currystrumpet

Tangerine in my travels

2012-01-26T19:54:00.002+01:00

Tangerine Tango won't let me go just yet, it seems. While looking through my archives for photos of my tangerine accessories (featured in my previous post), I found a few striking images from my travels that feature Pantone's Color of the Year for 2012.

Syringe painting by Fernando Zobel at the Singapore Art Museum

Another work by a Filipino artist (I forget who) at the Singapore Art Museum

At the Keukenhof Gardens in Lisse, Holland

"Dikke Dames" (Fat Ladies) porcelain figures at a gallery in the Jordaan

Praia da Rocha in the Algarve, Portugal

In the Old Town of Lagos, Portugal

"Red and White" by Edvard Much, at the Munch Museum in Oslo

I needed a bit of a boost today, and looking at these gave images (these colors!) gave me just the pick-me-up I needed to get through the gray. So I'm sharing these bits of zing and zest, and hope they brighten your day too.

Tangerine tango

2012-01-25T18:31:00.002+01:00

Pantone has announced that its Color of the Year for 2012 is Tangerine Tango. I don't know how they decide these things, but consider me on board!

I never liked orange, but my attitude towards the color was transformed with the acquisition of my beloved Balenciaga Arena Covered City bag a few months before I left Singapore in 2010. I've come to realize how many tangerine accessories I've picked up since then. I acquired most of my orange faves last year, making tangerine something of a personal Color of the Year for 2011.

Clockwise from top left: big plastic beads from Les Puces de St-Ouen in Paris; leather cuff from the Ortakoy Sunday market in Istanbul; T'boli tribal beaded necklace, a find of my Mom's from the Salcedo market in Makati; and of course, my beloved Balenciaga bag (which has since met an unfortunate accident at the evil black end of a Sharpie. Oh, my heart!).

Not quite tangerine, but somewhere in the neighboring vicinity (mandarin, perhaps?), is one of my more... adventurous accessories. I give you the detachable collar, as seen on Man Repeller.

Between tangerine and mandarin, collar and cuff, bag and beads, I guess this makes me pretty much covered for 2012!

MangoJuiced: Style steals from an Istanbul apartment

2012-01-24T11:31:00.000+01:00

I stayed in this Istanbul apartment last October—and I loved it so much, I "stole" something to take home with me. Can you guess what it is?

Go style stealing with me in this week's post on MangoJuiced. And leave a comment to congratulate me on my newfound sewing skills. Consider that your hint!

MangoJuiced is a webzine for anything and everything that interests women—from fashion and family, to pop culture and beauty, to travel and lifestyle. Follow MangoJuiced on Twitter and Facebook... and don't forget to check back in for a new post from me every week!

Doing the Twist

2012-01-19T21:22:00.002+01:00

I first discovered The Twist on Pinterest. I thought it was cute, neat and perfect for those days when I just don't want to deal with my bangs. And the tutorial on Youtube was easy to follow.

Then I went home to Manila for Christmas. My bangs shriveled up on the first day and simply refused to uncurl. Boy, I'd forgotten about that humidity. It would have been a bad hair day every single day for three weeks if not for The Twist.

Although I know my forehead is too wide to be exposed to the world on a daily basis (a guy I know once told me pilots could land planes on it), I lived in The Twist every day of my stay in the Philippines. The Twist helped me face the world with confidence!

Now, one of my favorite fashion sites, Refinery29, has dubbed The Twist "2012's hottest 'do." So I'm sharing the tutorial here for those who want to get in on the trend (or are just sick of what Manila's humidity is doing to your bangs). Let's do The Twist!

P.S. In case you're curious about what else I've been pinning, you can follow me on Pinterest!

His & hers

2012-01-18T10:58:00.002+01:00

You know you're getting old when you start giving and getting appliances for Christmas.

This is a little late, but we only opened Christmas gifts when we got back to Amsterdam early this month. So... yes! Marlon's Christmas gift to me was a sewing machine. And yes, I sew! Or at least I've started learning to.

I signed up for a weekly sewing class in September last year, and I really enjoy it. I'm a complete beginner—I've never made anything on a sewing machine in my life—but I've managed to produce one dress and a heap of cushion covers. My teacher is this beautiful Portuguese power granny who is the sweetest lady ever, and has made learning so much fun. I'm looking forward to expanding my sewing skills this year, and this gift is perfect for that!

For my gift to Marlon, I decided to surprise him with something he's been lusting after for quite a while now—a Nespresso machine. We had one in our temporary apartment when we first moved here (a full year ago, how time flies!) and we both enjoyed using it, especially Marlon.

Too bad it was a complete FAIL in the surprise department. The day we left for Manila, I made this big production of making Marlon stay in another room while I wrapped the Nespresso machine. Then I hid it behind the armchair in the living room. But I was so harassed that day, I actually left the empty paper bag with the giant Nespresso logo on it right in the middle of the living room... and forgot all about it!

Nice guy that he is, Marlon didn't let on that he knew what my gift was until Christmas. Boy, did I feel like a huge dolt. But he loves it and uses it every day. If he's happy, then I'm happy too!

New year, new pages

2012-01-17T10:31:00.004+01:00

Last fall, I enrolled in Blogging Your Way, a blogging e-course by Holly Becker of Decor8 and Leslie Shewring of A Creative Mint. The four-week course was packed with information and inspiration; months later I'm still digesting everything! It sparked ideas for new projects, new directions and even a new blog (stay tuned!), but also made me think about this old blog in a new way.

When I started blogging seven years ago, the blogosphere was very different. A blog was an online journal, a diary. If you had a lot to rant about in real life, your blog would be full of rants. If you had nothing going on in your life, your blog would be full of meaningless blather. The average blogger didn't give much thought to presentation and promotion back then. It was always about what you had to say.

Things have changed. Today, blogs are carefully curated, prepared, promoted—ironically enough, whether or not you even create your own original content. There are simply things you need to do, that I hadn't been doing. Some things make perfect sense to me; other things, like reblogging and reposting, just... don't (yet).

So consider this a bit of housekeeping that's been long overdue. I've put some new things in place, first of which is the About page. Even if you've been reading my blog for a long time and feel you know me pretty well, read it anyway! You just might find out a few things you don't already know about me. Like what the heck a Currystrumpet is, for example.

