tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91183098721760673002024-03-17T18:10:08.952-07:00 Spin A Yarn A conduit for my thoughts and imagination. Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-33758536360502686942014-11-22T18:04:00.001-08:002014-11-22T18:33:07.423-08:00The Joy and the Scourge of Travel<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">So you want to travel? </span><span style="font-size: large;">The world is your oyster, so go forth and explore as they say, but is it as simple as that?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The appealing romantic notion of life on the road, without a care, pervades many of our daydreams. Travel is the circuit breaker to life's daily monotonous grind, good or bad experiences, it matters little as long as it's not at home. It's the adventure of it all, the adrenaline rush of uncertainty, anything but boring. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've spent the latter part of my life thinking this way. Due to circumstances, I have ended up living in South East Asia for the best part of 10 years and have been lucky enough to have the opportunity to expand my cultural and spacial awareness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We should all travel if we can. Travel brings ideas and refreshes the mind to new and exciting possibilities and it makes us re-examine the way we look at the world. Home is never the same again; the last missing piece completes the puzzle and illustrates with brilliant clarity; we are all but a product of our own upbringing and environment.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To travel is what every human should do some stage during their life, but of course it's impossible for most; not everyone has the means or the desire.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Any downside to this quest to explore? Yes, I fear so.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Is it better to seek security or live life to its fullest? A question that truly polarises. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With all that travel brings into our life also comes some unwanted baggage - discontentment. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The more you travel the more you want. I am sure you know or have seen the addicted 20 somethings that spend all their time on the road living out of a backpack, darting from one exotic location to another. The gypsy within, makes us quietly envious of these drifters even if we think it's a touch irresponsible for them not to settle down sooner. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Of course the elephant in the room is truly money or the lack of it. I have spent tens of thousands on travel over the years but not for one moment regretted the expense. Others will disagree. I, for one, won't be dying with a bucket full of money in the bank. Many could not bear that thought. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Travel creates the need to travel more. There is always one more road to find and one more beach to wander on. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So what should we do, stay at home and end our wanderlust? Personally, I think the benefits far outweigh the downside as long as all of us realize there is more to life than wanting to be elsewhere. </span></div>
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-37641242727767253862014-11-06T16:31:00.000-08:002015-03-14T03:30:27.905-07:00When The Wheels Start Falling Off<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It creeps up on you slowly. Barely noticeable at first until the day you attempt to jump up out of bed and end up rolling out. Getting out of a chair is like raising the Titanic, every joint and spar of the infrastructure creaks, reluctant to leave the comfort of Davy Jone's locker.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It's not until I look into the mirror that the true realization (shock) of aging strikes me. Not that I do that very often mind you, maybe once a day as I clean my teeth and brush my receded greying hair. The hair started to change colour way back in my 20s, so I've had plenty of time to get used to it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Must be worst for some; those who spend time putting makeup on. Looking at every crevice and crack in great detail and trying to reconcile the mental image with the physical one. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Apart from a brief look at myself after my early morning shower, I only have to content with the occasional glance from a shop window or the obscure reflection from a computer screen. Not too difficult to deal with. We all get old, but it seems to have happened oh so much quicker than I thought it would. Never mind, the change in appearance I can can cope with more or less, ( I was never an oil painting) it's the physical decline that's much harder to handle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As the years bobble along so does the increasing size of the waist line. I've kept reasonable active most of my life, mainly through walking after the active sports stopped in my early 20s, but the weight has increased to the extent you become conscious of the bulging stomach especially when seated and the constant discomfort after eating. It's comes across as indigestion at first, but becomes more insidious in the mind as time passes by. Hiatus Hernia or stomach cancer? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">That’s the problem when you have a little medical knowledge and a vivid imagination, mole hills become mountains. Going to the toilet too often - prostate problems or diabetes. Stiff back, no flexibility - Rheumatoid arthritis or was it all that running I did years ago, wearing out out the joints, a touch of Osteo? Oh well, the days of jumping over a gate with a single bound have well and truly gone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Is it my imagination I’m becoming a little clumsy or is it the onset of something more sinister, Parkinson or a smidgin of Motor Neuron disease?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Arrh how the mind plays tricks. But it doesn't play tricks with my eyes sight. Blind as the proverbial bat these days. Anything thing within a metre is a blurry train crash. My constant companion is a pair of never cleaned cheap reading glasses that I invariably look over most of the time when not reading. Way too lazy to take them off. Makes me look distinguish or so I tell myself. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">"Is that a skin cancer on my left temple?" As they arrive on the bridge of my nose each morning.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It's not all bad this getting old caper. I long since not worried what others thing about me. I'm resigned to the fact I'm a grumpy old so and so. You know the one at the christmas office party about to retire, always talking about the good old days (as if they ever existed) and complaining about the youth of todays total lack of respect. ( to him of course.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My heart beat app tells me I'll live until I'm 93, have no idea how it knows. How come I feel 93 now?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Enough whinging. Time to go for my daily 4k walk in the hot tropical sun. Not dead yet, just practicing.</span></div>
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-86971312475744919072014-10-11T22:46:00.000-07:002014-10-13T01:07:01.025-07:00Murder I Wrote<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The spider slowly descended down its half constructed web looking for a secure place to anchor its next thread. The slim sliver of light that made its way into the darkened room, illuminated the scene; a builder in the spotlight still deciding where to attach his next spar. Such was life in my small dusty half forgotten second hand shop in downtown New Norfolk. Few customers with even fewer sales kept me bored and disillusioned. Life's monotony was in full display in this ageing shop of mine. Even the bric-a-brac looked tired and boring as my eyes slowly scanned the store looking for who knows what; a habit from years of diminishing mental activity. The odd piece that was sold was soon replaced with something that looked the same, did the same. I gave up a secure job that placed a great deal more on my mental agility to do this. The idea seemed right at the time. But like most things in my life, it hadn't turned out the way I expected. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My wife Betty was banging around in the back doing what she did most days - bang around. We had stopped most communication a long time ago and only talked when it became absolutely necessary. We shared an ordinary house in an ordinary street in an ordinary suburb with almost nothing else in common. Life's like that for some, never raising its head much above the water line, a constant struggle not to drown until.. you know, you drown.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The apartment block across the road was one of those places you aspire to if you are poor but can't wait to get out if you're not. Most were investment properties, so a constant stream of unlikely types moved in and out like an army of ants searching for their queen. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A van pulled up, a large nondescript white one. Two men and I think, a woman jumped out and scurried up the low entrance staircase leading to the ground floor units. I say think because it was bitterly cold and all three wore heavy full length coats with their collars turned up in a vain attempt to keep warm. One of the figures, much more diminutive than the other two, was bent over slightly with a hand on the stomach like you see when someone wants to vomit but can't. I couldn't see their faces; they were in such a hurry. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The action only lasted a few seconds and my thoughts and sight returned to that spider and its constructive life. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A day or two later my wife in an unexpected burst of civility drew my attention to a newspaper article about a spate of missing teenager girls. Four had gone missing the previous six months. Not that it's uncommon with teenagers to run away, but these were well adjusted reliable kids that had never been in trouble and from all accounts came from stable homes. </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">The police were becoming concerned and asked the public for help.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Photos of the 4 filled most of the page. Innocent faces frozen to a time and place, not knowing what the future had in store for them. My wife muttered something about how terrible it was and hoped they would be found soon safe and well. I wasn't listening.</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My thoughts went back to the day I saw that van. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The bell on the door broke the spell. In front of me stood a burly man, some 6 foot tall, thick necked with strong masculine hands, sporting a ridiculous handlebar moustache and a sort of pointed goatee which made absolutely no sense together. His clothes were baggy and dishevelled, though clean. </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">He gave the impression of an oddity rejected from the Moscow circus. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">" Can I h-help?" I stuttered. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He stood there for a moment, eyes surveying, in deep thought. When he finally spoke, it came as a surprise. An unexpected soft cultured voice enunciated. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Good afternoon, my good Sir,” I was wondering whether you could help me. My colleague and I are conducting a little business in the apartment block across the road and we require a few odds and sods, props that sort of thing to liven the place up. Is it all right to browse?"</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Certainly!" I said.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He walked around the shop muttering to himself, inaudible to me. Returning to the counter often, he collected an eclectic assortment of items. Curtain stays, a set of candle sticks with candles, a roll of packing tape, an old make up artist case, a paint brush, a large brown leather strap, the type you secure a travelling trunk with and an ornate 19 th century Persian ceremonial dagger. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">All in all it came to well over 200 dollars, the best sale I'd had in weeks. </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">I was pleased. When finished he paid promptly, gathered his purchases and scurried across the road.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Just as he was about to disappear into the apartment block, a white van pulled up in front. He walked over to it, and after a short conversation with the driver, jumped in and they sped away towards the city. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Argh, so he was one of the characters I saw that day," I thought to myself.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A week or two later, I happened to catch sight of the same white van pulling up out front. Two men got out, one I recognised as the man that came to my shop earlier and to my utter astonishment, a young girl with long flowing chestnut hair. My heart missed a beat as my thoughts focused on the missing girls. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Get a hold of yourself," I said aloud. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">They walked up the flight of stairs to enter the building. She seemed perfectly at ease, laughing and chatting with both men. The other man was not as large as his friend, but like his friend, he wouldn't have seemed out of place in a foreign circus. Bald as a bagger, wearing a strange peaked Robin hood like felt hat that made him look like a court jester from a medieval castle. He did a kind of a skip and a hop gig as he circled his companions, exuding an abundance of excess energy. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I wasn't sure what to make of it . The puzzle in my mind was coming together. Why would such a young girl be hanging around with ageing men? She being so pretty and they so strange. He bought that odd collection of items from me. It just didn't add up. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I stared at the shop wall. My spider was sitting in the middle of the web waiting for its next victim. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5ioFKX33MdchMYnZAbAWfRu4VUmRS9TtqqU_JlNFVXtcUxJgRb7vJvXKQxgZzUjMADPZiwmu9uGpcqIKsELasJfke0FVcMXqOKjlux6RYcrikKf2y7x6OBoxcSdkgP1bhIDg_6yBwHdfW/s1600/images-4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5ioFKX33MdchMYnZAbAWfRu4VUmRS9TtqqU_JlNFVXtcUxJgRb7vJvXKQxgZzUjMADPZiwmu9uGpcqIKsELasJfke0FVcMXqOKjlux6RYcrikKf2y7x6OBoxcSdkgP1bhIDg_6yBwHdfW/s1600/images-4.jpeg" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I was fighting with myself, my head was telling me I was reading too much into this. My gut told me there was a room full of young girls - dead or alive! They were up to no good, I was sure or was I ? </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A cold sweat engulfed my forehead. I can't just do nothing, but that was just what I did. I slumped into my office chair.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Deep down I'm a coward, scared of my own shadow; bad things happened to others, not me. I'm a runner, not a fighter.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Betty walked into the room and stared at me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Whats wrong with you? You look more miserable than usual."</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">" I'm ok, just tired," I snapped back. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Suit yourself. I'm going home to eat. By the way, a white van is blocking our drive. Go tell the owner to move it. Stupid place to park, trying to shove a rolled up carpet square into the back that obviously doesn't fit."</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP_1MsJVna58Hbj8uo-ZkotP7EXV_6hTLgSN2xX9au4b6wFMHAxP3RcLBcFxGn_k4J99ojMtKRXYER4nW27GSXMuzSz4LCXF0-y27U9PbpNQlKjdsIpbOcgWEzZnjbBOOcwC0KLIEUjXUV/s1600/Unknown-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP_1MsJVna58Hbj8uo-ZkotP7EXV_6hTLgSN2xX9au4b6wFMHAxP3RcLBcFxGn_k4J99ojMtKRXYER4nW27GSXMuzSz4LCXF0-y27U9PbpNQlKjdsIpbOcgWEzZnjbBOOcwC0KLIEUjXUV/s1600/Unknown-1.jpeg" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The blood drained from my face, rolled carpet, body inside being disposed of. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I was sure now. How am I going to deal with it... </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My spider was examining a fresh victim tangled up in fine gossamer threads as I made my way to the front door. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Gone! Nowhere to be seen. There was an immediate sense of relief not having to confront them, my hands wouldn't stop shaking. Ohh what a yellow bellied snivelling coward I am. Do something.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Call the police, that's what I'll do.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">No wait, it's none of my business. Not my fault they're over there. They could have been anywhere in this city. Why did they have to be across the road?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Stop it right now, you have a public duty to tell the police. Think of the girls, the poor girls. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">No hang on a minute I don't have any proof, the police will think I'm a trouble maker, trying to get my name in the paper.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Headlines - Read all about it. SECOND HAND SHOPKEEPER FOILS SERIAL KILLER MURDER GANG, SAVES MANY LIVES. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ridiculous, I'm deluding myself or maybe this will make me a hero. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“TOO MUCH!" I cried out loud. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My head was pounding I was frozen into inaction. Wait until tomorrow now. Another night won't make a difference. It's too late for that poor girl in the carpet anyway. I soothed my nerves with these thoughts. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Always been a procrastinator ever since I was knee high to a grasshopper. My dad used to say that boy would take a life time to make up his mind, has a permanent indentation on his backside by spending too much time sitting on the fence. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I showed him though. I made a snap decision to ask Betty to marry me and, well… we all know how that turned out. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I had a dreadful night’s sleep and arrived at the shop early. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My spider was now devouring its victim bit by bit. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">The van arrived about nine and to my unbelieving eyes, two young women jumped out with those brutal beasties of depravity, laughing and giggling without a care in the world. The smaller of the two men wearing another farcical hat escorted the two women inside while the other parked his van around the back.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Two more entering the spiders den. I was dizzy with indecision. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This is it. I need to do something now.</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Plucking up all the courage I could muster ( almost none), I dashed outside. Seeing a policeman on his passing bike, I frantically flapped my arms like a duck who had been shot in its final death throes to gain his attention. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Officer, officer I think...I know… I don’t really know but I think there has been a great injustice committed in that apartment building.” </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He looked at me with eyes that said, “Here we go, another nutter.” </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">And was about to say something to me when his radio crackled to life. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“All active units need to proceed to 32 Baker Street New Town immediately. Re missing teenagers, suspected multiple homicides in house, suspects detained.”</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Without further ado, he gunned his bike and disappeared down the road.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I stood there with my jaw dropped and in shock.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Before I could gather my wits, the burly man with the ridiculous hand bar moustache and goatee that looked out of place walked from behind the building.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Hello, my good sir,” hand outstretched “ Aren’t you the shop owner from across the road?” </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I feebly nodded </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Oh good oh. Those props I bought off you the other day worked like a treat. Pity we have to rehearse here and not in the theatre but those bloody renovations aren’t finished yet,” he cackled. “Beggars can’t be choosers as they say and we actors are surely beggars, ha ha.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “Actors?” I sputtered out. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Yes old boy, the girls were having a ripe old giggle about having to rehearse in a flat. Not enough room you see. Had to remove that old Indian carpet because they all kept sneezing due to the dust or cat’s hair or something. Ha, Ha, what a hoot. Every time we killed our victim he’d start sneezing. Ended up in hospital, poor chat with asthma."</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Murder?” I chocked.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Hang on my old boy, Just had a thought. We need a new murder victim. You would fit the bill perfectly. Can you play dead? ha ha”</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">With that, I let out an almighty scream of "Noooooooooo" and ran across the road slamming the shop door behind me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Old Handle bars looked perplexed, “What a strange fellow. Takes all types I suppose.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">On the dirty dusty floor of an old non</span>descript<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> run down secondhand shop, lies a dead spider.</span></span></div>
