A Saturday That Behaved Itself

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoFor once, the Saturday round had the decency to be brief. I went in braced for the usual open-ended morning and was pleasantly disarmed to find it wrapped up sooner than expected — one of those rare occasions when the work and the clock cooperate rather than conspire. I was home early enough to have lunch at the table, an ordinary thing made faintly luxurious by how seldom the timing allows it.

The afternoon was kept deliberately loose, the day's real business reserved for the evening. There is a particular pleasure in a weekend with a dinner pencilled in and nothing much before it — the gentle anticipation of an outing, with hours to spare before it arrives.

Idlan, ever attentive to the finer details, slipped off for a haircut first, then met us at Pavilion looking suitably tidied. We had booked RasaNya, a nyonya-themed steamboat place, which is precisely the sort of inventive idea that could go either way and, happily, went the right one. Idlan committed fully to a mala broth, the kind of decision that announces a young man's confidence in his own heat tolerance. Our own tom yam, ordered with the modest expectation of mild, turned out considerably fiercer than advertised — a reminder that one should never quite trust a broth that looks innocent. We ate well, and warmly, in every sense.

Afterwards we drifted over to Bangunan Sultan Abdul Samad to walk off the meal, the evening air doing its part to cool the lingering tingle of the broth. Idlan, with the unhurried instincts of his generation, steered us to Niko Neko for a matcha, while I opted for ice cream — the sweeter, simpler choice, and one I have no intention of apologising for. There is something companionable about each of us choosing our own indulgence and ambling along with it in hand.

We took our time with the stroll along the River of Life, that stretch where the old city wears its best lighting and the water is made briefly theatrical. By night it has a quiet grandeur, the historic façades softened and the river itself behaving as though it has always been this picturesque, conveniently forgetting its more workaday character by day. The place was still buzzing — couples, families, the usual evening crowd out enjoying the cool of it — and there is an easy contentment in being one small part of that, neither hurrying nor lingering, simply present.

It was the sort of Saturday that asks for nothing in particular and gives back a great deal. A short morning, a meal at home, an evening out with one of the boys, good food, a gentle walk, and a city looking its best. No grand events, no fireworks — only the steady accumulation of small, good things that, taken together, make for a thoroughly satisfying day.

We came home unhurried and well-fed, the broth still faintly making its presence known. Some Saturdays simply get it right. This was one of them.

The Second Verse of a Familiar Song

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoTwo holidays in a row is the sort of luck that ought to feel indulgent, though the wards remain stubbornly indifferent to such generosity. So once again I rose early, while the rest of the household enjoyed the particular smugness of having nowhere to be, and went to do the morning round — still covering for the two colleagues whose meeting in China had stretched comfortably across the long weekend.

I have no complaints. The rounds were smooth, almost suspiciously so, the kind of morning where everything is where it should be and nobody springs any surprises. There is a quiet satisfaction in that, the professional equivalent of finding the milk hasn't turned. By the time I left, the day still had most of itself ahead, which is the chief reward of an early start one didn't ask for.

Lunch was the day's small adventure. We went to Banglo 289, tucked within Bangunan Sultan Abdul Samad — a building I have admired from the outside for the better part of my life without ever expecting to eat inside it. I arrived with the modest expectations one brings to any restaurant trading partly on its address, and was promptly proven wrong. The ambience was genuinely lovely, the sort of room that makes you sit a little straighter, and the food more than held its end of the bargain. Better than expected is faint praise on paper, but in practice it is one of life's more pleasant verdicts.

The afternoon was given over to a nap, which I will defend to anyone. There is no finer use of a holiday than the deliberate, unhurried sleep that comes after a good lunch, the kind where you wake unsure of the hour and entirely at peace about it. I surfaced slowly, the light gone amber, the day having quietly carried on without me.

Dinner was Irfan's call, and Irfan wanted Thai, which meant Busaba at Bangsar Shopping Centre. There is something reassuring about a young person who knows precisely what he wants and is not shy about saying so, particularly when the answer involves tom yum. The food did its job, the conversation drifted pleasantly, and we let the evening take its own pace, in no hurry to be anywhere.

Then home, and rest. Two holidays bookended by morning rounds is a peculiar rhythm, but there is a logic to it — the work anchoring the days that might otherwise float off entirely. Tomorrow the calendar reasserts itself and the ordinary week resumes. I find I don't mind. There is comfort in the return of structure, in knowing that the rounds will go on, the colleagues will fly back, and the small machinery of normal life will pick up where it left off.

For now, though, an early night. A good meal, a better nap, and Thai food chosen by someone with strong opinions. As holidays go, it asked for very little and gave back rather a lot.

The City, Twice

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoThe long weekend announced itself properly — rounds started early and wrapped up by noon, which is exactly the kind of Saturday morning that earns its afternoon. With the rest of the day wide open, I took Anita into the city, starting at Central Market.