It was hard to write an About page for myself! To describe myself as a "lifestyle" blog or a "travel" blog would have been very neat and handy, but I don't think I quite fit into either of those categories. Still, I've written something I'm happy with, and that I think sums up me and my blog pretty well. Holler if you agree!

It was fun choosing a picture. This was taken shortly after my 30th birthday, in Istanbul. Our host Suzan had this gorgeous traditional Maltese balcony with a leather wing chair that just screamed to be posed in.

The second new addition is the Welcome note on the right-hand column, essentially a shorter version of the About page. Below it, you'll now find links to my Twitter and Pinterest accounts. Follow away!

Finally, I've organized my Blogroll and moved it to a separate page. I've realized that I have a) so many fun and interesting friends who blog, and b) great blogs that I've discovered but kept to myself. So starting this January, I will feature one blog per month from my Blogroll as my "blog of the month." Just sharing the love, y'all.

Do you like the new About page and the "blog of the month" idea? What kind of things do you want to see more of on this blog in the New Year? Hit the comments and let me know.

Number one fan

2012-01-16T12:16:00.005+01:00

Everyone needs a number one fan.

The Ateneo College Glee Club already had its own when I joined it as a freshman in 1999. His name was Dr. Fernando Hofileña, M.D. To us, and the generations of Glee Club members who knew him, he was simply Doc Hof.

Doc was a tenor in the Glee Club during the 1950s, when it was still an all-male choir. He stayed on to become its tireless cheerleader, mentor, guide, morale booster and its number one fan.

You couldn't be in the Glee Club and not know him. Your identity as a card-carrying member of the Glee Club was not valid until you had seen him strolling in his stately pace with his trusty umbrella along Katipunan; until you'd been stopped by him in the hall and held by the arm for a long chat (often, just as you were dashing to class or to rehearsal); until you had heard him speak in superlatives of the group you belonged to.

Everyone has their favorite Doc Hof story. Mine is the time when, after a particularly disastrous rehearsal, our conductor launched into a cutting sermon that left our confidence in shreds (as conductors will often do).

At the end of Sir Joel's tirade, Doc walked into the rehearsal room beaming, bringing his hands together in slow, emphatic applause. "Incandescent!" he declared beatifically.

Well, nobody could stay angry or tired after that.

My other favorite Doc Hof story is how he, as an octogenarian, was hit by a truck while walking home in Loyola Heights. We were all horrified when we heard. Oh, no, not to worry—he was okay, he said. He simply got up, dusted himself off and walked home. After getting hit by a truck. True story.

Doc Hof's unconditional love and support was constant even in the toughest times—when we sounded anything but incandescent. I was president during a difficult time in the Glee Club: we changed conductors twice in one year; we were on our own after a dramatic break from our alumni members; the makeup of the group shifted suddenly towards young, inexperienced singers. After our hard-earned triumphs in Europe, listeners expected a seasoned, winning sound that the "new" Glee Club simply didn't have and couldn't rush no matter how bad we wanted to.

During that transitional period, I heard many things from many people—but not a single thing from Doc. Making difficult decisions for the group was nerve-wracking and we officers could never be sure we were doing the right thing. In those times, Doc Hof's quiet kindness was a gift. His constant presence was reassuring. His unshakeable faith in us, that we would endure and flourish, was a soothing balm. He simply knew that we would make it, even if I wasn't sure we would.

Doc was so in love with the Glee Club, it was all he ever talked to us about. He never said much about himself. We were all stunned to learn about his achievements when he was awarded the Lux-In-Domino Award by Ateneo in 2008.

Here was a man who, when World War II broke out, stopped med school to return to his province of Negros to help his father, then the Mayor of the town of Silay. After fleeing with his family and townspeople to the mountains, he joined the Resistance against the Japanese and became acting Mayor at the age of 22.

After the war, he became a Fulbright scholar and studied pediatrics and child psychiatry in New York, Philadelphia and Pittsburgh. He came home to become the pediatrician and clinic head for the very first school for special education in the Philippines—now the Cupertino Center for Special Children in Loyola Grand Villas. I could go on and on, but you can read more about Doc's remarkable life here.

He loved music, theater, debate. If you had ever talked to him, you would realize how much he exemplified a bygone era—one where people were kinder, greater, more genteel, more noble. Now that Doc is gone, I'm hard-pressed to think of anyone whom I could accurately describe as genteel or noble. Now I feel like his era has passed with his passing.

Everyone needs a number one fan. That a man as accomplished and remarkable as Doc Hof could be humble enough to be ours—so unabashedly, so unconditionally—was a gift beyond our deserving.

Doc was laid to his eternal rest today. Though it was always an honor and a pleasure to sing for him, I believe that we were only the opening act to what awaits him. I can only imagine what beautiful music must have been prepared to welcome him. I can only imagine his face when he hears it.

Dear Doc, rest well and enjoy the music. We love you and we will miss you.

MangoJuiced: Read it and weave

2012-01-13T12:04:00.000+01:00

I've been searching for something graphic, bright and fun to perk up our mostly neutral living room. Turns out all I had to do was look homeward for that much-needed pop of color and burst of pattern. Incidentally, it seems the Department of Tourism shared the same train of thought.

Yup, I'm talking about banig.

This homegrown classic—matting woven together from strips of dried palm leaves—was a wistful note on my wish list of home accents this year. A quick trip to SM Kultura satisfied my craving for weaving. Side note: you know you've been living abroad for a long time when you realize that you've become the target market of stores like SM Kultura.

Find out how I rediscovered banig, and check out some of my banig buys in this week's post on MangoJuiced!

MangoJuiced is a webzine for anything and everything that interests women—from fashion and family, to pop culture and beauty, to travel and lifestyle. Follow MangoJuiced on Twitter and Facebook... and don't forget to check back in for a new post from me every week!

10 things that are more fun in the Philippines

2012-01-08T11:22:00.004+01:00

Inspired by the recently launched Department of Tourism campaign, I looked through two years worth of photos (without the help of Google, all of them are mine) to come up with my own list of things that are more fun in the Philippines. I've put up only 10 here but the possibilities are endless.