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-48956044778884627692014-09-27T18:47:00.000-07:002014-09-29T22:38:22.194-07:00 The Not So Super Supermarket <div style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I am sure most of you have experienced the pleasures of shopping in a modern air-conditioned supermarket with everything you could possibly want on the well-stocked shelves. This is not a story about that. This, my dear friends, is about reality in the deep dark Palm oil jungle of Borneo. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My local supermarket, I've been told, came into existence a mere 20 years ago, but to the uninitiated, it appears to be at least three score years plus ten. (older than me)</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The owners haven't felt the need to modernise with a coat of paint or a dab of plaster since construction. The interior has the ambiance of a post nuclear apocalypse, cans and packets of food are strewn across the aisles as the highly motivated staff ( cough, cough) unpack to stack the shelves during all of the opening hours. This would normally not be a problem, but the two-and-a-half-foot wide aisles don't cope well. Large sections of the supermarket are unreachable on any one visit, so this clever marketing ploy, coupled with the unavailability of most of the common produce on a given day ( tomatoes maybe on a Monday or if not Wednesday or if you're really unlucky the next week. Lettuce to go with your salad, on the other hand, never arrives the same day) makes you return again and again to enhance the shopping experience.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Yes, it's a total lottery; as a behavioural psychologist would put it - intermittent positive reinforcement. Nothing like it to make you salivate. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Talking about fruit and veg, the produce, all of it is tightly wrapped multiple times in plastic film. You can look but not touch. This gives the appearance of conformity. The only way to recognise a bulk of it is by colour. Impossible to tell if it's fresh or not - plastic all smells the same. Needless to say, we do have some little surprises when we open up at home. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The plastic thing reminds me of the time I found cheese with mould growing inside an unopened plastic wrapper. Expiry date was ok. That's real skill you must admit.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">May have something to do with the leaking freezers. The tiles or what's left of them next to the deep freeze bubble and burp with what I think is rising damp. The owners do their very best to ignore it by throwing broken down cardboard boxes over it. They, in turn get saturated and disintegrate. Word of warning here; never wear flip flops or sandals. Body weight will force the brown fluid over your toes. My wife says it smells like rats urine. I told her I didn't think so. Never seen more than a couple of rats at anyone time, the stench being so strong it would rot your socks off. You would need an army of rats to create that smell, but I must admit it's hard to identify. What does concrete cancer mixed with effluent smell like? </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Buying sliced bread is a bit of an art form. I used to, back home, feel the bread to see if it was soft and springy to the touch. Being warm was a bonus because it meant it was very fresh; doesn't work here though. It's always hot because it sits in the window with the tropical sun as company. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">You know what I think?</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I have a sneaky suspicion the uncooked dough is placed into the plastic bags to bake by solar energy. How's that for efficiency!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Check out is well... slow to.... well you know. The cash registers are only a few feet from the first row of shelves and you thought traffic in Kuala </span>Lumpur<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> was bad! No </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">useless modern conveniences like scanners here.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> The shoppers who don't like carrying too much tend to drop off their growing list of items onto the cashiers counter. So when you arrive to pay for your own groceries the counter is already full with others. Very messy indeed. Oh well I only need to do this 5 days in 7.........</span></div>
Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-32943471122389390182014-09-24T02:44:00.000-07:002014-09-29T22:39:28.742-07:00Kudat, Two Hotels And The Tip Of Borneo<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">School holidays, how sweet they are. Looking forward to escaping the clutches of Sandakan City for a few days, we decided to fly to Kudat. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kudat is the last major town before you reach the tip of Borneo - Tanjung Simpang Mengayau. It’s isolated and relatively small with a population of about 85,000.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">It is a 7-hour drive from Sandakan, a little too much for the old car, so we decided to fly. My wife had never been to this part of Sabah and I had only briefly transited on a flight to Kota Kinabalu.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">To be honest, I was looking for any excuse to fly in the Twin Otter again. It's real flying and reminds me of my own relatively short experience as a private pilot over 30 years ago in Adelaide. The noise of the engines, the smell of aviation fuel and the rather uncomfortable seats add to that exquisite feeling of the gentle floating sensation you don't get in a heavier jet aircraft. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Sit anywhere you like." I was told when we boarded - it's that sort of flight. You see the every movement of the pilots, observe most of the flight instruments and the monotony of the job ( for them) after the takeoff and before the landing. Nothing like watching the knees of these young men bouncing up and down like nervous school boys who are longing for the home time bell to ring. It instils a sense of confidence in the passengers, I can assure you!</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The flight lasts a mere 50 minutes over low lying mangrove and palm oil plantations - not a lot of jungle left in this part of Sabah. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The airport is really only an airstrip with a single </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">green</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">storey one-roomed building for arrivals and departures. The fire truck/van with its small water trailer has its attendant in an easy chair next to it, whiling away the time, waiting for the airports only daily flight. What a life.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Originally we intended to use these few days to just veg out and relax, but I wanted to hire a vehicle for a day for a little exploring. The hotel we intended to stay in, the Ria, seemed very casual about obtaining any information other than my wife's name for the booking. They just said to call the morning of the departure to confirm. It's interesting how you get so used to pre booking online and instant confirmation. This was very refreshing. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As it turned out, close friends of ours were spending the weekend in Kota Kinabalu and decided to come up the day of our arrival to take us to the tip of Borneo. They wanted to stay in the Kudat Golf and Marina Resort, consequently we agreed to stay there for our first night. After picking us up at the airport, we drove there to check in only to find the rooms were not ready. We decided to have a bite to eat at the hawker stalls near the town centre. The ambience and the odour weren't the best, but the food was superb - a comprehensive collection of local seafood with rice and Chinese tea.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Arriving back to the hotel we were informed that the rooms were ready; gathering our bags we trundled down the corridor when a strange thing occurred. From some 10 metres away, I noticed a man in his swimming gear leave a room that I thought was ours. Not being sure, I opened the door to find to my horror, the room was strewn with clothes on the bed and shoes in the entrance. How embarrassing! My friend's room was 2 doors down, so they entered using the electronic card provided. There just behind the door stood a man with an electronic card in hand. For a second or two, both men stared at each other speechless - a mini Mexican standoff. The occupant in the room felt indignant that his private space was being invaded and my friend astonished that the hotel should have stuffed up so badly.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">What I find interesting is the hotel staff feigned indifference. This only made me mad to the point that the rest of the stay in that hotel was tainted by it. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Another 30 minutes past before we managed to secure our this time empty rooms. I did knock on the door before entering to make sure!</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The hotel is only average, full of youngish families that entertained their children in the pool. The rooms are nothing special, dated and small. The shower or should I say a fountain with a peeing Cherub which surged to 4 separate trickles between periods of inactivity. (think of 4 young boys relieving themselves into a puddle of water ) Not in many showers can you watch an individual water droplet travel down your body without interference, turn the shower on and wait; a 2-minute shower that took 10. Marvellous! </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM05GeaXFFCB60B5Nz51sShHA4wp9sw4esjbpOxgCJTDMbEOWMkUiHw4qhpcqffFAk1fm46Ho8XoOwXxJZD67PtWIGjaDWlE155jsxzZmOU2tSzbE5G_F_q4kd7SgTaR6YLCSfqtBM8wje/s1600/DSC_2014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM05GeaXFFCB60B5Nz51sShHA4wp9sw4esjbpOxgCJTDMbEOWMkUiHw4qhpcqffFAk1fm46Ho8XoOwXxJZD67PtWIGjaDWlE155jsxzZmOU2tSzbE5G_F_q4kd7SgTaR6YLCSfqtBM8wje/s1600/DSC_2014.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Map of Borneo at the tip</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">After freshening up, kind of, we piled into the car for the journey to the tip of Borneo some 23 kilometres away though it seemed further. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kudat was for a few years in the 1880's the capital of North Borneo and an arrival point for many immigrating Hakka from China to escape persecution ( Taiping rebellion) or for economic reasons. Many cleared the area for coconut plantations before becoming farmers themselves.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My wife's paternal ancestors arrived in this way before finally settling in Sandakan a number of years later.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5rkuNDx49-Kthc-XHZ6-oVC2fA4V621lihH84r3k2DhRXi-NGC3t9758ng05wsHG3-AUbPWd_7R7AJBldZ4m1VVi8RpXKi_T_I6EJea9mUGH2Ea8s7Ed-JYcMKDA3JnBvBpKgOOL1waY/s1600/DSC_0230.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5rkuNDx49-Kthc-XHZ6-oVC2fA4V621lihH84r3k2DhRXi-NGC3t9758ng05wsHG3-AUbPWd_7R7AJBldZ4m1VVi8RpXKi_T_I6EJea9mUGH2Ea8s7Ed-JYcMKDA3JnBvBpKgOOL1waY/s1600/DSC_0230.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset at the Tip</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The roads were of a similar standard to else where in Sabah - barely adequate; the reason most people here drive larger four wheel drives, especially if they travel outside of the major towns.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kudat is still growing a significant amount of coconut, a pleasant change from palm oil. This area is still famous for its coconut virgin oil. The small kampongs swarmed with small unkempt children, mange ridden dogs and traditional local Rungus women weaving baskets on their wooden dilapidated thatched roofed verandas.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Just before the tip there is a long stretch of beach that is now the home to a few tacky tourist resorts of sorts. The beach would have been magnificent in years gone by, but like a lot of coastal regions in this part of the world is littered with mainly plastic objects. Nevertheless if you didn't look too closely, it was a pleasant enough scene.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJqZ7Hz1rr50-3EpDMqdhiOICz52LOGORpC5rLBNUiBaO2DlxLOuBgKX4r18Ypu3Cm7Z34SxRKinfdRAAoa6nQXkpPqDgnMrNSXG__UXbGlwt6zDz1mRqW_R8ZslKAGskvuqi4Rfq5sM3x/s1600/DSC_0193.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJqZ7Hz1rr50-3EpDMqdhiOICz52LOGORpC5rLBNUiBaO2DlxLOuBgKX4r18Ypu3Cm7Z34SxRKinfdRAAoa6nQXkpPqDgnMrNSXG__UXbGlwt6zDz1mRqW_R8ZslKAGskvuqi4Rfq5sM3x/s1600/DSC_0193.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Tip of Borneo</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">There is a car park 300 metres south of the tip with a few nondescript shelters to sit and admire the view. Just before the tip is a large concrete model of the world showing Borneo in all its glory. A plague with a brief description of the site and mentioning of Ferdinand</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">Magellan's circumnavigation fleet stopping there in 1421 for repair. (He himself was actually killed in the Philippines before this.)</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The land finally peters out into a narrow stretch of sandstone jutting into the ocean to divide the South China Sea with the Sulu. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A number of islands can be seen on the horizon, one with a lighthouse and interesting sandstone formations adds to the spectacle. The obligatory selfies were being taken by the 50 or so visitors there at the time which is always a distraction, but it's isolated enough to find some space away from the masses and go for a walk along the long sweeping beach. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn6x6Vzhfd2ezlZYfr89xVDzCd3MCeiaQPrLlhPAyJuRpUeWscCnSVBfbawJan2QXtb2f2R4skyuwaBZUoqhnBwtMyZyK8c5S_jbBU-dpvLy6KFdiLN2OWIMEDKr-rhtbYi5hUHtyabIz7/s1600/DSC_0505.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn6x6Vzhfd2ezlZYfr89xVDzCd3MCeiaQPrLlhPAyJuRpUeWscCnSVBfbawJan2QXtb2f2R4skyuwaBZUoqhnBwtMyZyK8c5S_jbBU-dpvLy6KFdiLN2OWIMEDKr-rhtbYi5hUHtyabIz7/s1600/DSC_0505.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Interesting sandstone formations</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Seafood again on the Kudat esplanade rounded off the day. Great meal, inexpensive, in a ramshackle timber restaurant that hangs over the water / plastic bottles. You can have too much of a good thing. By the time we left Kudat a few days later, I never wanted to see another prawn, fish or scallops during the rest of my life. ( feeling didn't last long of course) </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiAgzcqolQYFS7KzXN8jyHGh5PwfGN93Zp4piNdfOolBeSfVrp3r_vqt_8GES1JVyrZxQb_gOAA9dNTEZssMvqmdEF8Ob_0Av7qMrW61Ane5YR0FhfNgcd5qjCSTM4HQnpbler3V40CbJB/s1600/DSC_0264.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiAgzcqolQYFS7KzXN8jyHGh5PwfGN93Zp4piNdfOolBeSfVrp3r_vqt_8GES1JVyrZxQb_gOAA9dNTEZssMvqmdEF8Ob_0Av7qMrW61Ane5YR0FhfNgcd5qjCSTM4HQnpbler3V40CbJB/s1600/DSC_0264.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ria Hotel</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">The following day our friends left to drive back to Sandakan while we moved</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">to the Ria hotel.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">Compared with what we left, it was like chalk and cheese. A clean, smart and newly painted building in the centre of town. In fact it stood out because it was the best kept building in town. The staff were efficient</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">and polite to deal with. The room was twice the size of the one in the Kudat Golf and Marina resort and a lot cleaner and in better repair.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">The view out of the window was across some roof tops to the harbour, not perfect but pleasant enough.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We ended up spending 2 more memorable days being driven around to explore both sides of the peninsular. The beaches on the South China Sea side had the least pollution. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqYlOqyEizrgWY9zxeHoEUdLEUfA-hN92KqwXsjG2aN-uvRbPDM89ACtM4iW-ufJZZI_-S3EIpRpJDapjbl32_Vjve5h2jYRysRyuNEOwrEgclY78Kj5pVET0ZZ8K9gA-XwQcRP4h250oO/s1600/DSC_0300.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqYlOqyEizrgWY9zxeHoEUdLEUfA-hN92KqwXsjG2aN-uvRbPDM89ACtM4iW-ufJZZI_-S3EIpRpJDapjbl32_Vjve5h2jYRysRyuNEOwrEgclY78Kj5pVET0ZZ8K9gA-XwQcRP4h250oO/s1600/DSC_0300.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boat in a sea of plastic</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">To top off the visit, a friend of my wife took us to a local business man who amongst other things produces bird nests for the local market, but that did not interest us. He is the owner of a collection of relics from an old</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">Chinese junk that had sunk only 400 metres form the tip of Borneo over 1000 years ago. He had obtained them off the fishermen that had found the wreck in 2003.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">There is something magical to hold in your own hands pieces of pottery and bronze plaques of such age. Who made them? For Whom? Where were they going to? Questions that have no answers; lost in the midst of time.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">All goods things must come to an end, so after a seafood meal or two it was time to return via the twin otter.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So, would I go back again? Yes, for the seafood, the hotel and of course the twin otter.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjASGVFbzsSNxAoVEY9ldRjvKR3z3Il1jC-8NKuaef8uQnZQ0ldzUWYYWCua9IO1JuqxHNzsQWN-TP-l27-k-NtYIIlRc7WZQsUIqKMVlGRRZMav9vS0QQ_vgiqA0UADIRcja9fCyytbG/s1600/DSC_0277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjASGVFbzsSNxAoVEY9ldRjvKR3z3Il1jC-8NKuaef8uQnZQ0ldzUWYYWCua9IO1JuqxHNzsQWN-TP-l27-k-NtYIIlRc7WZQsUIqKMVlGRRZMav9vS0QQ_vgiqA0UADIRcja9fCyytbG/s1600/DSC_0277.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kudat</td></tr>
