The Colors of Cronulla

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There is something intoxicating about oceans that makes me walk straight into them like a sailor to the sirens. Scratch that. Like a bee to honey. Hmmm not quite. Like a drunkard to the bar? I can’t describe it. I just get this crazy love look in my eyes and a bounce in my step that is nothing but trouble.

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This is the tidal pool in Cronulla, a coastal suburb of Sydney. I can’t believe how blue it is here. The ocean and the sky. I’ve seen a lot of ocean and a lot of sky in my life but this is something else. This is completely BIG and BRIGHT like something a child would color and you’d look and think silly child, oceans aren’t that blue, but it’s nice you’re still innocent to the imperfections of the world.

Well, I’m sorry hypothetical dreamer child. I was wrong.

That ocean exists and it lives in Australia.

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Yesterday I walked straight into it. Except unlike this photo it was 4 pm and massive silvery dark waves the color of mercury were crashing into the pool as the tide came in.

A big part of me is still scared of the ocean, but it’s a justified reverential fear, like how you’d feel if you were standing in the middle of god.

There are maybe two or three other things that draw out my love look. No, none of them involve an actual flesh and blood human. That would be too easy.

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One of the other things is this. Or rather, what’s down inside it.

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Iridescent top shell (?) almost camouflaged against the rock.

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Limpets, or as a friend calls them, mini volcanoes, looking dazzling and polished in the water. I love all the colors and patterns that happen on their small shells.

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Sea snails huddled together as the sun sets.

You see, just next to that big blueness there’s a whole world of small things happening, and I love small things.

All the miraculous little lives, so much magic right under our noses.

Boring Shmoring, 7 Things to Occupy Your Time in Singapore

Boring.

It’s the adjective I hear most frequently pop up when travelers talk about Singapore. As in,Why are you going to Singapore? It’s so boring!

My response: a) To a lot of people “back home” Singapore sounds really exotic, b) I guess so if you don’t like big cities, but c) if you’re bored you probably aren’t doing the right things*:

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Hong Kong: Eat Soup for Dessert!

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Soup was never my favorite thing to eat until I tried the spicy noodly Asian kind, and now here’s this bizarre marvel that I fell in love with in Hong Kong. Fruity and refreshing, hot or cold, with ice cream or without, creamy or lumpy, with glutinous and jelly thingies floating in it or without. So many possibilities, so many surprising new textures and flavors I didn’t know which kind to try first. Continue reading

Hong Kong: Eat Breakfast Like a Local at the Cha Chaan Teng

I love a good food surprise, like when I found out that a) there is a traditional Hong Kong Breakfast and b) it involves macaroni and ham together in a soup. What? Plus, you get to eat it at a Cha Chaan Teng, fun to say! It just means tea canteen and is a place to grab a quick bite. They used to be called Bing Sutt (also fun to say) but I was informed the term is no longer in use.

 

This food surprise, and many others in Hong Kong, is brought to us by Gigi, a Hong Kong native who loves to eat as much as I do. Thanks, G. Continue reading

Goodbye Thailand, Hello Singapore

Getting to know the real Thailand has been difficult. Tourism is big here and I don’t blame locals for being jaded by the constant flow of foreigners, but life is different here this week.

I’m the last guest in this cluster of bungalows where I’ve lived the past two months (wasn’t I supposed to leave two weeks ago?) and have been adopted by the family that runs the place. I’ve gradually crept my way into the kitchen, leaning over shoulders while they pound curry paste and helping prep vegetables for the wok. At dinnertime today I was pointed in the direction of the fridge. Continue reading

Travel Can’t Change You, But it Can Give You Time to Change Yourself


When I set off on this trip nearly seven months ago I not so secretly hoped it would be the magic reset button for my life, that something would shift in me as I shifted from place to place.

But travel in and of itself can’t change you. The act of being in different places doesn’t automatically mean you’ll become a different person. Sure I’d had some grand new experiences but after the first four months on the road I was still plagued by the same hang-ups, anxieties, and grief I’d set off with. It didn’t matter how many times I packed my bags and left, I still took myself with me. Not only had I not changed, I was more frustrated with myself than ever. Continue reading