Can I just say, this was so much fun to do? Can the Negative Nellies out there please give it a try? It's better for your heart and your wrinkles, I promise. Although may find it difficult if you are devoid of humor—a rather rare and life-threatening condition for a Filipino.

But wait, there's more!

Oh, and here's the one I included in my previous post. This makes it 11, but at least I have the complete set in one post.

Twilight, Salad, Getting Buzzed: taken at the Bohol Bee Farm, Bohol.

Morning Coffee, Exfoliating, Seeing Red: taken on Alona Beach, Panglao, Bohol.

Of course, the tarsier (Treehugging) was also shot in Bohol.

Sunblock: White Beach, Boracay Island, Aklan.

Breaking Dawn: Bantayan, Cebu.

Finding Nemo: snorkeling at the Virgin Island Marine Sanctuary in Bantayan, Cebu.

Christmas: Filinvest Marikina.

The images are yours to use and circulate. Please remember to credit me or my blog when doing so. Go forth and spread the love—and have fun! #ItsMoreFunInThePhilippines

It's more fun in the Philippines

2012-01-08T11:07:00.001+01:00

Vacation's over, and I'm back in Amsterdam!

Marlon welcomed me home with so much love—a handwritten sign at the airport, a sparkling home filled with flowers, and a piping hot lentil soup. As we were catching up over dinner, he asked me if I had seen the new campaign launched by the Department of Tourism last Friday (while I was on the plane). "You have to see it," he said, excited. "It's so good. I want a t-shirt!" After seeing the new tagline, I had to agree with him—and with the concept behind the campaign.

Why do I love it? First, the idea behind it is simple and true. It is more fun in the Philippines. It's why I went home for three weeks instead of staying here to travel around during my first Christmas in Europe. It has that ring of truth that gives good concepts a chance to actually make it out there.

"What differentiates the Philippines from every [other place] in the world... is the Filipino. [It's] his special gift for transforming what is already a beautiful place into an unforgettable special place," Tourism Secretary Mon Jimenez said. "You take two identical islands, put Filipinos in one, it's going to be more fun there."

I completely agree. That other island will also be more chaotic, true, but it will definitely be more fun. We may not be able to do some things well (like, oh... enforcing bus lanes har har har) but we do know how to have a good time—in both the best and the worst of circumstances.

Second, I like the concept of sharing the work of tourism with millions of Filipinos all over the world via social media. It's never been done. That 10-year old WOW Philippines corporate video on Youtube with a paltry 253,000 views? It doesn't count in a world where a sneezing panda can get the attention of 127 million people. So I think this first attempt to play by 21st century rules is an important, and valiant one.

[Jimenez] described the new international slogan as "so deceptively simple" that traditional advertising and marketing people may find the new tag line "a little strange because it is a thought almost drawn from social media…. In a very real sense, it is a very modern 21st century kind of campaign. But it's something Filipinos immediately can get behind, because it's true."

The naysayers who think PhP 5.6 million, or approximately US$ 126,900, is a lot of money for an international media campaign (the advertising agency doesn't just come up with a slogan, people!) have no idea what they're talking about—they need to see the rate cards for placements on TV, radio, print and outdoor advertising, and do the math.

The social media effect is a multiplier that does the work our government can't afford to do. So a concept that makes it easy—and yes, fun—for Filipinos to "take hold of it and make it their own", that sparks our own creativity and humor, is genius. I'm a writer, but I know when something needs more than just writing (or "slogan making" in barangay and high school parlance). So I can also see that more than just writing is what is at work here.

It's a campaign not simply to be impressed by, but to get behind. And that's been missing from previous campaigns, even WOW Philippines, which has become the yardstick by which we Filipinos measure our tourism campaigns. As the Professional Heckler says: just like Anna Dizon, WOW Philippines is WOW Philippines... but what could I, personally, have done with it?

Not much. I always root for foreign friends to visit the Philippines, and I put effort into it. I've been known to send friends emails detailing fares, itineraries, hotel, restaurant and even wedding planning suggestions. But never has something like WOW Philippines figured in any of that. What was I supposed to do, sign my emails with "WOW Philippines"?

But this... well, this is different. It made me immediately think of things that, to me, are more fun in the Philippines. It made me think of jokes to crack and images to use. It made me finally install Photoshop, which I've been telling myself I would do for the last four months. And it made me simply get behind it.

It was easy, and it was fun. In fact it was so easy and fun that I made 10 more of these with my own original photos. But that's for another post!

All images courtesy of Chuvaness, except the last, which is mine. For more on the campaign, click here. Also, insightful reads on the campaign here, here and here. Finally, a helpful how-to for your very own "More Fun In The Philippines" meme here.

Yearender

2012-01-01T11:52:00.016+01:00

What did you do in 2011 that you'd never done before?

LIVED IN EUROPE. (This is the big one!)
Traveled in Europe without having to apply for a visa.
Painted my own walls (in the bedroom and living room).

Picked up furniture off the sidewalk.
Celebrated Queen's Day in Amsterdam.
Used a bicycle to get around.

Learned Dutch.

Found myself in Paris twice in one year.

Joined a running group and worked up to running for 20 minutes straight.
Grew my own herbs.
Had fresh flowers at home every week.

Wore a bathing suit at a park.

Drove a boat.

Started writing my very own blog column!
Volunteered for TEDxAmsterdam.
Went on a hot-air balloon ride!
Witnessed the changing of all four seasons.

Sang at a wedding in the south of France.
Went swimming in a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Went swimming in the Atlantic Ocean.
Did my grocery shopping at a market (not a supermarket).

Learned how to sew (so far, a dress and cushion covers).

Learned how to knit (made a scarf).
Learned how to dance the salsa.
Learned how to bake (my favorite dessert: lemon tart!).

Hosted a dinner party for 10.
Hosted five house guests, the most I've ever had at one time.
Bought serious rain gear (and wore rain boots).

Stepped inside a windmill.

Edited videos for money.
*WHEW!*

Did you keep your New Year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I don't make New Year's resolutions. But this year I set goals (something that always works for me when I remember to do it) and achieved many of them. That's something I will do again this year.

Did anyone close to you give birth?

Susie and Tinus, our dearest friends from Singapore, became the parents of a gorgeous baby boy named Max, the day before we moved to Amsterdam. We were his first visitors at the hospital!