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-27243885573854235762014-09-04T05:19:00.001-07:002014-09-04T05:19:53.534-07:00Death In The Morning<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLrltxRbFmtMJfQQ4PbvaVsFjZar7fnmsR_EiOTVeCH2tWkHb1ZA4C1aEmwixUDY66Wk1tzBPlxUSIYLFbmJuQ-gGB03RFl7-r-SKyPop6Rdwxvt9bFeU3p0AZ38Z7ryoXHau3e09m3o5c/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLrltxRbFmtMJfQQ4PbvaVsFjZar7fnmsR_EiOTVeCH2tWkHb1ZA4C1aEmwixUDY66Wk1tzBPlxUSIYLFbmJuQ-gGB03RFl7-r-SKyPop6Rdwxvt9bFeU3p0AZ38Z7ryoXHau3e09m3o5c/s1600/images.jpeg" height="400" width="299" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tymooreart.com</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It was a morning like every other morning. I crawled out of bed to the sound of the alarm, 5 am to prepare for my 35-kilometre journey to work. At the time, I was working in Bangkok and though I didn't start until 8:30, the traffic and the distance necessitated an early start.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">After a quick shower I dressed and prepared to leave when I decided to check my email. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And there it was as bold as brass. Title : Mum has died.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> It took a second or so to register. I wouldn't say disbelief, for it wasn't totally unexpected she was 86, but a surreal feeling of being momentarily detached. My mother was dead, full stop, end of a story.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I spent years wondering how I would react when one of my parents died. The moment had come and to be blunt it wasn't the way I expected. After the initial surprise ( my brother sent the email and is always direct and straight to the point) I gathered myself and went to work as usual.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Never being close to my mother, I had over the years minimal contact. When I lived in Adelaide I would go visit my parents maybe 3 to 4 times a year, for half an hour or so. Anything longer and we used to get on each other's nerves, never seeing eye to eye. Arguments broke out easily, the visits were literally short, sharp and shiny. We just never connected as adults, let alone mother and son.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Anyway, I found myself spending that day thinking about possibilities. What if we had been close? </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Would my reaction be different, how different? </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">What if she had died 30 years earlier? Does your own age dictate the way you react? Lots to ponder and reflect on. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">More importantly, that day I thought about my own childhood, when I was young and my mother wasn’t an old lady. I remembered things I hadn’t thought about for years. Little things that don’t really matter, but reminded me of the tenuous link we shared as mother and son. She wasn’t a natural mother and in hind sight I think she struggled with her 4 children’s upbringing. Not to say she neglected us, we had more than adequate food, shelter and was looked after, but she lacked an emotional connection with us all - empathy. She was mechanical in the way she did things and that extended to the way she brought up her children. I assumed she loved us, but I never felt it. Nothing was ever said or done to demonstrate it or if there was; I just don’t remember.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The reflection only lasted a day and then life went back to normal for me.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As the old adage goes, we are a product of our upbringing. I look into a mirror these days and see my mother’s face as I get older. I notice the way I act at times is the way my mother did; the way I detested as a youth. </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">We should all learn by our life’s mistakes, though fighting powerful inherent forces that lie within is not so easy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">It’s interesting to talk to others about this. Some feel it's strange that I never grieved about her death, in fact I was and remain rather neutral in my feelings; somewhat empty. She occupies my thoughts only when something reminds me of my youth. Like all of us, unless we become famous we are only remembered through living memory; children and maybe grandchildren then forgotten for all eternity.</span> In the grand scheme of life, individuals mean very little, the specious propagates unabated through numbers until itself is eventually replaced by something more adept to life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">And circle of life continues on.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And the seasons they go round and round</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And the painted ponies go up and down</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We’re captive on a carousel of time…</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Joni Mitchell 1968</span></span><br />
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-44755595476807529812014-08-19T05:18:00.000-07:002014-08-19T05:46:02.835-07:00The Nectar Of The Gods<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of Bing</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">What makes a good wine? Ask a dozen people and get a dozen answers. I'll state from the very onset that I have very limited knowledge about wine, no </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">connoisseur here, I only drink the stuff, so that puts me with the 99% who haven't a clue either. Am I qualified to make comment then? I think so, because it’s the 99% that drive the industry. For these people only one criteria that matters - liking the taste or not. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I was brought up in an area surrounded by some of the better wine growing districts in the world. (The French might not agree.) Neither of my parents drank alcohol, so it wasn't until I became an adult that I started drinking wine. Beer and spirits never appealed. One you had to drown in lolly water to make it drinkable, the other was bitter and bloating. Wine is neither. After developing a palate for the reds tannin in preference to the mostly sweet whites, I found red to be the most satisfying to consume. By volume, it doesn't bloat and usually complements the food I ingest. A glass of Shiraz goes down well with a McDonalds hamburger! (Philistine I hear you scream.)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">This brings us to last night. Our friends invited us for dinner at their place and I was specifically asked not to bring a bottle as the host had a cupboard full that needed to be drank. Been given the </span>honour of deciding what to drink,<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> I inspected the 10 bottles on show and earmarked 2 for immediate drinking. Both were close to 10 years old. One of those, a Merlot 2005 from my old home town was opened first.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As most of us know, proper storage of wine is critical if you want to create the conditions necessary for it to reach its full potential. You couldn’t imagine a worse case scenario in this case, storage in a non air-conditioned room standing up right. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">My worst fears were realised when the cork started to disintegrate during removal. In fact, it broke in two and I could not get enough purchase on the remaining cork, so I did what any good wine expert (cough,cough) would do… use a knife to push the </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">recalcitrant</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"> cork fragments into the bottle.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Finding a tea strainer and plastic container I filtered as much of the floating cork particles from the wine as feasible. Two attempts later, all of the contaminate was removed or as much as the naked eye could tell.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Oddly the wine had little nose. In other words, I couldn't smell anything that clearly resembled any wine I knew, just a nondescript slightly sweet bouquet. The colour was unusual as well, chocolate brown with a dash of blood red.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">All this pointed towards a tasting disaster, but to our utter astonishment it was tasting extravaganza. What a pleasure to the palate, smooth and silky, sliding down the throat, leaving a delightful after thought behind. Even the non drinkers were impressed. And to top it all off, we displayed no after effects the next day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">Perfect!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">So it goes to show, in this case what should have occurred didn't happen. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">In the end it's the taste to you that matters and not any extensive wine knowledge.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Having said all this though, I have recently witnessed wine being mixed with coke! Now there is a limit to everything.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">À la vôtre</span></span><br />
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-67931133746554704282014-08-14T22:53:00.000-07:002014-08-15T06:41:17.543-07:00On a Wing And A Prayer - Kota Kinabalu Airport<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wing Over Sabah</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">A bleak afternoon, thunderstorms and driving winds. I arrived at Kota Kinabalu International Airport 4 hours early for my flight back to Sandakan. Very early I know, but being the conservative person I am and the water rising in the street, persuaded me to err on the side of caution.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This airport is only 6 years old and I must say usually a pleasure to arrive or depart from compared with most. It's medium sized as airports go, the third biggest in Malaysia after KL, catering for about 12 million passengers a year who visit Sabah. It's modern, metallic and has 12 air bridges, never feels busy and you can easily find a place to sit away from others. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">After disembarking from the taxi drenched, I sloshed towards the check-in counter and waddled through the x-ray past immigration that appeared to make only a cursory glance at the screen whilst continuing their more important discussion on the day’s current gossip. Maybe I don't look like a terrorist. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I arrived before my wife and her conference colleagues, waited in a state of misery, some what exacerbated by the building's cold air-conditioning. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Being a creature of habit I had immediately gone straight to my flight's departure gate, indicated by the electronic board as A8.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My wife and her friends duly arrived and as per usual discussed work, ignoring me. Feeling neglected, I got up and wandered around the terminal which is mostly empty of things to do. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The major shortcoming in the departure hall is that most of the allocated shop spaces are empty. There are dozens and dozens of empty 'shop fronts, in a myriad of short passages coming off the main thoroughfare. It's possible to go into the bowels of the retail area and be completely alone. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Interestingly there are two terminals at this airport which are diagonal across the runway from each other. The low cost terminal which is smaller is always very busy. It seems odd to me that they don't incorporate both under the same roof; more efficient way of using space and I suspect a way to enliven the retail areas. Anyway, the authorities must have their reasons, I suppose.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I happened to glance up at the departure board to discover, to my surprise, that the gate had changed to A6. I duly informed the others, so we gathered our belongings and moved to the new allocated gate. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Upon arrival, only a small group of tourists were milling around, we sat ourselves close to the front counter. The electronic board flashed up Sandakan and the flight number. A man sat there doing his paper shuffling and all seemed well. Except…</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The gate next to us was experiencing some sort of commotion with a group of about 10 passengers milling around an official all looking very animated. I had no idea what it was about, but can only assume it was something to do with a communication breakdown. ( maybe the infamous departure board) I couldn't hear anything from where we were, but it was highly entertaining and helped while away the remaining 45 minutes. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Being the observant creature I am , I noticed as the departure time approached, a distinct lack of passengers and no aircraft in the bay. Besides that, the little man at the front counter had suddenly disappeared and the electronic sign board had stopped flashing Sandakan. I walked to the departure board and as I am sure you have already guessed, discovered we were now back at A8. !!!</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A mad dash to the new gate ensured where we joined the throngs who were about to board the aircraft. ( How did they know and not us?) Throughout all of this there were no announcements on the intercom that things had changed.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Lesson to be learned. Mistake on my part - If I hadn't constantly been checking the departure board we would have been blissfully ignorant of the transitory change. Don't assume officialdom will tell you everything you need to know in this part of the world. Most information seems to be gained by the mysterious process of mental osmosis, you are just expected to know. For some reason, the authorities don't like giving out info unless it's deemed unequivocally necessary (to them). Who decides this is anyone's guess, so be prepared to expect the unexpected. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">One little side issue to finish, Just before take off, after the safety video, a short prayer was offered for the safe passage of the flight. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Now that really does instil confidence! </span></span></div>
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-11181641764051462292014-08-06T03:01:00.000-07:002014-08-06T03:05:02.960-07:00Wiring Sandakan Style<div style="text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio2s0IkF4XAiKx-LVPt8XOfkmzJFM0a3r_xWOFAl2khb_jjIjxp2wcvrTU9cBVaZrvqgygZqNL-O8dEwwTmccVKtdXMQC7FuRLxbnyhO24LpO8dDweMmXiu05ZBVhuG6_v_rV28XQFZTeT/s1600/IMG_2567.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio2s0IkF4XAiKx-LVPt8XOfkmzJFM0a3r_xWOFAl2khb_jjIjxp2wcvrTU9cBVaZrvqgygZqNL-O8dEwwTmccVKtdXMQC7FuRLxbnyhO24LpO8dDweMmXiu05ZBVhuG6_v_rV28XQFZTeT/s1600/IMG_2567.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">Half way between the local shopping precinct and where I reside, there is the local district telecommunication exchange - sub station. Well, I think that’s what it's called. It is a metal cylinder about one and a half metres tall which contains thousands of multi-coloured insulated copper wires.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I know because frequently, when I’m doing my daily walk to the coffee shop, I see an army of technicians working feverishly on a bundle of these wires. Not a pleasant job in the tropical sun, but a job that seems to occur all too often.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Telecommunication infrastructure in Sandakan is fully stretched. The fastest Internet connection that one can buy is a paltry 4 mbps and that is limited to only a few areas in town. We have just upgraded to 2 which is the highest possible in our street. They say 2 mbps but in reality if it crawls to 1.5 mbps we are ecstatic.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I shouldn’t complain really. Before the upgrade, the service would drop out 10 to 20 times a day. A technician investigated twice, 6 months apart. He assured us nothing was wrong with the phone line after inspecting the </span>fore mentioned<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> exchange. Miraculously the moment he left it’s been perfect ever since, well as perfect as it gets here. A little face saving I suspect. Anyway it's much better than it was, al</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia; letter-spacing: 0px;">though downloading anything of substance takes forever.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQJvEheCOdaXwfZ8IpTFkVru6dlBQ0ptNvFeGNQpjEYx-o46uCN5QzRNCKkDEFMtByZgYOuczLdTcM4n5MjrEd5avWNgAM7zPV6FScl5Uj63GhNlFsRkdQ-Lv7B5JgwvdqD9G0prwl2ep/s1600/IMG_2564.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQJvEheCOdaXwfZ8IpTFkVru6dlBQ0ptNvFeGNQpjEYx-o46uCN5QzRNCKkDEFMtByZgYOuczLdTcM4n5MjrEd5avWNgAM7zPV6FScl5Uj63GhNlFsRkdQ-Lv7B5JgwvdqD9G0prwl2ep/s1600/IMG_2564.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">The problem lies in the infrastructure. It’s old. The very poles that originally held a single phone line now attempt to hold numerous cables. They are thin and made of cast iron. Note the accompanying photographs. The original pole has bent over at right angles due to rust and weight. At some stage a second pole was erected in an attempted to add support to prevent it from collapsing. As you can see, a further pole has been added to support the other two and not to forget the four guide wires to keep all three poles from falling down. Crazy you say? Sure is. Why not replace the original pole in the first place with something that can support all the weight.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">Theirs is not to reason why…………</span></div>
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-58012020087941446492014-08-04T07:36:00.001-07:002014-08-04T15:13:01.754-07:00You Can Lead A Horse To Water, But...<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I was asked by my wife to make sure that my nephew was studying after school for his Form 5 final exams that are coming up in the next few months. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The response was as I expected, an excuse why he couldn’t do it right now ( this case a seemly urgent hair cut that couldn’t wait another day ) and a promise to get stuck into it as soon as he could. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Well we go through this game a number of times a week which always leads to a grumpy studier and a frustrated and exacerbated instigator. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Personally I couldn’t give a damn if he studies or not as he old and ugly enough to live by his own convictions; eighteen going on fourteen with not an ounce of foresight.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Cruel you say? Maybe so, but as the old adage goes you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink. After numerous speeches about how important these exams are for his future choices in life and only to find it falling on mostly deaf ears is infuriating and deflating. I don’t want to drag the horse along anymore. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This drives my wife, who spends an inordinate amount of time with him, to distraction, but she has more stamina and commitment to see it through than me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A lot of his attitude is a reflection of his environment. Pro active parents are very important defining the early direction their children take. The school and social aspects of the provincial town he has grown up in has not been very inspiring. Small town mentality does not necessary embrace the big picture. Ambition beyond the town limits is limited or in most cases non existent. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Success in life depends on a number of things, but innate intelligence and drive - perseverance I think are the most important.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Interestingly I have seen intelligent people do very little with their lives because they have lacked drive and conversely I have known success coming through hard work with limited intellect.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Of course “ success” per se is subjective; one man’s success is another man’s failure. It depends on the focus. Making money is probably societies main gauge in marking success. I personally endorse intellectual or humanitarian endeavour having never made any real money myself. I suppose if just before one kicks the proverbial bucket, one can feel satisfied in one’s life achievements than one has succeeded. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Maybe being happy and content with one's lot is success. Who knows.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">What ever the answer, the slate is always wiped clean in the end unless you believe in an afterlife, of course. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Perhaps we should all strive to be as good a person as we can be during our lifetime. Now that would be true success. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikiIlIz9f_1EBkIqmPNdSpA9eNX0NWDOCWSMGWxMKJLEXHyqckIbsueh2xuPMlWqkA1GTByvysrW_tUCs2Lj9XllaGSVtfKEEsU9muJEyWejIexHtvs8vZCvnPyfRCxf_ohWY7p4Swl0M2/s640/blogger-image--1780560991.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikiIlIz9f_1EBkIqmPNdSpA9eNX0NWDOCWSMGWxMKJLEXHyqckIbsueh2xuPMlWqkA1GTByvysrW_tUCs2Lj9XllaGSVtfKEEsU9muJEyWejIexHtvs8vZCvnPyfRCxf_ohWY7p4Swl0M2/s400/blogger-image--1780560991.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Which line to follow?</td></tr>
