Mr Traveler ( An extra post from the Scotland trip)

This is a post which is solely consist of my imagination and the monologues i have in my mind when i saw this perfect stranger in this foreign land. I shall call him Mr Traveler.

I think i do have guitarist-fetish, i realized that my eyes always drawn to some lads wearing torn jean carrying a guitar walking on the street. The same magic worked on me that night the first instant i saw Mr traveler.

Mr traveler was sitting beside my double decker bedsit when i first check-in into the dorm. It was quite weird that a young man like him seems to have no place to go on Thursday night in a city like edinburgh. Lying on his bed, he was playing guitar leasurely, ignoring the blasting music and tempting neon light from the bars just beside the hostel. He was fully absorbed in his own world, not even realizing there were some chinese girls move into the bedsits beside his, or he just dont give a damn to the presence of any human being in the room.

"which country he came from? Why was he alone? what song was he playing?"

curiosity continue to flood me.

So here i am, sitting on my bed, wearing my comfortable pyjamas, stealing a look at Mr traveler who busied dwelling in his own dimension. The dim light shone on his back, even his shadows smell of loneliness.

I guess this the life of a traveler. No destination, no friends, no fancy clothes.... just a loner and a guitar. Arriving alone in some smelly dirty city on the far side of the planet where no one speaks anything even resembling your language, with no hotel reservation, no idea when will the next shower be.... It may sounded pitiful from that kind of perspective. However, maybe this is just the life they desired for, no string attached, no commitment, no relationship, no 8am to 5pm job a day... just the sky above and the solid ground underneath as their home.

Somehow he reminds me of Ray Lamontagne, singing 'trouble' under the street light.

Mr Traveler was already slept soundly the next day when me and the girls came back from late night Jazz bar. Again, me and Mr Traveler sleep in the same room with no hello, by the way my name is susan. I guess now you know the ending of the story of the traveler. (Anyway, if you still dont know what this story is all about, let me remind you this is a boring story of strangers in a foreign city which their life will never intersect with each other). Alas, I didnt worked up the nerve to approach him. I guess it takes two of a kind to get things sparkle. Deep inside, I knew I wouldn't be the one to approach a complete stranger. i am no traveler material, i am just a typical girl loves nice holiday and vacation but never loneliness.

When Susan met Susan

I met another me last summer. Her name is the same as mine, Susan. And she told me that it means the lily of the valley. We are not exactly the replica of each other, well, she is much older than me, 20-30 years older perhaps. But our characters are similar in a way that it was pretty obvious to friends around us.

To start of with, we both played guitar; we both have strong character; we both like to plan things ahead and reflect afterwards; we both think that sometimes face to face confrontation is not the best way to solve a conflict; we both like the song “in Christ alone”; and the list goes on. She always tells me that she saw the younger she in me, a bit paranoid, a bit workaholic and a bit perfectionism. What she doesn’t know is that how I wish some times I can be more relaxed and more at ease like her. “It came with experience.” That’s what she said. Indeed, I found that her greatest treasure (apart from Jesus), perhaps is her exciting, ups and down life experience and life lessons.

I didn’t know her that long to be truth, its even less than 2 years. It all started when she realized that I need something to boost my commitment in the church. Back then, I was always in a rush. Rush in and out of the church, leaving no trace, and that’s the way I prefer it to be. No commitment, no deep relationship nor feelings. “I will leave UK in 1 and a half year time, its better to leave everything on surface”. Well at least that’s what I have thought, but not her. That’s why she asked me to play guitar along with her, so that I can blend in the church community more, so that I will have a sense of responsibility for this church as well. I guess her plan did works. I grew more and more attached to this church, and at the same time I learned some life lessons that I would never have learned if I continue to stay distantly in my own world, my comfort zone.

The day before I left UK, we have twice heart to heart talk in some nice cozy bistro. Time spells no difference to us because for me, that few hours felt like minutes. And until today, some of the words she said still linger in mind. I am not sure will I have any chance to see her again in future, but I am always thankful that our life intersects at certain point and moreover, i get to know another me who stays at the other side of the earth.

God bless you, Susan Kam.

Hotter and hot

In UK, everyone is making a big fuss over the global warming issue.