Later in the year, another Max was born—this time to my friend Leslie in Amsterdam.

Did anyone close to you die?

Tito Rolly Cailles, one of our wedding godfathers, succumbed to leukemia.

What countries did you visit?

Switzerland, Portugal, Norway, Italy, Germany, Belgium, France, Turkey and the Philippines.

What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?

A steady paycheck. Haha!

What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Taking a leap of faith and ending up with a home and a life that I love. Runner-up: losing 8 pounds in two months.

What was your biggest failure?

Succumbing to inertia for a significant chunk of the year.

Did you suffer illness or injury?

I was hospitalized for severe asthma shortly after our arrival in the Netherlands.

What date from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

January 10, 2011: the day we arrived in Amsterdam.

What was the best thing you bought?

Hard to choose in a year filled with great furniture purchases. But I have would say it's a toss-up between Final Cut Pro 7—the only purchase that's paid for itself!—and my large purple leather satchel from Su-Shi.

Whose behavior merited celebration?

My husband, for sure! From big things (like making the choices that got us where we are this year) to small things (like getting out of bed late at night to adjust the heating), he has done so much to make me feel like the luckiest wife in the world.

What did you get really, really, really excited about? MOVING TO EUROPE!

Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

Appalled and depressed are strong words; I wouldn't use them. But the Philippine government always manages to make me go aaaaargh!

Where did most of your money go?

Fewer things, more experiences: travel and creative classes. I'm very happy about that.

What song will always remind you of 2011?

Turning Tables by Adele: it was playing while we were painting the living room. Firework by Katy Perry was on practically every two minutes on the radio in Portugal and was the soundtrack to many a drive. And Kanye's All of the Lights.

Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder? Happier. Maybe "just as happy" would be more accurate.
ii. thinner or fatter? For the first time... THINNER, thank God!
iii. richer or poorer? Poorer in pocket, richer in experience.

What do you wish you'd done more of? Find work/generate income.

What do you wish you'd done less of? Stay in bed all day.

What was your favorite TV program?

Breaking Bad! Also: Game of Thrones, Fringe, Master Chef Australia, Homeland.

Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?

I don't hate anyone. Hating is more toxic for the hater than for the hated.

What was the best book you read? A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin.

What was your greatest musical discovery?

Florence and the Machine (sorry, I know I'm late to the party), Calle 13 (reggaeton a.k.a. Latino hip-hop), Joshua Radin (folk), Wende (amazing Dutch chanteuse specializing in the French chanson).

What did you want and got?

Living in Europe has been a lifelong dream that was fulfilled this year. I also wanted to make girl friends, learn Dutch, take creative classes and travel, travel, travel. Check na check!

In terms of material possessions, I wanted a new lens and a sewing machine. Thanks to my thoughtful hubby who knows me so well and always gives me great gifts, I got both!

What was your favorite film of this year? Midnight in Paris!

What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I turned 30 in Turkey! I woke up at the crack of dawn to go on my first-ever hot air balloon ride over the stunning landscape of Cappadocia.

What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

A real summer with sunshine, blue skies and warm weather.

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?

"Embracing Europe." I experimented more, and gave more thought to putting together an overall look. I also loved being able to layer out of necessity and not pretense... and to be able to do it without wilting!

What kept you sane? Thank God for the Internet. And new friends.

Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Alexander Skarsgard! Hotness.

What political issue stirred you the most?

The NAIA airport renovation and cancellation of KLM's direct flights to Manila. Yes, I'm selfish that way.

Who did you miss? My family and choir friends.

Who was the best new person you met?

My new girlfriends, the "ladies who lunch." I'm so lucky to have found a group of women who are not only genuinely kind, but also smart, creative, easy to be with, and funny.

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011:

This quote by James Frey sums it up quite nicely: "If you care about what other people think, you will always be their prisoner." I've begun to truly grasp that I don't have to prove anything to anyone.

Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:

"Today is where your book begins/The rest is still unwritten." - Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield

The most touching experience you've had this year?

Being on the receiving end of the Glee Club's farewell serenade in Paris. Sniff.

What did you like most about yourself this year?

My creativity. I've both gone back to what I love to do and discovered new ways to express myself. My challenge for 2012 will be to focus my efforts and ideas in a way that will create value for myself and others.

What did you hate most about yourself this year?

I put off way too many things.

Was 2011 a good year for you?

The best I've had in a while. I like the lifestyle changes that have come about as a result of our big move. And it's not every year that a dream gets fulfilled. I can't wait to find out what 2012 has in store!

Year four

2011-12-31T13:58:00.002+01:00

Marlon and I celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary with five days in Boracay. Holing up in our own little world is just the kind of thing marriage gives us license to do, without setting off a wave of wagging tongues!

Financially, 2011 has not been the best year for us—although we were prepared for that when we made the decision to move to Europe. So, no gifts this year. But just out of curiosity, I looked up a list of traditional wedding anniversary gifts. We've never followed the traditions (year three, leather = missed opportunity!) but upon seeing that year four is supposed to be fruit or flowers, I suggested that we share a Boracay favorite to mark the occasion.

Yep, for our fourth anniversary we gave each other mango shakes from Jonah's! Slurping them in the shallows, under the sun, was absolutely perfect: another great memory to add to our growing list.

Then Marlon made me funny things out of sand...

like a perfect white sphere carved with our initials...

an "Angry Birds" inspired effigy of Rogue (a.k.a. "Angry Cat")...

... and the silliest gift of all, a "love lump" in the sand. I told you this was a low-budget anniversary!

Thank goodness for Boracay's spectacular sunsets. Instant romance! Libre pa!

We both love, love, LOVE Dos Mestizos and make sure we have at least one meal there wherever we're in Boracay. So we didn't even consider any other restaurant for our anniversary dinner. Aside from their scrumptious paella, we also love their ostras fritas (fried oysters with aioli).

And don't even get me started on the bread pudding. My mouth is literally watering at the memory.

We decided to hoof it all the way back to our digs in Station 1. After walking past the perya atmosphere of Station 3 (all I can say is: not for me), I heard a familiar voice at Bom Bom Bar. Hello, Armand!