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-85208951178930069202014-07-26T02:33:00.004-07:002014-07-26T18:37:24.400-07:00My Last Swim<br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Nothing like a reality check. Having a relaxing, if lazy Saturday morning in the Sabah Hotel contemplating life as one does when in the middle of a mid life crisis, I decided it was time to try out the hotel’s swimming pool. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Not to swim mind you, just a quick slash and paddle. Never really having learned to swim, I can with a sort of toad-like breast stroke/ splash for all of 10 metres and if I’m feeling particularly energetic a robotic / cadaver back stroke. No potential olympian here, but a dreamer of greater things. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Anyway, I rustled through my backpack to find my well-worn-white-activity shorts and my never-been-to-the beach, beach towel. Taking a quick look in the mirror ( it’s always quick these days ) I perused my once manly figure and after missing a beat or two, darted out of the room towards the lift.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The pool was fortunately devoid of swimmers and apart from a few sun baking ( must be from Europe ) we had the place to ourselves. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Feeling more comfortable with this fact, I ordered a beer and a mineral water for my dearly beloved. I know before you say it, “You mustn’t drink and swim.” True, but as I explained, I shimmy rather silly than swim out on a limb. ( sorry, I couldn’t help myself ) </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A beer and the tropical sun builds a mountain of confidence. It was time to take the plunge.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Off with the T shirt, a final adjustment to the leisure shorts and a quick stroll to the pool ladder. Just before committing, I looked up and to my utter astonishment, the pool was now full of 20 somethings looking trim, lean and mean. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The men were built like Greek Gods and the women came straight from the garden of Eden. Not an ounce of fat to be seen. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As if to react to this sight, my sea of fat decided to become mobile. Waves of cellulose, starting from the navel, travelled south looking for landfall only to fold up and over my shorts looking much like a melting toy Humphrey B Bear placed to close to the heater. ( You would have to be Australian from the mid 60s to understand that one. )</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I slinked down the steps and covered the erupting jelly as fast as I could. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Now dear reader as i said before, I’m a dip-and-leave sort of swimmer, but I had to endure 1 hour of soaking until the last of the super beings left the pool. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And before I finish this little ditty I wish to leave you with this image. Remember the old white faithful leisure shorts of mine? Well, just think of wet and transparent! Not a pretty sight. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-48889439134686301752014-07-25T17:23:00.001-07:002014-07-25T18:20:54.846-07:00Holiday at home<div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Early morn and the birds outside the window can be heard as they greet the beginning of another hot and humid day in paradise. The hotel overlooks the extensive swimming pool, the largest in Sandakan proudly announced on the website. Not so impressive when you discover they're the only two hotel pools in town. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. No, this place is quiet apart from those birds. I can live with that. Much preferred to that cacophony of irritating noise pollution that greets me most other mornings. The room is cool to the extent it stimulates the skin into thinking that it's fresh and alive. A feeling that unless you have experienced it in a cold crisp environment is totally alien in the tropics. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The hotel we are are stopping in, to my mind, is the best in town. It's not the newest, in fact it's one of the oldest. No flat screen televisions here, but what it lacks in modern facilities it gains in space. You can swing the proverbial cat in this room and not hit the walls. What a combination of space and quiet. It's heaven to me! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We arrived last evening after an extensive drive of 5 minutes. Yes that's not a typo - 5 minutes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">You see it's my birthday this weekend and because of work commitments and other circumstances, it was too difficult to go anywhere out of town. So here we are at the Sabah Hotel 5 minutes from home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Silly, frivolous," I hear you say and I totally agree. But "a change is as good as a holiday" as they say and I can attest to that. </span></div>
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-85109139910135902182014-07-12T00:00:00.000-07:002014-07-24T00:36:32.713-07:00Is This Right?<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Is this right?" Deep within the recesses of my mind, these simple three words radiate into my consciousness. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">“What err </span>agh?<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">” is my slow response. Then, through the clearing fog of sleep deprivation, realisation strikes me like a hammer slamming on an anvil, I’m married to an English Teacher!!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Ok, ok a little dramatic I admit, but when you </span>are sharing a life<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> with someone who lives and breathes English teaching, discussion on the subtle nuances of the English language is never far below the surface. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My wife teaches English in a Malaysian high school. She is a local and English is her 3rd language. Because I’m a native speaker, I am often relied upon for advice to help correct any difficulties that arise in the spoken and written language that crop up from time to time. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I am capable in the language, but nowhere near and an expert. In fact, when it comes to editing my own work I’m what you could call, copy blind. I can read a sentence I have written numerous times and still not pick up an obvious mistake. My wife is much better at it. Where I do have an advantage is in conceptualising whereupon my writing relies on knowledge gained through a life time of experiences and extensive reading. This has help galvanised my thoughts into a reasonable coherent way when it comes to expressing myself on paper... (you might want to disagree after reading this)</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My wife, on the other hand, is the technician; much more structured and defined in content than I. She is more constrained in general usage whilst I, on the other hand, tend to be uninhibited. In other words, her style is adept for teaching the mechanics whilst mine is better in expressing fresh ideas in free form. (code for crappy in Grammar)</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">That was a little long winded, but in essence, we compliment each other well when it comes to doing a project together. But and it’s a big BUT.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I don’t live and breathe it like she does. So come midnight when I am in la la land and those dreaded words drift over into my dream state, I tend to get grumpy. I’m naturally grumpy and as old age approaches it isn’t getting better. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Now, I don’t want to give the impression I don't co operate with the request. I do, but I do it under duress. The way my mind works is that I can’t contemplate anything by just listening to the words. I have to read what is being said. Needless to say, I have to drag myself over to the desk to help. After much toing and froing, we come to some sort of consensus. I go back to bed, re enter lala land until once again the spell is broken with those most damning of all words - </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">“Is this right?” </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me approaching La La Land</td></tr>
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-72911328852529686672014-07-10T04:06:00.000-07:002014-07-24T00:37:31.375-07:00A Moment In Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The oval shaped fishpond stood there quiet and serene as the early rays of sunshine pierced the outer layers of the glasshouses exterior. The crisp cool morning air settled deep within my lungs as the shadows and light intermingled on the flat undisturbed water, playing with each other as the Lilly Pads watched on.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> They always did this, I observed, whenever the morning sun was able to break through the gloomy winter cloud. The many pads large and small spread out over the water’s surface, green flat circular serving plates awaiting the day’s meal of sunlight.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Only a single delicate white flower broke the sea of green, the belle of the ball looking to be asked to dance but alas all the likely suitors were preoccupied, a symbolic wallflower.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Most of the activity this morning was below the surface. The small silver fish, amphibians and invertebrates stirred into life, darting here and there looking for security under the giant Lily pads as the light penetrated all the way to the bottom of the red concrete pool.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> All this was happening as a young couple stood in deep thought on the far side. A moment in time shared with some strangers. Never to be repeated.</span></span></div>
Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-19215196207508828332014-07-02T02:01:00.001-07:002014-07-24T00:38:09.049-07:00The Day The Internet Died<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Headline, headline read all about it, shock horror!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">October the 12th 2018 at 9am, the day the Internet died.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Just what if… the unthinkable happened, the Internet stopped. Stopped, ceased to function in its entirety. Computers once again became self-contained isolated islands in a sea of unaccessible information. Good for writing on, doing some sums and playing games. That's it! The smart phone lost its smarts. The iPad was now a no info dumb pad, only good for games and taking photos.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">We have just all become time travellers, back, back... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">25 years to the dawn of information enlightenment.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But why?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Rumours abounded that it was them, the powers to be, who wanted to wind back the clock to a time and place they could control. The drift of power to the people had become too much for some. Who knows?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">For whatever reason it was, it just stopped working one day, gone the next.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As for me? At first, I found it slightly bemusing. It wasn't like everything had stopped. Like, I mean to say, it wasn't the end of the world, not a sequel to "Day of the Triffids" or anything as dramatic as that. The cars and buses moved along the street. The shops still sold food and other goodies. Life bobbled along as usual. Besides, it made very little difference to the older generation. Most have never really embraced the computer age, the Internet thing. No siree, made not a jot of difference to them. They continued to watch television and read their newspapers like nothing had happened.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But then the reality for others was quite different.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The young were at a loss. No instant gratification posting selfies or social chat. For many their world is online; no Internet no life. The prospect of having to make personal contact with their distant Internet friends was now impossible. Those friendships however tenuous were now extinct. The art of conversation in person had to be relearned and not just that, but eye contact, looking at people instead of a screen; painfully difficult for some. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Now before I go on, I will have to confess something to you. Even though I don't pass off these days as a youngster, I'm not ancient either, but I do love finding out things. You see I'm a bit of an information junkie, so after the initial shock of losing my play thing, I became deeply depressed. After a few days, I was finding withdrawal difficult to handle. My daily fix was not getting met. In fact I was at a lost to know what to do. Relying on the printed media (never watch TV) for my daily dose of info was without doubt unsatisfactory.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I had become over the years skeptical about a lot of the things written in newspapers. The owners political leanings dictated the direction most articles expressed. I know, I know, what you are saying. Can't belief what you read on the Internet too, but there is a difference and a big one at that. I can choose to read what I want and not be restricted to local sources. And more importantly, I can choose different forms of information delivery, social networking versus more formal sources of information, for example. By using both I could decipher, as they say, the chaff from the wheat or to put it more crudely the crap from the good. I had the control, not them. Besides, it was fun trying to work out fact from fiction. I could discuss issues with others of similar ilk with ease and at little cost and come to my own conclusions.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Think of the disputes that will now occur around the dinner table. Mr X says A, Miss Y says that's not true, it's B, Mrs Z thinks they're both wrong it's C, old aunt doubleXX thinks it's all three! No instant confirmation now. No going to the Internet to solve the dispute. Just a lingering background of unease; life will never be the same again!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I was dreading having to pay the bills! I used to hate going into a bank or what every public utility at the best of times, waiting in line forever. What a complete waste of one's time. Much prefer being online, done and dusted in a few minutes not to mention the saving on fuel to get there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The cat had been let out the bag so to speak, but was now securely back in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Maybe I’ve become a little paranoid.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Oh, well such is life. Think of the positives. Ummm, are there any? Oh yes, of course: books shops would come back into vogue; I might read a novel (hard copy) in the evenings before bed again; talk on the phone instead of looking at its screen all day; go for a walk to smell the roses. Maybe not all is lost.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It's hard to go back in time and live a way you are used to then, but are not now. Like most things there is good and bad. The scales of right justness will tell us if we come up short or not.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I look down at my lonely white phone and sigh, It was a lovely love affair while it lasted, but like all good things, it has come to an unexpected end.</span></div>
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-41715720019816777352014-06-18T02:28:00.002-07:002014-07-24T00:39:01.403-07:00Food or Selfie - Which One Will it Be?<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Sitting in my favourite coffee shop once again, thinking, something I do a lot of these days. Been reading a couple of books lately about the wonders of the human brain and how it functions and the fight between proponents of theism and atheism. Am I going to discuss the lofty heights both these subjects reach? No, of course not. I wouldn't be able to give them justice. Besides, I want to talk about something much more important - taking photos of food you're about to eat. </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Yes, folks, this phenomenon has been with us for sometime, but the ubiquitous use of mobile phones has increased the practice </span>exponentially<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">.</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Facebook is full of foodie pics. Why? Is it to torture your poor student friends who are in their dorm eating cornflakes with no milk or Maggie instant noodles with no flavouring? Or, maybe the person you are dining with is so darn boring, taking photos of food is a form of cerebral relief. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Could you imagine going to see your friends for real and showing them a picture of what you had for breakfast. They would give you a queer look and think, “Get a life,” but somehow posting it on </span>Facebook<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> etc. transforms you into an interesting informed foodie. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I can almost understand it, if the dish was exquisitely presented and made from unusual exotic ingredients, but photography of a plate of fish and chips or Nasi Campur - Really! </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Woe betide any one eating before the unforgettable snaps (in this case an oxymoron) have all been taken, sacrosanct. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Maybe some are documenting it in case it's their last meal, like a condemned prisoner awaiting their execution, so all the world can goggle over what they have consumed before they depart to the afterlife. (Makes me think, what is a perfect last meal? Is it better to be light - toast and marmalade or go out with a bang, a full blown 3 courser with all the bells and whistles - I transgress.)</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Needless to say 99.9999..... % survive to eat another day.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Oh, the memories of using film for photography. No indiscriminate shots of food those days. It would have to be the level of a wedding banquet or a 21st birthday to justify the expense.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Maybe I'm being a little too harsh here. The average punter doesn't give it a lot of thought. As long as you have a constant stream of info to amuse your friends ( or not ) on Facebook, that's all that matters. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">After reading most of the banality that passes for comment on social media, the occasional picture of food is fairly harmless and of course much, much better than that narcissistic selfie! </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Exquisite example of a bowl of light fluffy opaque over processed white rice. </span></td></tr>
