to. 

And it's in the way they apply cooling gel onto your hair and your head after your shiatsu-style head massage is over.