"this year summer is the hottest in the history!"
"what are we expecting? warmer summer and colder winter?"
"thats the warning sign from our mother earth. Cant you feel it?? are you some kind of cold blood reptiles?"

In Malaysia, no one gives a damn about the hot and nothing but the hot 32+ degrees days. No one, except me. Someone please beat me If i am the only one to realize the fact that not only those western countries (where all the environmentalists habitating), Malaysia's weather also experience the bizzare effect of Global warming. And tell you what, i am not even an environmentalist.

Is it the fact that because its already hot, hence people don't really feel the hotter than the hot? walking on the street makes me felt like i am gonna faint because of the heat stroke or hot flush or whatever that you called it. even my cartilage felt likes melting. I stopped using deodorant for a year an a half in UK but the moment i stepped down from the airplane, i started to sweat like a pig and moreover, stink.

Ok, i admit i dont really wanna debate on global warming issue. I just miss the UK's weather dearly. Wrapping myself in the duvet like a big fat swiss roll after my M&S morning job felt like heaven, not sweating for a year and a half is just pure enjoyement (trust me).

Some people says that UK's weather is unpredictable, you can get 4 seasons in just one day. i heard a similar saying but more hilarious one from my cab driver last time.
"UK weather is like women's mood"
hmmmmm......*quite agree*
"it changes every seconds"
-_-

yeah whatever, i just miss UK's unpredictable weather.

Day two: the city of wonders

Paris is the city of wonders. The historical buildings and tourist spots were simply magnificent and breathtaking. Once you have tasted the city and held a conversation with a native without using English, you will start to feel a bit cosmopolitan yourself. Honestly, I only knew how to speak two French words, “bonjour” which means hello and “mecy” which means thank you. Its quite amusing that the moment I use those local words to interact with Paris gentlemen, they suddenly turn into some cheeky and friendly bunch of people.

I still remember that on the second day, when I was on my way towards the metro station to go to city centre to start my wonderful discovery, there was this middle aged gentleman greeted me in French while sun bathing in the early morning sun. Honestly, I didn’t understand a single word he said, but I simply reply “bonjour”. He was so pleased with my response and continued to bombard me with more and more tongue twisting French words. I can only vaguely understand that he is one of the street artists who draws and sells portraits. It amazed me that in this side of city, far away from the hustle and bustle of the city, people still live as an artist to survive, still retain the colorful culture and the original artisticity scent of the early artists such as Vincent Van goh.

Notre-Dame looms large over the Isle de la Cité, and is the most enduring symbol of Paris. It wasn’t that big to be truth. If you are expecting something which is as magnificent and as mysterious as what in the Disney cartoon “the hunchback of Notre dame”, you will be in big disappointment. I always thought that the cathedral will at least have the height of the sky scrappers and a big mysterious bell tower. But when I looked from the outside, I simply can’t picture the story of Quasimodo, the fictional hunchback and the Notre dame together. Hence I decided not to pay extra to climb up the 387 step to the top of the towers to see the close-up views of the famous gargoyles, and the great bell that was rung by Quasimodo. Honestly, in my opinion, its not exaggerate to say that Liverpool Anglican cathedral is even bigger that that.

See what I mean?

But what really attracted my attention was the fact that the cathedral can be considered one of the of the world’s Gothic masterpieces, simply look at the sculptures on the wall, which consists of thousands of sculptures like gargoyles and the ‘be-headed’ angel. i felt shivers run through my spine with only a look at those statue, its like they are whispering some mysterious stories that I never knew.

After that, I continue my journey to the Pantheon, Apostle chapel which stores the statue of Jesus’s 12 disciples, Musee de Lourve which display many famous Egyptian, Greek, Roman and Asian antiquities, painting, drawings and sculpture. Please don’t even attempt to see it all in one day, cuz its impossible. The most famous one is none other than Da Vinci’s enigmatic Mona Lisa. One interesting fact about the paint is that it is protected by bullet proof glass within its own room and taking photos is strictly prohibited. It surprises me that the museum actually was designed by a Chinese architecture who borrowed the concept of the pyramid as it was clearly seen from the picture that the top of museum is in glass made pyramid shape, while the museum itself was underneath the main entrance of the pyramid.