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-24011608981443652192014-06-15T06:18:00.000-07:002014-07-24T00:39:36.752-07:00The Lost Art of Reading<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The ironic part of this post is that the thrust of what I'm about to say most probably </span>won't<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> apply to you. The simple fact you are looking at this means you obviously enjoy reading. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Reading is an activity that most of us do, </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">on a daily basis, </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">without much thought. We read the street signs going to and from work and school. We read the daily news in print form, online or more likely, the headlines on television. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Some of us are "Readers" and some of us are not. What I mean to say is, only a relatively small percentage of the population read books for pleasure. Is this a good thing? You can argue either way, I suppose, but I know through my experience people who read extensively are generally more knowledgeable and interesting to talk to. Of course, that's a generalisation and I can hear you say from here that Uncle Freddy has never read a book in his life and he's interesting, the life of the party and knows everything about everybody and everything about everywhere. True, but for all the Uncle Freddys' in this world, there are plenty of Nigel knows nothing.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Most of us start learning to read at school from early age. We have to be able to read, if we want to learn from our text books and expand our knowledge and understanding of the world. Very few enjoyed the experience though. Reading can be tedious and boring for those who are have not developed the love for it by being exposed to their parent's bedtime stories.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Not long ago, I was in a senior </span>high school <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">classroom conducting a meet and greet session when I popped the question. How many of you read books for pleasure? Out of the class of 50, only two raised their hands. Out of those two, only one read fiction novels. You might be thinking to yourself, that's all very well, but these students are busy learning and spending time using their text books. This is true up to a point but </span>here<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> is another example to ponder. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">In another senior class for English studies, the curriculum had </span>designated<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> only a single novel to be studied. In the best class for that level, less than 50 percent bothered to read the book. They relied on formulated answers for exam preparation to pass. I would suspect this is not uncommon around the world. Very few want to read for pleasure and even fewer want to read anything with substance. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Is the art of reading dying?</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Today's youth have access to television and computers. </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">To most, watching a movie is much more enjoyable than reading a story.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Movies are visual, of course and the information is fed to us by picture form and sound. We can relax and let it wash over us in a manner that requires little energy or thought. Books, on the other hand, require us to create an image inside our head through words that ignite our imagination. It’s not passive information gathering; we have to work at it. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The question to be asked then, ‘Is child development being hampered by not using reading as a tool for mental stimulation?’ This is not to say television or computers don’t hold an important place in the education </span>development </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">of the young, as they clearly do, but isn’t it like only having 4 senses to survive instead of 5? We can be blind and still live, but we can’t see what the world really has to offer.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Varied reading is like that. It opens our minds up for us to see the many possibilities that exist. It </span>creates<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> new worlds for us to explore; places and events that we may never </span>be able<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> to experience in real life but can dream about through the power of the </span>written word. Sadly, where I live, there is not a single book shop where I can go and buy a novel. It's an ever increasing reflection on the dominance of other forms of media. I'll leave you with this thought.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">There is a tendency for authorities around the world to attempt to control the content of electronic and printed media. It is relatively easy to do. By owning the TV stations and the press, you can feed the populous, pancakes instead of soufflé. Books, on the other hand, are much harder to censor. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Life awaits you in this beautiful world of words. Go and find out for yourself. </span></div>
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-62215930493615656482014-05-29T20:27:00.002-07:002014-07-24T00:40:19.707-07:00Behind These Eyes<div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">At breakfast, a close friend said to me I was looking good yesterday morning. I replied in my usual jovial dry way that you should see it from my side. I wasn't feeling the way I was apparently looking. Apart form the fact she was probably just being kind, this made me think about perceptions. Most people pride themselves on the ability to read others. I wander how accurate those perception are. If close to someone, overtime we learn to read their moods, when to speak and when not to etc. This, of course is an important part of a relationship. The word empathy is used a lot to describe this ability. We can empathise with someone who has experienced a death in the family or failure in an exam, but what about organic depression or severe anxiety. If we have never experienced it ourselves, are we confident to say we do understand? Not so straight forward, I think.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I remember a long time ago talking to an elderly man I was looking after in hospital. What he said to me has stayed with me ever since. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Never for one moment make the mistake that who you are talking to thinks exactly the way you do."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Never truer words have been spoken. The human brain is a very complex thing and depending on what it's been exposed to, will react in many different ways. Environment and culture influence those experiences. Being immersed in our culture from birth, we are all indoctrinated to some extent to the ways of our society. The view of world is through the eyes of those who have come before us. Some societies are more authoritarian than others; the process of expressing oneself may be more restrictive. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So, to an extent we are all products of our upbringing, controlled from birth to act in certain ways. The shackles of these restraints are either thrown off by the end of our youth through life experiences or stay with us for the rest of our lives. The more educated / well read we become the more flexible in our thinking; maybe, maybe not. I know well-educated acquaintances who haven’t a flexible bone in their body or so, it seems to me. But I think in general the ability to be reflective comes from life experiences.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Though the human mind can close itself off if a vested interest or two gets in the way. A few politicians and business types immediately come to mind. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I've gone off topic a bit here. All I'm trying to say is we really never know what others are thinking or feeling. That doesn't mean we should stop trying to find out. It was kind of nice that someone told me I was looking good. But then again, maybe they need a new pair of glasses.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Just to finish off, my "friend" told me this morning I looked tired. Ahh! I feel much better now, back to normal.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Behind Theses Eyes - Not a pleasant sight</span></td></tr>
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-29143500736527161122014-05-27T07:44:00.000-07:002014-07-24T00:49:27.392-07:00The Red and Blue Ribbon<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Stewart stared across the breakfast table at his small grandson eating his cereal with a spoon. Sam had been stopping with them all week as his parents were in Adelaide for work. They enjoyed having him around as it reminded them of their own little boy all those years ago. Friday, one more to go. He had promised him this weekend they would go fishing, something they both enjoyed immensely. Steward does most of the fishing of course, while little Sam plays at his feet with whatever is lying around on the wooden planks of the old Beachport jetty. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Steward gazed out the window at the inclement weather. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Ahhh, a wet drive to work." </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The fog had still not lifted and hung low over the ground in wispy pools of white.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Sam made himself comfortable in front of the television to watch Play School.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Aren't you going to give grand dad a kiss before he goes to work?" </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Steward received no response.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"I'm wearing that red and blue ribbon pin you gave me for my birthday, pinned to my jacket." </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Sam was transfixed to the screen. Steward smiled to himself, kissed his wife on the cheek and walked out the front door.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Mount Burr, where they lived, was a good 45-minute drive to Steward's job in Mount Gambier, very easy with most of it on the country's main road, National Highway No 1. The tall pine tree plantations stood like soldiers to attention with only their feet visible, their heads inside the clouds.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Steward's new Land Rover backed out of the drive, on to the side road and slowly motored up a slight incline towards highway No 1.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Well, this is bad, can't see a bloody thing," he stated aloud to himself.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The car parted the mist like a ship parted the ocean, disturbing the air only long enough for it to flow back upon itself and leave no trace of the disturbance.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Steward fiddled with the radio's frequency knob until he found his favourite station. It was playing a song he knew well. Rock Around the Clock by Bill Haley and the Comets. That brought back memories. The night he met his wife, Sandy at the local town dance, they were playing that song. A little rye smile passed across his face as he thought of all good times they had spent together over the years. The raising of their boys into men they could be proud of.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The 3 kilometres to the turnoff was slow and tedious. The fog refused to lift. For a moment, Steward thought he could see the sun trying to force its way through the thickened soup but he wasn't sure. How he hated driving in the fog. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Crawling along the narrow road, he came across no other cars. It was 7.30 am and normally you would have passed something by now. The radio gave out a fit of static then recommenced suddenly with a male announcer.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Good morning all, what a beautiful spring morning we are having today." </span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Roger Monk here wishing you a pleasant day ahead. Steward's ears pricked up. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Roger Monk? He's been retired for years. What's he doing back on air?" </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Steward was perplexed. Maybe they dug him out of retirement for nostalgic reasons. Music replaced the voice and another golden oldie was played. Steward himself didn't know this one.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It was taking forever to get to the highway. The side road was full of pot holes much more than he remembered. He cursed the council for not doing its job properly. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Finally he reached the turn off, it was still quite dark and he could hardly make out the road markings. Turning left, he observed a sign he had never noticed before. It was made of wood, white and pointed at the leading edge with words Mount Gambier 20 miles.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"What the heck!" Steward was confused. "When did the council start using wooden signage with mileage written on it?" </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Steward smiled to himself and shook his head.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"I must be dreaming. They haven't used imperial measurements since 1966."</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He felt uneasy though. The car drove slowly forward when to his total astonishment he notice another bazaar thing. The national highway was now only a single lane.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">At that moment, a logging truck steamed passed at high speed in the opposite direction, surprising Steward to the extent he almost ran off the road.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Steward took a few deep breaths. “What was going on? The truck seemed to come from no where.”</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The roads so narrow, it’s not like this, it’s a national highway, dual lanes. Where is it? Have I taken a wrong turn? I can’t have. I have driven this road for years.”</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Questions with no answers raced through his mind. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The radio spluttered again into static. Steward played with the tuning knob and found a station on an unfamiliar frequency. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The surprises didn’t stop coming. Robert Menzies' voice filled the airways telling all to prepare for war.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Steward was totally confused.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“I must be going mad.” </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He wasn’t sure what to do. He slowed to a crawl. The roads surface was now poor, rutted and loose. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He looked down to his mobile phone and found no signal. The radio was now solid static.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The fog was lifting. The sun shone through, burning off the remaining mist to reveal a beautiful day. Steward wound the window down and took a deep breath. What superb air, he had not smelt anything like it. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The surrounding countryside looked very different. Large gum trees dominated either side of the road, the pine plantations had disappeared. The odd small clearing opened up amongst the trees to reveal the stone farm houses. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Steward's head was spinning. This could not be. Was he dreaming or caught in some type of time warp? No answers. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The road was now an overgrown track. He stopped and jumped out. This was very foreign. Nothing was familiar apart from the gum trees and the vast number of birds in the sky. Kangaroos could be seen everywhere. Curious and unafraid, they stood in mobs observing this strange distressed creature with the lost expression.</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwJE783YPKUERgDj59aJpKJFZZ6ahEEHIYtlSkUJmqjklkDIu0hLDDSbiBtVdphTBl6eSymMwiMJXQpX-qkDsNB8C_QomJVUuv1yew9Cg8C5xMvW_ztc4Pg75uxJRg1rXVmrau2IkpOsPM/s1600/images-8.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwJE783YPKUERgDj59aJpKJFZZ6ahEEHIYtlSkUJmqjklkDIu0hLDDSbiBtVdphTBl6eSymMwiMJXQpX-qkDsNB8C_QomJVUuv1yew9Cg8C5xMvW_ztc4Pg75uxJRg1rXVmrau2IkpOsPM/s1600/images-8.jpeg" height="248" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mob of Kangaroos</span></td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Without warning, a spear pieced the thick undergrowth and thudded into a large red gum just to the left of his head. He awoke from his distressed state as the adrenaline kicked in. He noticed a slight gap between two </span>sheoaks<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> and darted through it. Running as fast as his old legs permitted, he headed for a rocky outcrop that might offer some protection. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Panting like an overworked sheep dog, he scurried behind the first boulder he reached. Peering around the rock, he discovered he need not have worried, no one was following. Steward caught his breath, then proceeded to walk to the crest of the hill to see where he was.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Looking out over the far reaching green plain, the area was deeply wooded, interwoven with vast interlocking wetlands. Hugh flocks of birds created clouds of colour as they took to the air, circling and returning to earth in a vast shimmering wave. Dotted over the landscape, a few thin wispy grey streaks of smoke drifted upwards towards the heavens, camp fires by the aborigines. A world of tranquility, except for a flickering glow of orange and red on the horizon, standing out in stark contrast to the rest of the greens and greys, an artist inadvertently dabbing the wrong water colours on to his masterpiece. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It took a moment until he realized what he was observing. Though it was still cool, sweat poured down his brow and on to his eyes. He wiped the salty solution away. An uncontrollable tremble took over his body. He fell to his knees.</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Mount Gambier, the volcano had not erupted for 4600 years and there he was watching it. Steward touched the small red and blue ribbon his grandson had given him and cried. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He eventually staggered to his feet and slowly descended the ridge walking towards the far distant glow not knowing what to do or where to go. He staggered on for what seemed hours. </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">He looked down at his boots, now covered in water. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">These were the old wet lands of the South Australia's Southeast before the European settlers drained them. </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">It felt a thousand pairs eyes were focused at him, but he saw no one. </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He wandered through the wetlands looking for the telltale smoke of an aboriginal campfire for he needed to be with others. The anxiety of dying in the wilderness alone mounted in his ever increasing confused mind. What did he do to deserve this fate? Where did he go wrong? More questions with no answers.