I've known Armand for years but was my first time to see him perform a full set. In fairness nag-enjoy ako. He sure knows how to spread good vibes. And his songs are catchy. #proud

So that was our anniversary. Simple and sweet, but filled with all the things we love to enjoy together: travel, food, music and each other's company. I couldn't ask for more.

Vintage treasures from Mom

2011-12-25T16:43:00.001+01:00

My appetite for travel is something that I most definitely inherited from my mom. While I was growing up, if she wasn't jetting off to a foreign country then she was packing us—her two girls—into the car for weekend jaunts to the beach.

In addition to being a consummate traveler, she was also an insatiable collector—or as we like to say, a hoarder! She would always bring things home from her trips: anything from heirloom-worthy pieces from Europe to whatever was the latest trend in Japan or the US or wherever she happened to be. I remember being the first family we knew to have a Discman and to wear t-shirts emblazoned with the faces of The Simpsons (whom I thought were really ugly and weird) as early as 1990.

Mom has since declared her jetsetting days pretty much behind her, except for the rare occasions when my sister and I succeed at convincing her to get on a plane and visit us. But some of the things she picked up on her travels still remain. And since we've been ragging on her to de-clutter, she decided to pass them on to us, her two daughters.

So out came the tablecloths she amassed in Europe over 20 years ago. Not only are they beautifully handcrafted, but now, they're also vintage! #doublewin

I was torn between this lovely ecru lace cloth from Portugal, above, and an embroidered cutwork tablecloth with handmade lace, from Belgium. Each fits a table for 10-12 persons and comes with matching cloth napkins.

After much agonizing, I chose the latter. The details simply won me over.

Mom decided to wrap them up for Christmas—you know, just because it's more fun that way!

She also threw in a set of handmade Belgian lace coasters...

... and matching cocktail napkins. I've never used cocktail napkins (I didn't even know such things existed!), but now I'm racking my brain for an excuse to debut them.

Finally, Mom brought out the most delicate little demitasse cups in refreshing pastel hues. That was when I squealed like a tickled piglet.

Aren't they cuuuuuuuute?

Even Marlon, who's been known to veto any additions to our home that are too overtly girly, couldn't help but be charmed.

Feel free to come over to our house anytime for the most precious espresso ever.

Really. It's my pleasure.

Now this is how you recycle gifts for Christmas. Thanks, Mom!

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-24T07:36:00.002+01:00

Merry Christmas from the warm, humid frenzy of Manila!

I flew home with Marlon via KLM last Saturday. Since then, we've been spending time with family and friends whom I've missed, thus the inactivity on this blog. Next week, we're off to celebrate our fourth wedding anniversary in Boracay (yay, warm waters and white sand!) so there will be more radio silence through New Year's.

In the meantime, let me leave you with some photos that should get you in a lovely Christmasy mood (if you aren't already feeling it!). I've always wanted to visit the famous German Christmas markets, so Marlon and I took the train to Koln (a.k.a. Cologne) a few weeks ago for a weekend trip.

I've been to Koln with the Glee Club. That was 10 years ago, and I never thought I would come back. Being there with Marlon, and looking up to see the massive Dom (Cathedral) all lit up, gave me goosebumps. I simply couldn't believe I was there again. It was another one of those "funny how life works out" moments.

Being at a Weinachtmarkt, or German Christmas market, was like being in a Christmas Disneyland. I'd been warned by German friends that Koln was rather commercial as Christmas markets go, but that didn't faze me.

With much to gawk at, laugh at, buy, eat, drink and enjoy, how could I not love every single shimmering, sparkling moment of it?

After the Christmas market at the Dom, which is the biggest one in the city, we walked to the one in the Alter Stadt, or Old Town. This one was smaller, more intimate and felt more quaint.

It was also mobbed by 10pm!

This year, the Alter Stadt market was all done up in an adorable gnome theme that I loved!

On our last day, before catching the train back to Amsterdam, we dropped by the Markt der Engel, or Angel's Market, at Neumarkt.

Three out of eight Christmas markets is not too bad, right? It was a wonderful weekend that really put us in the holiday mood. I would love to visit other markets, in other towns, next year. I'm sure each one has its own charm... and its own selection of tasty treats and pretty baubles.

Wherever and however you're spending the holidays, I wish you lots of laughter, music, good food and great company. I wish you joy and belonging amongst the people you love most and who know you best. Because that's what Christmas is to me.

Merry Christmas from me and Marlon!

Going green

2011-12-16T15:31:00.000+01:00

I'm such a Christmas junkie that I put our home through not one, but two phases of Christmas decorating. I started out with dried and plastic decorations, some of which were brought over with us from Singapore. With a little creativity and red polka-dot ribbon, dried and plastic was fine.

But the moment December hit, every flower shop on the corner sprouted greens. Christmas greens. Reds and greens, actually, and more. From pine to mistletoe to holly to blackberries, all those things I've only read about in books plus more that I couldn't even name.

Suddenly, all this abundance of freshness changed my feelings towards plastic. So I redecorated.

Before and after #1: the wreath on my front door. I started with a rustic-looking bare twig wreath, dressed up with plastic holly and some ribbon. In December, I tied boughs of fresh pine around the form. It looks a little like a shaggy green monster, but I like it. (I have to... I made it!)

Before and after #2: my dining table centerpiece. My Pinay friend Jec gave me a great idea: to fill a rustic-looking tray with candles and pinecones. Two weeks later, I replaced some of the pinecones and with fresh pine and berries. When I cut the pine into smaller pieces, the sap from the branches left an absolutely divine scent on my hands that is nothing—nothing!—like those pine air fresheners we see dangling from the rearview mirror of taxis in Manila.

We hung a real pine wreath in our living room, where it probably sends smug, mocking vibes over to our fake pine Christmas tree. Over the kitchen door went a bunch of various greens and berries that were pre... um, pre-bunched? So all I had to do was tie a nice bow over it and hang it on an S-hook. One last stray bough of pine also got the bow treatment before going up over the door to the balcony.

And in front of the window, spare pinecones and a large spray of red berries. I wish I knew what these are called, because I just love them. On gloomy days (and there are many), that pop of bright red against the gray outdoors makes me feel a little bit better.

Don't you just love the freshness? I just might never go back to plastic again!