There was a bittersweet errand first. Nala, the outlet in Kasturi Walk, is doing a closing down sale. It's always a shame when a place you've browsed happily over the years decides to fold. You don't realise how much a shop has become part of your mental map of a place until someone announces it's leaving. We paid our respects in the way one does — by buying things at a discount and feeling vaguely guilty about it.

Lunch was at Pak Jen, quick and unfussy, the kind of meal that exists to refuel rather than linger. It did its job admirably.

Afterwards, we wandered across to Bangunan Sultan Abdul Samad, mostly on a whim, and found ourselves genuinely surprised. The new wing was open — something I hadn't expected — and it's been fitted out with a cluster of restaurants and cafés that give the whole building a completely different energy. Heritage architecture with modern tenants. It works rather well.

We tried Tannin Hill, a tea house that offered a tasting menu. The concept was lovely, the execution generous — perhaps too generous, if we're being honest. By the fourth or fifth steep, we'd crossed the line from pleasantly caffeinated to faintly overwhelmed. There is, it turns out, such a thing as too much tea. A sentence I never expected to write.

We walked it off, exploring the rest of the new spaces, and somewhere during the stroll the idea formed: we'd come back this evening with Irfan. The place deserved a second visit, preferably with a different stomach.

So that's exactly what we did. Dinner at Jibby Chow, because Irfan had his heart set on dim sum, and Jibby Chow delivers on that front without argument. Idlan was too tired to tag along, which is the quiet prerogative of anyone who's had enough socialising for one day. No judgement. Some evenings you simply don't have a second outing in you.

After dinner, we returned to Bangunan Sultan Abdul Samad as planned. The building looks different at night — the lighting picks out details you miss in daylight, and the whole precinct takes on a more relaxed, almost European quality. We stopped at Niko Neko for matcha, which I'll describe diplomatically as an acquired taste. Irfan seemed more convinced than I was. I suspect matcha is one of those things you either feel strongly about or simply endure politely while waiting for someone else to finish theirs.

The walk back was the best part, really. The city at night, properly strolled rather than rushed through. KL rewards you when you slow down, and tonight it was in a generous mood.

Street Arts

As part of the UNESCO Day, a street art competition was held. And we were talking about using chalks to draw on road kind of art! Proper street art. But a shame that it wouldn't be permanent.

I was with one of the judges for the competition as I know him from KLickr, and the both of us agreed that the efforts from the schoolchildren was definitely more appreciated than the works of the professional artistes who were also taking part.

Not sure who the winner was, but I could certainly appreciate some of the work there. Some of them were smudged from the half-marathon event held there earlier that morning - again symptomatic of bad planning ....

UNESCO Day Malaysia 2015

As usual, I love to be nosy. I like to know what was going on in KL all the time and if it was a form of festival, with food involved, I always tried to be there. That was how I discovered Urbanscape - in the old more chilled-out form - back in 2009. Since it had gone commercial, I felt that there is a devoid in independent, urban event organised by the locals, for the locals.

After visiting the UNESCO Day, I was still searching.

There was a couple of events going on around KL last weekend. The first - probably the bigger was the Pesta Belia Putrajaya - Putrajaya Youth Festival - held of course in Putrajaya, organised by the Ministry of Youth. Not exactly well advertised, and I only learned about it through Twitter. The sad thing was finding more information about it proved a pain, and I felt that it wouldn't be worth making the trip across to Putrajaya when I couldn't really plan the day.

That was shelved.

Next up, it was Hari UNESCO Malaysia - Malaysia UNESCO Day. It was under the umbrage of Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and as expected the two ministries don't really plan things together, hence the clash!

In terms of venue, the UNESCO Day won hands down since transport to and from Dataran Merdeka was easy and admission was free and all. A quick walk from Central Market and you were already there. Easy decision in the end.

Originally I wanted to take Anita along but she felt a bit under the weather, although I suspect that she was worried that it would be raining. I set off alone after parking my car at KL Sentral, taking the LRT to Masjid Jamek. And the weather was gorgeous.

The venue was split into a couple of areas. The main exhibition area - a rather formal affair complete with stage and VIP seating area. The other area was mainly to chill out - foodtrucks and tables. In between, there was the Dataran Undrgrnd - shaded area which used to be a carpark, fully airconditioned if you need shelter from the sun and rain, and also where the toilets and surau were located. Really convenient.

I spent the afternoon mainly at the foodtruck area as well as the far side of Jalan Raja where the street arts were located. As a place to chill out in the middle of the city on a sunny Sunday afternoon, the UNESCO Day was a winner. The sun, and some really nice coconut jelly was just heavenly ..... Would definitely come again for the sun and food. But for the exhibits? It was way too formal, something you'd expect to see in an expo hall. And I have attended far too many conferences before ....

More photos from this event at my Flickr page here.