</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Exhaustion set in, he could no longer stay on his feet. The sun was low when he slid to the ground underneath an old red gum and rested his back upon the trunk. He closed his eyes. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A bright light appeared in his dream. The light spoke to him, it was his dear beloved Sara. She whispered to his soul, she was there by his side. The light became brighter and with it, all fear left his body. Her comforting face filled the space in in his head. All was well now. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A large group of aborigines surrounded the prostrate body lying still, under the old gum tree. A large black hand removed the pin on Steward's jacket and they all milled around to admire the beautiful soft blue and red ribbon, wondering what it was.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">Sam was stilled glued to the television set when the screen flashed brilliant white before fading in on itself to a pin prick. For a moment he thought he saw his grandfather's face. </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Grandma come here quick, the television is broken."</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">No response. He jumped up and ran around the house looking for her. </span></span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Grandma , Grandma, where are you? Talk to me I'm scared, Grandma, Grandma..."</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Twenty years later</b>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Sunday afternoon and Sam got up from the couch, as he was shouting to his sons. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"We're going out, get your things. Enough lying around for the day." </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Two small adorable fair haired boys fell into line as they giggled to each other. </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">The twins loved it when dad took them for a drive. It was always an adventure and the chance of an ice cream or piece of cake was always on the cards.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Daddy, where are we going today?" they chortled back.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Surprise!" was the abrupt reply.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Sam had read in the local newspaper about an interesting local discovery a few years ago. A cave with Aboriginal paintings had been discovered in a range of hills close to Mount Gambier. Remarkable to think that after all these years of European settlement, they were still finding artefacts. It was being open to the public for the first time and he was keen to take a look. Besides that, the boys loved drawing and were always interested in the bedtime stories he told them about the aboriginal dreamtime. Getting them away from the television had become a priority. He remembered watching way too much tv himself as a child.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikEcVGoNt6qssrqs0Zx1OvEJf1wKrBPgnWK5dWohkChaxfVeZHyP_7abbOh2kwbkq1f5q169vBqQmr3-hOUP0swX6hsejnrGggEr4tjxH39hZuE-LUW5W2PvBUPg76I_8G-vNS7F_1kuRt/s1600/images-9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikEcVGoNt6qssrqs0Zx1OvEJf1wKrBPgnWK5dWohkChaxfVeZHyP_7abbOh2kwbkq1f5q169vBqQmr3-hOUP0swX6hsejnrGggEr4tjxH39hZuE-LUW5W2PvBUPg76I_8G-vNS7F_1kuRt/s1600/images-9.jpeg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Aboriginal elder</span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It was a glorious day, the sun shone fiercely through the few clouds that were in the sky. They bumped along the old dirty track that led to the caves. A number of other cars followed behind looking for the new signs that were put up to direct them to the location. </span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">This part of the area's vegetation was till mostly intact and had survived the farming revolution as it was designated a national park early on in the </span>country's<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> history.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A make shift car park had been organised on a piece of flat land below a rocky outcrop. The path to the cave was steep and difficult to transverse. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The boys plodded on gamely. Not complaining at all. Sam was proud. He thought how much better behaved they were than him at a similar age.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Eventually the path ended and after rounding a large boulder a small opening could be seen under a ledge. It wasn't very obvious, so he now understood why this had not been discovered earlier. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">After crawling on all fours for some metres, the cavern opened up. A temporary lighting arrangement was in place. It did a good job of exposing the magnificent array of cave drawings. A guide was on hand to explain to the public the significance of what they were witnessing. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9Mm9sWnWVhQv-n_WfjTwSTEDK1zz6NpL0ZQBYO7U9V4jO-ishP_eSrNYpy4BqCmke04A-PWNrKDWNqjgSqEl6hMoiDoxewm-449P-Off4DYBDkrJyx8b_s8XmYLZPBfM9oJ45HlSsAIt/s1600/images-7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9Mm9sWnWVhQv-n_WfjTwSTEDK1zz6NpL0ZQBYO7U9V4jO-ishP_eSrNYpy4BqCmke04A-PWNrKDWNqjgSqEl6hMoiDoxewm-449P-Off4DYBDkrJyx8b_s8XmYLZPBfM9oJ45HlSsAIt/s1600/images-7.jpeg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Aboriginal rock art from various locations - Google images</span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The boys looked on in awe, mouths opened. The scene was one with nature. Kangaroos, wallabies, emus and birds of all kinds. Beautifully depicted in the aboriginal way, vivid natural colours with simple, but inspiring symbols. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">At the back of the chamber in all its prominence was the erupting volcano. The aborigines were there to witness the event. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Sam took a step back to take everything in. </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">His eye glanced upon a curious symbol - two blue and red lines. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Memories flooded his mind from that long ago day. He had been frantic, he could not find his grandmother. He ran screaming to the next door neighbour for help.</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Where's my Grandma? I want my Grandma." </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Police cars, sirens, people everywhere.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">His dream was broken, upon hearing the guide make a comment about the two-coloured lines. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"The archeologists don't quite understand this symbol yet. It doesn't relate to any animal or plant we know of. At the moment the meaning seems to be lost in time."</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Sam with a tear in his eye, looked down at his two small boys. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But he knew.</span></span><br />
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-43891132991387910482014-05-22T04:44:00.000-07:002014-07-24T00:41:51.425-07:00Never Too Late<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The week had been a long difficult one. Pressure was building at work to finish my current project before the end of month cut off. My wife was also looking forward to a more relaxed weekend having to put up with me, grumpy and irritated most evenings through the week. Both of us looked forward to retirement in the not to distant future. Do some travelling; a spot of fishing maybe; fix up my extremely untidy overgrown garden and do the odd job or two around the house. Work, work existing to work. We had been talking about have more balance in our lives for years, but it never seemed to get any easier. Anyway it was Friday, time to wind down in front of the tele which we did after a quick but tasty toasted sandwich dinner. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I had dozed off when the door bell startled me back to reality. I looked at my wife puzzled.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “Who could this possible be at this time of night?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I glanced at my watch, 11.30. Way too late for anyone to be calling. I staggered to my feet, body stiff from inactivity and lumbered towards the front of the house. I felt uneasy as I tentatively opened the door a fraction and peered out. It took a moment or two for my eyes to focus on the blue uniform.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Good evening Sir, am I speaking to Mr Peter Larkin?" the burlier of the two policeman asked. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Yes that's me. What can I do for you?"</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The two policeman glanced at each other and the smaller one spoke.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Do you mind if we come inside for a moment?"</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Certainly."</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Peter led the men down the narrow corridor to the family room where they sat down on the settee. Stella, Peter's wife had a concerned look on her face. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"This isn't going to be good, " she thought to herself.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The burly policeman took a deep breath in before he spoke.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Do you have a son Robert Anthony Larkin?"</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">" Yes, what's happened to him?"</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"I'm sorry to inform you, Mr and Mrs Larkin, your son has died in a motor accident on the freeway 6 pm this evening."</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The words didn't mean anything to Peter at first. I t was like they had no meaning, not real, just words. Stella's scream didn't even seem really. He looked around the room in this daze and felt the tears rolling down his cheeks. The pain of reality seeped into his consciousness. His hand felt for Stella. She was inconsolable and collapsed onto the back of the settee sobbing.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">After a few minutes, the burly policeman spoke. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"I know this is a very difficult time for you, but unfortunately I must ask you to come to the hospital to identify the body."</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Peter didn't answer at first. His mind was struggling to comprehend. He had not seen Robert for almost 2 years, even though they lived in the same city. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Yes of course," he eventually murmured. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We haven't seen each other in years and now I'm going to see his corpse. He thought, how ironic. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Peter and Stella sat in the back of the police car, numb. Life would never be the same again. Robert was their only child. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Peter thought long and hard. He knew it was he who had driven him away. He was to blame, no one else. Poor Stella was torn between the two loves of her life and in the end, sided with her husband. He had no right to have let this happen. But he did. His pig headedness created this mess.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Peter and Stella married later in life. Robert wasn't born until they were both close to 40.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Robert was not like his dad. As a youngster he was shy, timid and insecure. The polar opposite to Peter the self-assured high flyer. The corporate animal who lived and breathed work. He was never home and when he was had little time for his wife and child. His job was to provide for them and that was what he excelled at. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The passing street lights filtered and flickered an array of motley ghostlike shadows through the glass window on to the occupants' faces as they sped along the almost deserted highway to the hospital. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It wasn't all bad; there were times they tried to get along. Robert longing for his Dad's love and attention, but Peter's short fuse and intolerance would more often than not, surface to destroy whatever little bond that was developing. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Never close, as time went on, they drew even further apart. Adolescent was particularly difficult. Robert was not good at school and struggled with low self-esteem. He got into some trouble with the police, petty larceny, nothing too serious. Peter could not accept a son of his would do such a thing. They never spoke to each other much after that.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The last straw came just over two years ago. His son had just got his first real job. It was going to work for a department store as a sales assistant. Stella was so happy for him and knew that deep down he finally felt good about himself. It was a start and that is what he needed.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The car was nearing the hospital. Peter stared out the window and remembered what a fool he had been. Instead of being happy for the lad, he had started an argument. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"A son of mine should not be working in any department store as a common salesman," h</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">e shouted at his son. </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Robert shook with rage. Even in his finest hour, he still wasn't good enough for his father. Without thinking, he lashed out.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Peter just remembers sitting on the floor with blood streaming down his face.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Get out! Get out! And never set foot inside this house again. Do you hear me? Go!"</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And with that he went, never to return. Stella was beside herself, torn between love for her son and her husband. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Stella was the last to get out of the car. She didn't want to go in. She had forgone her only son two years previously and knew now it had been the biggest mistake of her life. She would never receive the forgiveness she longed for. Never hear the words from his lips," I love you mum." Two years ago she had taken sides. At this moment she hated herself and despised her husband.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Peter walked in front of the policeman as the approached the morgue. He just wanted to get it over with. Stella sat down on a bench outside. She just couldn’t do it. The memories of him being alive was all she desired.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The refrigerator door was open and the body shrouded in a white sheet was pulled out. Peter took a deep breath and braced himself. This was to be the last time he would ever see his son in circumstances no parent should ever endure.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The burly policeman readied to pull the sheet back off the face.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Are you ready, sir?” </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Yes, just do it.”</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Peter’s eyes misted over. The face was exposed.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Peter was transfixed and started to stagger backwards. The policeman caught hold of his arm.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“You ok, sir?”</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“This is not my son.”</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Excuse me, sir but the shock can confuse. He’s been in a terrible accident.”</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“This is not Robert.”</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He quickly turned and bolted out the door to find his wife. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Stella, it’s not him, it’s not him.” </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She looked up from her handkerchief with eyes as wide as saucers and embraced as they cried together.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The police came out of the morgue looking concerned in deep conversation. The burly one stepped forward and explained that the only identification discovered at the scene of the accident was a driver's licence with their son's name on it. Maybe it was stolen? He asked whether they knew where their son lived</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Peter had no idea, but Stella, gazed up at Peter and uttered, </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“I think I know where to find out.”</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">Robert Larkin was still in bed when the door bell rang. The sun was barely up and for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine who could possibly be calling this time of the morning. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyULvrqb1EtZGCdoWUhNPZ6uB8LFqZi3FPcQHQZLhMEb3IioYuoWtUMcaXCfWQn9ddpC-W5uXjuksEs2NDnOwijVr96DEo5zmY-0no61SugfbqOxsXsODdptZltxdhOgI6A4TgGnne3Zqb/s1600/father-and-son1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyULvrqb1EtZGCdoWUhNPZ6uB8LFqZi3FPcQHQZLhMEb3IioYuoWtUMcaXCfWQn9ddpC-W5uXjuksEs2NDnOwijVr96DEo5zmY-0no61SugfbqOxsXsODdptZltxdhOgI6A4TgGnne3Zqb/s1600/father-and-son1.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Father and son - Google photos</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-24834737725194368992014-05-22T04:43:00.000-07:002014-07-24T00:42:34.538-07:00First Impressions of KLIA 2<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">After our pleasant few days in Malacca, we journeyed down by bus to the new KLIA 2 low cost terminal. I looked forward to exploring the new buildings as I frequently fly Air Asia. They have an enormous presence there, </span>utilising <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> over 80% of the </span>allocated<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> space for airlines. The old LCCT “tin shed" was not a particularly pleasant place to spend time between connecting planes. I was not to be disappointed.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The new terminal is situated less than 2 kilometres from KLIA. This is far closer than the old LCCT terminal that took up to 40 minutes by road to get to. The Express train now joins both in less than 3 minutes. This should facilitate the movement between two terminals to a mild inconvenience. </span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 17px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">First impressions as you enter the new terminal is that it doesn't feel much like an airport terminal, but more like a shopping mall. In fact it's called Gateway@KLIA2 and locals are being encouraged to use it as such. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The building is in 3 parts, the drop-off and pick-up - private and public transport hu</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">b where you walk into the Gateway shopping area then finally through to the main terminal building itself. The entire three areas have extensive shopping, 330 retail shops in total, I believe. At this stage only a little over a half are open. This, at first glance, is no low cost shopping experience. In fact, it's the complete opposite, with brand name boutiques and chic restaurants throughout. There is even an upmarket extensive supermarket. The first one I have seen at an international airport.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The airfare may be low cost but the shopping experience will make up for it. Spend a few hours shopping here and you'll need to be paying for excess luggage. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The building is designed for shopping through and through. No direct walk to the departures. The pathways bow left and right from the central line in a semi circle much like a peeled onion to make sure you have to walk passed most of the retail area. There is very little seating, a clever ploy I think, so if you want to rest your weary feet it must be in a coffee shop or such.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I joked with my wife that next time we can fly in from Sandakan, do the shopping, then return the same day without leaving the building.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">In all seriousness, I'm no great spender so this is mostly wasted on me and maybe for the majority. It will be interesting to see how well businesses prosper in the future especially the non-food outlets that are not on the main thoroughfare. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The KLIA express (train) comes right into the centre of the buildings. It’s only a 30 minute trip into Sentral (main station) Kuala Lumpur. It’s quick and very convenient, though a little expensive at 35 Ringgit one way. The buses are slower but a lot cheaper at about 10 Ringgit . </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As I didn't arrive at the new terminal, I can only comment on departures. The experience was seamless. Efficient baggage drop off with minimal wait and plenty of operational x-ray machines. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The departure / arrival departure gates number 5 on 4 piers. The outer pier requires a long walk over a skybridge to get to and takes a good 10 to 20 minute. No issues with seating here, plenty with food outlets aplenty. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So, there you have it. A very pleasant experience even though my aircraft ran 90 minutes late. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Time will tell if the retail outlet functions the way it's designed to. I certainly like the light airy interesting building which, in my humble opinion, will give KLIA 1 a run for its money.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">KLIA 2</span></td></tr>