Ornament obsession

2011-12-16T10:44:00.002+01:00

As I've blogged about in this week's post on MangoJuiced, I've gotten over the whole matchy-matchy Christmas tree. I've started migrating the red-and-gold ornaments that we bought in Landmark for our first Christmas to other places, like our dining room chandelier and this tabletop lamp.

What's made me reconsider our Christmas tree? I've made a few Canadian and American friends for whom the addition of one new, special ornament to the tree every year is part of the family holiday tradition. No themed trees, no matching sets—just a collection where every piece was chosen because it was pretty and special in itself.

The idea of carefully selecting and slowly building up a collection of cherished ornaments has started to really appeal to me. Somehow, it fits in perfectly with the wearing-off of our newlywed excitement. That's not a bad thing, by the way—after four years, I've simply realized that Marlon and I are going to be together for a long, long time. That means many, many Christmases together... and lots of time to collect ornaments.

These are some of the ones we chose to jumpstart our new, non-matchy collection. The only thing our ornaments should match are the memories we've made around them. I know I'll always remember these as being from our first Christmas in Amsterdam.

I got the "antique" mirrored star and porcelain bird at the Osdorp Tuincentrum, a mind-bogglingly huge garden warehouse turned Christmas emporium where we shopped for our decorations. The clear glass ball with the feather (which reminds me of the final scene from Labyrinth) is from De Bijenkorf, Amsterdam's oldest department store.

The floral ball reminds me of India, and the red ornament is actually a capiz chesa from... the Philippines! I was elated to find both in a fair trade boutique in Haarlem. The black bauble was Marlon's choice, and I have to admit it looks pretty cool.

A blown glass owl, a tiny delicate winged horse, an odd little Santa gnome, and Santa baking in his kitchen: these are the ornaments we bought on our visit to the Christmas markets in Cologne, Germany. The German Christmas markets are like the Disneylands of Christmas and deserve a separate post all together! So many beautiful hand-blown and hand-carved ornaments there made it excruciatingly hard to choose, but we managed to keep it down to these.

Which of the new ornaments do you like best? And do you have any special ornaments in your family? I'd love to know!

Christmas chandelier

2011-12-15T23:55:00.001+01:00

Remember the wineglass chandelier that we got in April?

It recently became the target of my Christmas decorating frenzy. I had something in mind, but before I could put my idea to work, all the wineglasses had to come off. Yes, all 36 of them.

While the glasses received their first wash in months, I strung up a few new ornaments: a set of four very shiny silver ones from Ikea, as well as some fresh picks from De Bijenkorf. All of the ornaments I chose were either silver, gold, transparent or some kind of combination of the three. All the better to let through, or reflect, the light from the central bulb.

Marlon and I couldn't resist taking a few pictures while working. Shiny things are just too much fun to play with.

After throwing in a few of our pre-loved ornaments to fill in the gaps, and draping some faux greens over the top, our chandelier revamp was complete.

Voila! Presenting our Christmas chandelier.

Just looking at it all lit up in the evening gives me the warm-and-fuzzies.

It's just as pretty in the daytime.

I'll be sad to take it down after the holidays. But for now, I'll enjoy it as much as I can.

Watercolor Christmas cards

2011-12-14T10:25:00.000+01:00

Success! I've mailed out my Christmas cards for the year. Yes, I'm one of those people that still sends out Christmas cards via snail mail. It's usually a struggle to get them out on time, but this year I managed my to do it!

I knew I wanted to make my own cards this year. And I knew I wanted to combine watercolors with hand lettering. So I set out my watercolors, tore out a few pages from my watercolor sketch pad, and played around with them one rainy afternoon. These were some of the cards I came up with. Apologies for the bad lighting, Amsterdam has been immersed in this weak gray gloom all week.

Yes, the designs are pretty simple and it's a very small batch of cards (plus a couple that I didn't photograph). But each one is unique and is made with love and care. Which one do you like best?

Oh, and I also made the envelopes myself, as all the cards are odd sizes. I used this festive Japanese washi tape with polka dots (my current obsession) to seal the envelopes.

And now my cards are winging their way to Belgium, the UK and Singapore. Fly swift, my pretties, and spread the Christmas cheer!

All is bright

2011-12-13T11:34:00.001+01:00

Here in the Netherlands, Christmas plays second fiddle to Sinterklaas, which is on the 6th of December. This means that any form of Christmas decorations are nowhere to be seen until after December 6.

By Filipino standards, that's just way too late in the game. After all, ours is a nation where Christmas jingles begin ring-ting-ting-a-linging in September. I'm not quite that hardcore, but by the third week of November, my inner Christmas junkie was rattling its cage and howling to be unleashed.

And so it was with a star shining bright that we cried to our entire neighborhood: Christmas is here! Oh and yes, we're early. But we're Filipino!

I would have loved to hang up a traditional parol. And I have a husband who actually knows how to make one (thank you, Ateneo Grade School). But do you know how hard it is to find long bamboo sticks in Holland... in winter, nonetheless?

So we had to settle for these punched paper stars, one for each window facing the street. It's not really settling, though, because I love them. They make such pretty reflections against the glass.

One of our big debates while preparing for the move to Amsterdam was whether or not to take our plastic Christmas tree with us. "Who needs plastic? We'll finally be able to get a real live tree!" was the argument against plastic. "But... you never know!" was the (rather weak) counter-argument.

Guess which side won?

Surprisingly, "you never know" won the day. So this is a plastic tree, sorry. There were no Christmas trees to be found before December, and waiting would have messed up our already-delayed Pinoy Christmas timeline. So up went the plastic tree, gussied up with a sparkly new string of LED lights... that said "rice lights" on the box. I guess you can't separate a Filipino from his rice.

All the fresh trees came out last Monday, December 6... less than two weeks before our flight home. So, too late the hero, as they say. It wouldn't have made sense for us to spring for a real tree, enjoy it for 10 days, leave it for three weeks, and come home to a dried mess of needles on the floor. I see them on practically every street corner now and I feel like they're mocking me. Che!

Back to those rice lights. We had an extra string of lights (can you say over-enthusiastic buying?) so I got Marlon to cram it into a vintage glass jar I picked up at the Queen's Day flea market. That's how we work often: I'm concept, he's execution. Or as he likes to say, I'm digital and he's analog.