Like Edinburgh, Paris is divided to half by a big river, called river Seine. There is cruise service along the river during daytime and night, which cost around 10 euro per trip. It wasn’t a pleasant experience if you are expecting something romantic and sensual. First of all, it is impossible to look cool and posh at the same time when you try to resist the great momentum of the wind threatens to blow you off the boat. Hence I prefer a slow walk along the river bank while have a great view on some Paris gentlemen walking in nice suit and some tourist leisurely taking photos. Walking along the river and you can see all the big attraction of the Paris, for example De Concorde, Eiffel tower, Triumph de arc etc.

Eiffel tower is just a normal Telecom-like tower at the daytime, if you know what I mean. But at night, it turns into such a magnificent view. The light at the top of the tower shone straightly to the sky, it feels like a tunnel which connects to heaven. The whole tower dances in the glimmering lights in the dark. It surprises me that the tower itself wasn’t that popular in its olf time. According to the history, it was built as a temporary structure to commenmorate the centenary of the French Revolution and was considered an eyesore by many. There were petition to have it pulled down and was only saved for it had become an important for telegraphy.

The tower is consists of 3 levels, whereby each level has their own restaurant and some souvenier shop. The highest of its 3 levels offers a wonderful panoramic view over Paris. As the height of the tower increase, the boarding fees also increases. The long queue of people waiting to go up the tower has made me given up the idea of enjoying the night view of the Paris city up from the high. However, according to other tourist, they said that the night view from Sacre coer was even more beautiful than from Eiffel tower.

Well this lead to my final day in paris, the unforgettable memory of the night at Sacre Coer.

One little glimpse of Paris

The outsider on the inside, that’s my feeling when I first set my feet on the RER train which took me from Paris Charles de Gauls airport to Gare du Node train station. On this side of the earth, people speak in different tongue; wear trendy clothes and perfect makeup even in the oldest and modest train which I ever ride before. I looked at myself, a thick un stylish children size (yes, I always buy children size clothes in England) coat with a pair of faded jeans with a lot of holes on it. I looked more hippies than I ever thought before when I standing beside those high heels, perfume smell, metropolitan Paris ladies. I guess there is nothing more humbling than living in a foreign culture because you will become the alien on the inside.

To be truth, traveling is no difference than a case study of human beings, how they habitating a common place initially but slowly adapting to develop a culture of their own. Traveling really makes me aware the fact that the world is small but how diverse it is as well. I guess the secret of the idiots guide to traveling is to always keep an open mind and learn from each encounter with every person.

Knowing how to read a map is the most important survival skill of a traveler. It was nearly 11pm when I reached Gare du Node station, it took me a while to know which direction that I should took to go to the hotel which I booked online before hand. The roads looked all the same and it’s definitely not as simple as what is drawn on the map. After 10 minutes walk, I have finally reached the Le Regent Monmartre two star hotel. At the price of 39 euro pernight, it was quite a small and decent room to be truth. Not so spacious, but it has a wonderful view from the small balcony. I can even see the famous Sacre Coer glowing in the dark.

Not wasting any precious time, I quickly unpack my stuff and heading to Moulin Rouge which was only 10-15 mins walk away from the hotel. Moulin Rouge is the most famous Cabaret in the world since 1889, thanks to its French Can can Dance. I am deadly excited about the place partly because I had watched the movie about the tragic and glamorous life of the can can dancer starring by none other than Nicole kidman and Ewan MacGregor for 5 times. I’m aware that the concept is still the same at Moulin rouge compared to 100 years ago as I looked at the massively big size posters pasted outside the theatre. The feathers, rhinestones and sequines, fabulous settings, original music and of course beautiful girls; but disappointingly, the price was exceptionally expensive as well. The French Cancan show plus a dinner cost around 140 pounds.

I took some pictures and walked leisurely around the area, that whole street was full of adult shops and amusement theatres, I think this is the red light area for Paris. Honestly, it was quite a cultural shock to me, feels like I’m in the Old Testament’s city of Sodomah or Ghemorah. I guess for them sex is just part of the culture.

That night, while I’m lying on the bed, thinking that I am actually in THE Paris. The whole realization just made my whole chest throbbing with excitement, even my eyelids refused to close up, hoping that the night will not end too soon. Around 2 am, my body had finally surrendered, i sighed with satisfaction before wandered into the dream land knowing that there will be another good day waiting for me tomorrow.