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-59947372691351187672014-05-19T03:12:00.000-07:002014-07-24T00:44:06.983-07:00A Few Days In Malacca<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The morning after the wedding's reception, the alarm decided to relieve me from my sleep. The head was heavy, the half dozen glasses of red wine had seen to that, but I quickly remembered the task at hand for the early morn - find our way to TBS, the relatively new bus station in KL for our trip to Malacca. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Always worried about being on time, my phobia forced us to leave our hotel at 6.30 for an 8 am departure. The trip there involved changing from the LRT to another line, but with no hassles. KL's underground rail system works very well apart from the ticket vending machines that more often than not, don't work. The authorities recently have made an effort to make it easier to transfer from one line to another by improving the walking assess and multi-trip ticketing, far better than the somewhat disjointed arrangement a few years back. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We arrived with plenty of time to spare and waited for our host and daughter. This station, I must say, is nothing like your average bus station. It's large, very modern and most importantly for me, clean. Only a few years old, it mostly replaces a facility in Chinatown for those travelling south in the country. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The Transnational bus arrived on time. I sat with Lili and Poh with her daughter Karin across the aisle. Word of warning here. Never sit between good friends as you spend the time being talked across, it feels a lot like playing piggy in the middle. I jest, of course, it was not really a problem and made the 2.5 hour trip fly by, even if both ears are still ringing. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LiLi and Poh</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Malacca lies on the West coast of Peninsular Malaysia roughly half way between KL and Singapore. It has a long, interesting and varied history. </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">This is not immediately apparent, as you bus in; the outer areas have a lot of modern construction, housing as well as business. This leaves an impression of an economically growing vibrant city. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I have previously been here a number of years before, but recognised very little at first. I was told a lot of people investing here are from Singapore and Kuala Lumpur. Tourists abound, so there is a very significant major hotel presence, very grand for a city of this size. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">We arrived at 1030 and were picked up by Poh's niece, Joyce and taken to a small Chinese restaurant on the side of the road near the coast. The very congenial owner greeted us with a broad smile and after much chatter in Chinese, a course of food was decided on. I'll admit now on most occasions I allow my wife to decide what to eat. If it was left up to me, I'd eat the same old boring stuff every day. I am not that adventurous when it comes to trying new food, but when forced to, I usually enjoy the experience. This was no exception. The food, apart from being inexpensive was of high quality. The ambiance of the surroundings and the owner's </span>ancestry's<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> looking forlornly down upon the diners added to the culinary experience.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">Our hosts live about 10 kilometres north of the city centre along a road full of old abandoned mansions and multi-storey high rise. I fear the old buildings with their large grounds will in time, create a great wall of towering condominiums. They are too much to maintain for the average private owner and are only saved from demolition, if business is interested in utilising the size for commerce. Some of the local banks have done just that in the centre of the city, but unfortunately there are more mansions than interested parties.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Poh and her families' houses are just a street back from the sea. The ambiance of the area is one of peace and quiet; only the occasional dog barking intruded, no cacophony here. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">After meeting the family and a quick shower, we ventured first to a coffee shop to try the local brew and watch 'kaya' being made. ( a coconut, sugar and egg yolk spread ) The golden brown treacly substance is smeared onto a piece of toasted bread or bun and served with local black coffee. We watched it being made in a back room. Two ladies sitting over a metal stewing pot, the ingredients heated over a low gas flame and stirred for 3 hours to get the right consistency. It is very sweet, fattening but scrumptious. After a short walk to view the straits and its shipping, we ventured back into town.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Half way there, the traffic started to grind to a halt and it soon became apparent this was no ordinary jam. As we crawled along at walking pace a long line of parked and par king cars snaked for a hundred metres or more in front of us. The reason, you ask? The world famous ( for this place at least ) Klebang coconut milk shake. Yes, the world here was grinding to a stand still for a milkshake. I don't know about you, but for me to line up dozens deep, it would have to be something very special. I was to learn later that Malacca inhabitants won't give another thought to waiting in a long queue for an indeterminate amount of time to get into their favourite chicken and rice ball or satay celup restaurant. Nothing like good food to create your routine and habits. </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">We did some general sightseeing and shopping, then returned for the evening Mother's Day dinner.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Malacca is steeped in history. Going back 500 years, it was a strategic outpost, one of three ( the others being Singapore and Penang) due to its location on the Straits of Malacca. It controlled trade that passed through the very narrow waters between Malaya and Sumatra. This all changed in 1511 when the Portuguese arrived and overthrew the local Sultan. The European presence in the region was increasing due to the spice trade which led to increased colonisation of the region. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The Portuguese built A Famosa ( fort, only the front gate exists today ) and remained for about 130 years with limited success as traders until the Dutch in cahoots with the Sultan of Johore replaced them, though even today there is still an enclave of Portuguese descendants.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">"Red" centre of town</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The Dutch for their part built the " Red Stadthuys" administration centre of town that can be still be seen today though these days, it consists of museums and various </span>churches<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">.</span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Wikipedia History of Malacca </span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Eventually 180 years later, the British replaced the Dutch, who had agreed to accept some land in Java in exchange. There they remained until independence in 1957. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The eclectic blend of European and Asian buildings makes Malacca the interesting place it is. The old part of town has very narrow honeycomb streets that were never designed to cater for motor vehicles. Most are one way and frequent traffic jams are common. There is a mixture of trendy modern business with traditional Chinese family homes. The old buildings are generally narrow, deep terraces with roofs made of rows of unique corrugated clay red tiles. In the oldest buildings, the original plain dutch facades are hard to find being replaced later by Classical, Chinese and Malay additions. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8yPgOag95BYRPvBHU7Odr4XaEJ2wG-OMqjV-qpbF9CB0UN4VQUjW2j4khV_MjlnT_CZMI3UIWcRsUW63SwwqtOiqKv1cq2S-S6KuRolCMCi-sagkmLBdGVQGm1CPNGckA4yDoePybriE/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8yPgOag95BYRPvBHU7Odr4XaEJ2wG-OMqjV-qpbF9CB0UN4VQUjW2j4khV_MjlnT_CZMI3UIWcRsUW63SwwqtOiqKv1cq2S-S6KuRolCMCi-sagkmLBdGVQGm1CPNGckA4yDoePybriE/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Unique designed Mosque</span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The town has many churches, temples and mosques - all interesting in their own way and its diverse inhabitants complement the feeling of something unique.</span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfAGyExSxM0vTQ3Bn9-xkKrTA3I3yzS2CuF-TH_zkm9ZhPNg2kYaO5bA2ddtXAD6GgpsBb55SoLe3rcwja5CIHIWRUc39YwZ3p1hupMEYw58k5hltjP8cUe2kjG1gHtNuCxYxt7Sl7je-/s1600/800px-Stad_en_Kasteel_Malacca.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfAGyExSxM0vTQ3Bn9-xkKrTA3I3yzS2CuF-TH_zkm9ZhPNg2kYaO5bA2ddtXAD6GgpsBb55SoLe3rcwja5CIHIWRUc39YwZ3p1hupMEYw58k5hltjP8cUe2kjG1gHtNuCxYxt7Sl7je-/s1600/800px-Stad_en_Kasteel_Malacca.jpg" height="338" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">The old Portuguese Fort encompassing St Paul's church - Wikipedia </span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The evenings meal was in part prepared by the adult children of the family to show appreciation for their mothers' efforts. Most of the children live and work in other parts of the country or overseas and made the effort to be there for their mothers as well as for the Vesak day celebrations, the Buddha’s birthday. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We were asked if we would like to walk in their annual parade the next evening and accepted the invitation without question. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">The proud Mothers</span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The following morning saw us exploring the old St Paul’s Church on top of a small steep hill in the historical centre. Upon ascent, you are greeted by St Francis Xavier himself in all his marble glory. ( he was interned here for a short period of time after his death). Built by the Portuguese early on in its occupation for its Catholic population, only the outer walls and Apse of the church are now intact. The interior walls support many tomb stones of the local Dutch and Portuguese dating from the 16th century, but unfortunately for me, not in English. The Dutch converted it to Dutch Reformed where it remained as a place of worship until Christ Church was completed in 1753 in the Stadthuys. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">After investigating the tombstones behind the church from the English period, we ventured down to the remains of the Old Portuguese fort. Not a lot to see but interesting all the same. My attention was distracted by a group of people using what I could only describe as a golf shaft-cum-telescopic rod with a frame to hold a telephone on, so one could, by stretching the arm and rod away from the body, take the perfect self-indulging selfie. Really, I could think of better ways of taking photos without looking ridiculous. Anyway each to their own. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The old fort that was unceremoniously blown up by the British is continuously being rediscovered, the foundations at least, each time they excavate old car parks and building lots. Some of these areas are quite a distance from the remaining gate meaning this must have been an impressive structure in its time; at one stage it housed the entire Portuguese population in Malacca. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">That afternoon we prepared for the Vesak precession. The participants wear all white, so that proved a challenge to find a clothing combination that came close. My wife and I had a slightly offbeat look, but came close to looking the part.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We drove to Poh's uncle's place to collect a bus with 40 other devotees that took us to the site to assemble. Due to anticipated traffic issues, we left early and arrived with plenty of time to spare. In fact, time to try out the famous local celup satays.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The dining tables are round with a circular metal container sunk into the centre. This pot contains a mixture of what looks like peanut sauce and oil. Underneath the table is a gas flame to keep the contents simmering. </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">The idea is to go to a large bank of refrigerators and choose from an assortment of skewers with either chicken, pork products, seafood or various vegetables. The food is then placed into the boiling sauce and cooked. Occasionally, the staff add more sauce into the mixture and gives it a stir. The smell of peanuts permeates through out the premises. Simple, effective and delicious and when finished, the waiting staff just tallies up the empty skewers left and you pay for what you eat. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">After dinner, we all looked forward to our impending walk. With 42 floats in the parade, we were assigned to number 19. I assumed for some unknown reason this was just going to be a jaunt around the block. How wrong I was. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLBPJYtwvFO7-8IT4BZCGuqZD5SolmkSGrWqU2tEX0mamSKkywDjlrehtXTYSizItp-ckwap1cJmXoYy4yJXYmQUou-NPrCR2rQu6WEvczkDB_A4euMXKMoaEdfmuPB1v54Kl_x34lYzVn/s1600/photo+7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLBPJYtwvFO7-8IT4BZCGuqZD5SolmkSGrWqU2tEX0mamSKkywDjlrehtXTYSizItp-ckwap1cJmXoYy4yJXYmQUou-NPrCR2rQu6WEvczkDB_A4euMXKMoaEdfmuPB1v54Kl_x34lYzVn/s1600/photo+7.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Beginning of the Vesak Parade</span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The night was hot and sultry. I was sweating profusely before we even began. The start was slow due to the sheer number of people involved. I won't attempt to estimate the numbers, but it would have been in the thousands. This stop start affair meandered through the older sectors of town with large numbers of people lining both sides of the streets to pay their respects to the Buddha. Small gifts were handed out to the crowd with children being the main beneficiaries. Almost all were of Chinese descent apart from a small sprinkling of overseas tourists. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The walk lasted two and a half hours and all of us were foot weary by the end, the atmosphere - the sounds and sights and the sense of community made it a fulfilling and tranquil experience. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRpsPuhjhB05GTw_TR8sSJA_LG6-1utLgbhwsaqMoRYYBmDcf0lK0i8qIT4TIRPYxqnXUNlciTwtNEkY73WDscW1KvdxMQbn0QueGbovZbXkoSmApneWfQ4_5-pzrdWqbKqyVm-ylrjcdG/s1600/photo+6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRpsPuhjhB05GTw_TR8sSJA_LG6-1utLgbhwsaqMoRYYBmDcf0lK0i8qIT4TIRPYxqnXUNlciTwtNEkY73WDscW1KvdxMQbn0QueGbovZbXkoSmApneWfQ4_5-pzrdWqbKqyVm-ylrjcdG/s1600/photo+6.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">One of the numerous floats</span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The last full day in Malacca was spend eating and talking with our new found friends. One last surprise awaited me though. An evening meal was arranged in a popular open air restaurant. Our group who had been doing a little last minute window shopping were the last to arrive. And there on the table in front of me was, to my utter surprise, a Klebang coconut milkshake. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Everyone, by this stage, had heard I would not get into a line up for a milkshake, but someone made the effort for me. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This simple gesture typifies the great hospitality and generosity shown to us for the few days we were in Malacca. I extent my deep gratitude to Poh and her family members who went out of their way to make our experience an exceptional one. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The next morning we bused it to the new KLIA2 terminal (another post</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px; text-decoration: underline;">)</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"> and returned to Sandakan. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Is that milkshake worth lining up for, you ask? </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">All I'll say is go to Malacca to find out.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBz6WXDxFRiXEoHjTDlnxJgsCTVe3_6mmDAgOc7ncgJVpPStYvqxvPVMe_cgdN3v9a23l4SbMH08Hcau3AU05ue68Hczf16KJszhkTIyLjpbL9O6pkzH0DNyNWQUrk3yKqpmXpIHDiVoR7/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBz6WXDxFRiXEoHjTDlnxJgsCTVe3_6mmDAgOc7ncgJVpPStYvqxvPVMe_cgdN3v9a23l4SbMH08Hcau3AU05ue68Hczf16KJszhkTIyLjpbL9O6pkzH0DNyNWQUrk3yKqpmXpIHDiVoR7/s1600/photo.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">The famous milkshake </span></td></tr>