Our old string of lights from Singapore went into a big glass cylinder with a bunch of previously loved Christmas ornaments. The whole confection went on top of our steel hallway cabinet to help our little Ikea lamp battle the winter darkness.

By the way, this Christmas luminary is the subject of this week's post on MangoJuiced. Check out the full post to read the story behind this project... and how you can get the look for your home!

My TEDxAmsterdam experience

2011-12-12T11:43:00.001+01:00

Do you watch TED talks online? I do, and I love them. So in the months leading up to our big move, I was thrilled to find out about TEDxAmsterdam. Just like attending Dutch Design Week, getting involved in TEDxAmsterdam was something that I had my eye on from afar. I told myself: when I get there, I'm going to do that.

"That" meant applying for a spot on the volunteers' team in July, via a short form on the TEDxAms website, and hearing back from Salmaan, the head of the volunteers' team, three weeks before the big event on November 25.

"That"meant showing up at Amsterdam's Stadsschouwburg (city theater) a week before the event to meet the volunteers, be briefed on our tasks and take a tour of the theater. I love the performing arts and the Stadsschouwburg (yes, I stumble a bit when I type that), dating back to 1894, is one of Amsterdam's oldest performing arts venues. I loved being able to go backstage and all around this historic building.

"That" meant getting my own TEDxAmsterdam t-shirt to wear on the day of the event. Yay for swag!

Photo courtesy of Mariana Oud

"That" meant packing away my happy smiley Filipino self for a few hours to man the doors of the main hall, where over 300 guests (including VIPs) would be seated, and channel the door bitch I never knew I had within me. I thought being an usherette (or hoofdzaal, as they say in Dutch) would be the perfect use of my genetic impulse for friendliness and hospitality. Boy, was I wrong.

Between people trying to sneak in with wineglasses or food, people trying to sneak in where they weren't allowed to sit, people trying to worm their way in after the sessions had started, I had to steel myself to just say NO! It meant being firm, not listening to people wheedling, bargaining and throwing their (perceived) weight around, and possibly even being (gasp) disliked. But you know what? It was worth it.

Read why, after the jump!

I got to see some inspiring talks and watch some amazing musical performances. I got to see the view from the stage that only the speakers see, toy with a camera that Nat Geo and Discovery use to shoot their footage, and gawk at a real (uncannily human) android.

And I got to meet a lot of really great people. For a person starting a new life in a new country, this was the best part of my TEDxAmsterdam experience. It was intimidating and at times frustrating being the only person there who didn't speak Dutch. Sure, I've learned een beetje (a bit) over the past few months, but trying to follow animated conversations with the language skills of a one year-old can really mess with your head.

I know I probably looked like I was frowning a lot, because I was always concentrating hard on trying to understand what people were saying. There were times I would just have to grit my teeth and wait for an opportunity to jump into the conversation—thankfully, usually because another volunteer would gently remind everyone that we had an English speaker in the room.

But the times when I did get to join in the backstage conversations... well, those were some of the most inspiring and enjoyable moments of my whole day. If working harder at Dutch is what it takes to plug into life here, befriend people like these, and tap into a wellspring of people who are positive, passionate, smart and interesting, then I want to do it. Because I'm going to be here for a while.

Photo courtesy of Salmaan Sana

Talking to people from the volunteers' team really took me back to what I love most about being in a different country: meeting people, and seeing that there's more than one way to live your life. Through the people I've met on my travels, I've learned that we don't have to do things just the way we were brought up to do, or live the way we're told to. I don't reject my upbringing at all, but I love the freedom and inspiration that one can gain from seeing the many different ways people around the world live their lives.

That was my TEDxAmsterdam: more than just ideas worth sharing, an experience worth repeating.

Five faves from... Istanbul

2011-12-11T16:51:00.004+01:00

Hoo boy, I've been busy busy busy these past two weeks! I had so much about Istanbul that I wanted to blog about, but I figured if I had to wait until I actually had time to write about all of it, it would just never happen. And so much has happened since that trip, that I really need to blog and be done with it.

So I'm wrapping up my Turkey posts with a roundup of my five favorite things about Istanbul. I think the tag "five faves from..." could easily apply to anyplace and anything, so watch out... it might just become a regular feature around here!

1) Sweets at Saray. There are lots of sweet shops selling pasha lokum, more famously known as Turkish delight, along Istiklal Caddesi. But all of them pale in comparison to Saray Muhallebicisi, a restaurant, tea and dessert shop that's been satisfying Istanbul's sweet tooth since 1935. Saray's huge storefront window, filled with a tempting array of Turkish sweets, is completely mesmerizing.

Until Saray, I never knew watching syrup drip could be so hypnotic. You are getting sleeeepy... you will want to eaaaat meeeee...

Brisk, efficient staff in old-school uniforms dish out tray after tray of sweets to a packed house and long queues at the takeout counter. Towering stacks of treats disappeared literally in minutes. It was fascinating to watch.

Inside: bedlam. Four completely packed floors of sugar frenzy. Those servers were practically mobbed!

Speaking of sugar frenzy, this was another one of those moments where everything was so yummy I forgot to take pictures. Just take it from me, those sweets in the window are every bit as rich and delicious as they look. Best washed down with a hot Turkish tea or strong Turkish coffee!

2) Aya Sofya. It was a photo of the Aya Sofya (or Hagia Sophia) that first made me want to visit Istanbul. The city's most ancient, and most famous monument was built by Emperor Justinian in 537 AD, and was many things in its long and tumultuous history: a church, a mosque, then a museum.

Behold the splendor, after the jump!

With a soaring, seemingly unsupported dome (a true architectural feat of its time), what Aya Sofia is today is... magnificent.

From the stunning ceiling that once held 30 million gold mosaic tiles (tesserae) to the chandeliers that hang overhead, Aya Sofya left me in awe and simply thankful to be there.

Some beautiful mosaics still remain on the second floor. Great detail, vivid colors, and lots of gold—which I love! They seem to glow even after more than a thousand years.

3) Sunday market at Ortakoy. A neighborhood on the European shore of the Bosphorus, Ortakoy has lots of interesting little shops, cafes and restaurants lining the riverside. It's also home to a small open-air market every Sunday.

With winter coming and most of the sellers being middle-aged and elderly women, the market was full of cozy, colorful hand-knit items. Right beside the displays were their proprietors just knitting away the whole afternoon.