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-58385178849331591142014-05-08T07:26:00.001-07:002014-07-26T17:00:02.991-07:00Mid Flight Blues<div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Travelling again! Flying to Kl for a wedding, an Indian at that. The flights only a tad less than three hours but boredom has set in one hour in. Eaten, the lights have been dimmed the plane 45 minutes late. I find these days in this sort of aircraft I just want to get there. My wife has the right idea. She is asleep with her head leaning up against the bulk head. I find sleeping in a plane a pain in the neck literally. I can't get comfortable even though this time the seat next to us is empty. The light meal devoured in my usual last meal manner, even gives me indigestion. I am becoming an old crock, set in my way, legs in harding concrete boots. The flame of adventure is barely a flicker these days. A comfortable hotel with good bed and air conditioning will suffice. I study my wife's face looking angelic, had a very busy week with a conference and has died in her seat. Metaphorically of course, as if death was so peaceful looking. ( I know, I used to work in the dying business) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The plane rocks a little to remind us we are still 30,000 feet up. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I have noticed something a little different this flight - no screaming kids. What a joy to behold, a quiet aircraft. I like when I can organise a seat near the exit or bulkhead for extra leg room. The only disadvantage, you're on to it, crying babies. As they say beggars can't be choosers and they're right. It's swings and roundabouts really, you win some you lose some. ( I'm only writing like this because my wife is always asking me to recite idioms and I can never remember any at the time.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Looked out the window, sun about to disappear, lots of fluffy cotton balls as far as the eyes can see. Looks good enough to step out on, but I'm not going to this flight. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Opps the silence has been broken by a rather large man snoring. Always a problem when you sleep with 140 others.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This little writing exercise is doing its job. Just wasted 20 minutes thinking about rubbish to write about. Talking about rubbish I am told by those close to me I use that term far too often. Everything I see or do is rubbish. I personally only use it if it is, well.... rubbish. I don't like the alternative, garbage because it's just too American. Give me good old English rubbish any day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">That was a load of rubbish, wasn't it. I can be more creative than that but unfortunately I don't have the ability to turn it on like a tap of water. It's more like the rain, it comes and goes. Here today, gone tomorrow. There I go again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The plane has decided to decelerate and drop its nose. Must be getting close to where ever I'm going. So there you have it 500 words of pure nonsense. Goodnight. ( 501) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-38537168382415192002014-04-30T19:03:00.000-07:002014-07-24T00:45:47.807-07:00The Twin Otter and Me<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Organising a trip at short notice can sometimes create unexpected outcomes. This week I found out I was travelling to Kota Kinabalu again, so as usual I book myself a flight online with MAS wings, the local subsidiary of Malaysian airlines.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Because it was so late, I found that the only available flight departed at 11.40 am from Sandakan and it was rather inexpensive. "Hmmm why so," I thought to myself. I noticed almost immediately the flight took over 2 hours. Usually it varies between 45 and 50 minutes depending on the aircraft type. Obviously a stop along the way, though it wasn't indicated on the booking page. I was not in a hurry, the extra hours flight time didn't concern me, so proceeded to book. Seat 4C came up upon completion. (I had not bothered to preselect my own seat.) I assumed I was on the aisle. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Being the curious beast I am, I searched for the aircraft type expecting it to be the usual ATR 72 500, a twin turbo prop French/Italian built plane that carries 68 passengers. I have flown on this aircraft numerous times and found it comfortable enough though a little noisy.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">To my surprise, it wasn't. This flight was going via Kudat on the northern most point of Borneo in a much smaller, Twin Otter DHC-6 400 series.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Really flying I thought to myself. These aircraft have a fixed undercarriage and are unpressurised. Meaning to say they can't fly very high, so in theory lots more to see. The downside, of course, is that they must fly through more weather. They can fly around, not over the numerous thunderstorms in this region. Since the plane can only accommodate 3 seats across, my 4C was in actual fact a window seat. "Great!" I thought. I used to fly small aircraft myself ( Cessna 172 and Grumman Cheetah ) in what seems another lifetime ago and consequently started to really look forward to this trip.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Twin Otter 400</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Further investigation dampened my enthusiasm somewhat.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Mas Wings has had 4 accidents since 2008, all involving the Twin Otter (previous series) with the last one at Kudat air-field killing 2 including the co- pilot. It appeared from the reports I read all involved pilot error and occurred during landing. My wife immediately told me not to go. "Lightning couldn't possibly strike twice, could it?" flashed through my head. Anyway, it guaranteed this flight wasn't going to be boring. And it wasn't.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The flight was scheduled to depart during the quiet part of the day. Sandakan airport is no KLIA, so after the early morning flights, there is virtually no one around. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I had checked in online but was concerned about whether I could take my backpack on board. I went to the checking counter and to my surprise, they wanted to weigh me! I had to stand up onto where they weigh the bags on the conveyor belt, much to the amusement of a group of Australians and British. They too went through the process and started to chatter to each other, a little nervously after being told the plane was small and that weight was critical. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Through customs and into departure hall, empty apart from the 19 passengers for flight MH3005. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Time for departure arrived, on schedule and proceeded to march over the tarmac to the aircraft. It looked very new which was comforting, the refurbishment programme between the 300 series and the newer 400 was obviously well underway. Maybe because of the previous years' mishaps, they were running out of aircraft. Anyway, any doubts about the viability of the aircraft were now dispelled in my mind. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">For those who haven't flown in smaller prop aircraft, there are a number of differences immediately apparent. The Twin Otter carries its own set of stairs forming part of the fuselage which are lowered by two cables at the rear of the aircraft. I painfully discovered the door well is not very high. My head came in contact with the top of the door frame even though I'm not a tall man. The interior is less than 5 feet in height, so you have to bend down appreciably as you walk along the short aisle. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Though I had a designated seat number I was told by one of the ground crew to sit anywhere I felt. First come, first serve. How refreshing! No such luxury of air hotties on this flight. As it turned out, I chose the same seat next to the window under the wing. The seats themselves a very rudimentary, light frame with minimal padding. Only just ok for a short flight with a bad back and arthritic knees.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The small interior brings you close to all the occupants, therefore the plane was full of banter, nervous laughter and we quickly introduced each other. Most were holiday travellers with I think one local who was flying home. Almost all the occupants had never flown in such a small plane before and were looking forward to the adventure, some with more than a little </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">apprehension on their faces.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Cockpit door wide open to let in some air </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The first thing you</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"> notice when the engines are turned on is the level of interior sound. It's noisy, still possible to talk, but with my hearing, I find it difficult. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The runway in Sandakan is over 2000 metres, so the 'Otter' had little difficulty in getting airborne in well less than half the length. The throttle is above the pilots head like sea planes and for some reason required the use of both pilots' hands. There was no door separating the pilots from the passengers and I had an excellent view of the GPS map in the centre of the cockpit showing our route.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The sudden lifting into the air and the rapid rate of ascend surprise most on board. I think it was more perceived than real, being a small plane. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It's worth noting that most people have never flown in small aircraft, so the sensation of flying is very different than in a larger heavier plane. Weather affects smaller aircraft a lot more. They move around more in the air currents and tend to give the feeling of floating and drifting along. The best way I can describe it is that feeling you get on a large Ferris wheel just before and after reaching the highest point except you have to add the lateral movement. It's all a bit dreamy, like floating on cloud, or after having a few vodka and tonics, if you enjoy that sort of thing. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The flight turned left after a few minutes and travelled north west along the east coast. The weather was clear and because of the lower altitude, you could see a lot more detail. To the east many small islands dotted the sea, some in Malaysia, those further out the Philippines. Rivers large and small, fill the land like a meandering network of roads which of course they are to the local Sungai. The banks are predominately mangrove until they give away to firmer ground inland, then the manmade transformation of the land becomes evident. Oil Palm dominates all that is not mangrove nor mountain and what jungle left is mainly secondary growth from the logging days. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Midway through the flight to Kudat, the passengers had relaxed and everyone on the plane was enjoying conversing to each other by yelling above the engine din. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I found myself constantly looking at the pilots doing their thing. The captain in particular was a little fidgety, unable to keep his hands of the throttle as if it wasn't set right. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As we approached Kudat, everyone peered out looking for the runway. It was spotted early but disregarded for being too short. It wasn't until final approach that it became obvious that we were going to land on what looked every bit a paved footpath. I'm sure there're shorter runways in the world but from the air, this one looked woefully inadequate. Images of the previous years' fatal accident did cross my mind, but after all this was a short takeoff and landing aircraft. Two or three of the other passengers were not quite so reassured. The descend was steep and because we couldn't see out the front at this stage, one of the women screamed out, "We're going to land in the swamp," at the top of her voice. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Needless to say, we didn't. It wasn't a copybook landing though. We did bounce and float down the runway a tad. The roar of the engines peaked as the props were put into negative pitch to pull us up. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Smiles returned to all and 17 of the 19 passengers disembarked. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Myself and one other were going onto KK. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me trying to look intelligent. Notice the stairs.</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It wasn't long before we were left to our own devices. The plane got very hot on the tarmac, so we jumped out and wandered around the aircraft taking photos of each other. No one seem to care, in fact there was no one there to care except us. Everyone else had disappeared into the green nondescript terminal building.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Green House. Notice Air traffic Control Tower</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This wouldn't happen in too many airports around the world.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Twenty minutes passed and the flight crew returned to the aircraft.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This runway is only 700 metres long less than a third of Sandakan's.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The aircraft taxied to the end of the runway, lined up and gunned the engines with the brakes on. After what seemed an eternity they were released and we screamed down the tarmac and was airborne in no time. The lack of passengers helped whereas a full plane must use every last inche.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The 40 minute flight flew south along Sabah's west coast. I couldn't help but feel a little privileged having the aircraft to myself bar one. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The flight was enjoyable and I looked out the window for most of it. This part of the west coast is much more built up with numerous small and medium towns to observe along the way. We did encounter a few thunderstorm cells but easily flew around them. The site of Kota Kinabalu's long runway was very reassuring. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The total travel time was a touch over two hours. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Would I do it again? The short answer is yes if time is not an issue. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I have flown a lot over the past decade and have to a certain extent become jaded with air travel. The little Twin Otter brought back memories of the first time I flew all those years ago. Not quite flying by the seat of your pants, but close. </span></span></div>
Spinayarnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02707009728991601684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9118309872176067300.post-8924575507441956462014-04-25T04:55:00.001-07:002014-07-24T00:46:17.309-07:00A Tale of Two Cities in Malaysia<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Chance would have it I am spending a few days in Kota Kinabalu this week with my wive who, has some Dept of Education business to do in the Capital. As I linger around the hotel, this has given me the opportunity to reflect on the stark differences between this place and the second largest city in Sabah and former capital where I live - Sandakan. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Both cities started their life roughly the same time nearing the end of the 19th century. Sandakan flourished quickly due to its deep harbour and access to natural resources such as rainforest hard wood. In fact it is said there were more millionaires at that time living in Sandakan than anywhere else in Asia and the wealth of the area meant it had a wire service to London and paved roads even before Hong Kong and Singapore.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Kota Kinabalu or Jesselton as it was known then, developed less spectacularly as a trading post in rubber, rattan, honey and wax. Both places were run by the British North Borneo Company in the colony known as North Borneo. </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">World War 2 and the Japanese occupation saw both towns almost completely destroyed. By the war's end, the North Borneo company handed over the colony to the British who in turn moved the Capital to Jesselton. I</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">ndependence in the early 1960’s Jesselton got its new name and maintained its status as the state's capital.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the lookout, Kota Kinabalu</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So what's changed in the last 60 years? In short, a lot.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Sabah is the poorest state of the 13 states of the Malaysian federation despite supplying 30% of Malaysian's palm oil and large reserves of hydrocarbons. There are numerous reasons for this, which I won't go into here.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The rebuilding started soon after the war where the centre of both cities developed slowly replacing the mostly wooden structures that had been destroyed during the war into concrete shutter shops. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A lot of Kota Kinabalu's commercial centre was built on reclaimed land from the sea and being the capital of the New State of Sabah, it developed with better quality and more extensive infrastructure. Most of Sabah's commerce is conducted here to the long term detriment of Sandakan.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Moving forward to the present. Kota Kinabalu is a vibrant and cosmopolitan city with a population around the half million mark. It is the only place you can arrive in the state from overseas therefore a bulk of the tourist trade stay in the local area. Mount Kinabalu is only a 2-hour drive and there are many beaches and islands with world class facilities.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Sandakan, on the other hand, is much more limited. They do have some islands off the coast but these generally have received mixed reviews due to management issues. If tourists do venture to this part of the East coast, it's for the orang utan sanctuary in Sepilok, 30 kilometres west of Sandakan or the Kinabatangan River. There is accommodation in both these places, so many visitors never reach Sandakan proper.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Where Kota Kinabalu is vibrant Sandakan is not. The population is a little less than KK but the town lacks sophistication in its makeup and infrastructure. The centre of KK has street appeal and variety whereas Sandakan is drab and predictable. Basic services, the Internet, electricity and water break down on a frequent basis. A lot of this of course is to do with wealth. Sandakan is a poor place. A large proportion of the town's population are illegal immigrants. Unofficial figures estimate the illegals as high as 600,000 within Sabah. The Philippines and Indonesia are very close and due to historical reasons the borders are extremely porous. These people have taken over the old centre of the city and the immediate surrounding area and consequently there is little desire for developers to spend their money, so the area is in a gradual state of decay. ( in some cases not so gradual) Developers in general have concentrated their efforts in establishing new infrastructure projects in the outlying suburban areas. This gives the overall impression of a disjoined city looking for its lost past. Having said all this there are plans afoot to establish a new centre 3 kilometres along the coast in an area called Sim Sim, though this does not solve the issue with the old town centre.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Traffic is a problem in both cities, but the quality of roads are much higher in KK. The national highway between Sandakan and KK is a potholed mess, consequently a 300 kilometre journey takes up to 6 hours. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">In general, cleanliness is better in KK. Litter and garbage disposal is a problem in both, but Sandakan is a far dirtier place. The rat population is enormous due to inefficient collection of refuse and the dumping of cooking waste down the open drains that flow directly into the sea. This is not to say there are not people here that are concerned about the state of the environment and try hard to make an impact, but in generally they are overwhelmed by the enormity of the problem. KK does a far better job at maintaining the immediate environment though litter in the surrounding sea continues to be an issue. </span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Having choices is what most people want. KK wins hands down in that criteria. The restaurants and cafes cater for a more diverse segment of society. If you look hard enough you can find food and beverages that will please most. Sandakan at best has only a handful of places that would come close to catering for a discerning connoisseur. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So, there you have it my impressions of the two. The crown for most liveable place is firmly on the head of KK city. Sandakan’s glory days of the early 20th century are well and truly gone, but who knows the Phoenix may in one day rise from the ashes again. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Historical Sandakan before and after World War 2</td></tr>
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