When I travel, I'm always on the lookout for a funky accessory or two to take home with me, and markets are great places to look. These chunky rings fit the bill perfectly!

I found Ortakoy to be a really nice, relaxed, and very local place to walk around. People just hang out by the riverside for a chat, a snack or a glass of tea (or all of the above) while enjoying the view of the Bosphorus. That's Asia on the other side of that bridge, by the way.

4) The ultimate baked potato. Most travel guides I read mentioned fresh seafood as the thing to eat at Ortakoy. But looking around the area, it seemed the locals were trying to tell me something else.

It turns out Ortakoy is famous for the many stalls selling kumpir, or stuffed baked potatoes. Or should I say, the ultimate stuffed baked potato.

And when I say stuffed, I mean stuffed—we're talking 10 or more toppings here. Butter and cheese are just the foundation of this wonderful creation.

Steaming hot and loaded with toppings, it was the perfect lunch on a chilly fall day. It was cheap and filling too!

5) Cross-continental cruise. After shopping at the market and stuffing ourselves with kumpir, Marlon and I hopped on a ferry that took us on a short cruise up and down the Bosphorus. This strait connects the Black Sea with the Sea of Marmaris, but more importantly, has Europe on one shore, Asia on the other.

Aside literally putting you between Europe and Asia, the Bosphorus cruise is also great for sighting all the ultra-wealthy homes (stately mansions and chic, all-glass apartments) lining both shores, with their jacuzzis and yachts out front.

Like the strange and silly couple we are, Marlon and I had a laugh sticking our noses in the air and showing off our "summer mansions" to an imaginary yacht full of imaginary guests.

To me, it was all very Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. But to Marlon, this photo was all about "I'll bet my orchids, it's brewed!" Can anyone remember what commercial that was?

MangoJuiced: Fave talks from TEDxAmsterdam

2011-12-05T10:25:00.000+01:00

Searching for inspiration? TED has it in spades—that's why I've been watching TED talks online for two years, and why I volunteered for TEDxAmsterdam. This is the volunteers' team onstage at the end of this year's conference: can you find me on the extreme left?

Photo: Jan-Jaap Heine/TEDxAmsterdam on Flickr

This week on MangoJuiced, I share three of my favorite talks from TEDxAmsterdam. I'll blog about my experience behind the scenes—or more appropriately, in front of the doors—very soon. In the meantime, click over to MangoJuiced for the talks and the full post... and enjoy!

Design Folder

2011-11-24T08:44:00.001+01:00

Dutch Design Week is the kind of event that makes you go all home TV shopping and say... "But wait! There's more! It's an inexhaustible treasure trove of inspiration, and it was hard to select just a few things to blog about for the posts that I did here and on MangoJuiced.

That's why when the kind folks at Design Folder invited me to blog a couple of guest posts on DDW, I couldn't pass up the opportunity. In this week's guest post, I focused on home furnishings and lighting that are great examples of the Dutch knack for curiosity, simplicity and playfulness in design.

Check out my roundup of home furnishings and lighting from DDW at Design Folder, and be sure to check back for another post from me soon!

Design Folder is all about design—from the latest in architecture and interior design to the trendiest furniture and interior accessories.

Design Folder is a Manila-based website dedicated to sharing design ideas and inspirations through its different sections such as Space Matters (interior design and architecture), Conscious Living (green design), Spacelift (makeovers), Design Speak (styles and themes), Design Trail (travel), DIY (design-it-yourself) and more. Every post is geared towards helping readers spruce up their lives by improving their own little space.

Friday night in Istanbul

2011-11-23T17:13:00.002+01:00

Every city has an iconic avenue, a vital artery through which the lifeblood of the city flows. Paris has its Champs Elysees, Barcelona its Las Ramblas, and Singapore its Orchard Road. What Istanbul has, is Istiklal Caddesi.

That's precisely where Marlon and I found ourselves on our first evening in Istanbul. We were far too tired to do much more than take an evening stroll, after getting up at 3am to leave Cappadocia and traveling the entire morning. On our way there, dozens of Turkish flags hung up for the Victory Day national holiday waved us on.

You know things are about to get interesting when you see public art like this, at the south end of Istiklal Caddesi just minutes from our apartment.

We hit the first bend in the road with a slight downward slope. Looking down at Istiklal Caddesi from that gentle hill, two things immediately came to mind. "Madness!" was the first. What followed next, I had no words for at the time. But now I know what it was: it felt like home. And this shows you why.

Much has been said about how Istanbul is where East meets West, Europe meets Asia. Seeing this for the first time is where it really hit me, with a jolt. Yes, it looks like a European boulevard. Even the idea of an evening stroll is so European. And if you have any doubt that you are still in Europe, you only have to peer into the narrow, sloping side streets that branch off from Istiklal Caddesi.

But the energy, the rush and the madness is all Asia. And instead of wilting at the sight of this crowd, I felt alive. It was the spark of energy I needed after a long day of traveling... and a long time away from home.

I think it mostly has to do with the people. With a population of 13 million, Istanbul definitely feels much more like Manila (pop. 19 million) than Amsterdam (pop. 800,000), and that is especially obvious on Istiklal Caddesi. It seems that half of Istanbul was walking there that Friday night. Another thing about the people... well, they look like me! I can't count the number of times someone talked to me or Marlon in Turkish during our stay.

Istanbul feels like a city of contradictions. A loophole where 1 + 1 does not always add up to 2. A metropolis bubbling with a kind of craziness I realized that I miss. A place where you can go wild...

... or go to church. Or both, because this store and the church are right across from each other!

Another thing that reminded me of home? Street food.

Just like Manila, kestane, or roasted chestnuts, appear in the streets when it's cold. I just had to have some!

Street food vendors are everywhere on Istiklal Caddesi. Some of them, like this guy, were popping open mussels on the sidewalks. At first I thought they were touts promoting seafood restaurants, so I walked away from the first few that I saw.

But then the acid-bright yellow of plump, glistening lemons caught my eye. And you know how I love anything lemony.

These yellow "flags" are how I discovered midye, mussels stuffed with rice and spices.

At €1 a pop, it was easy to just keep stuffing midye after midye into my mouth. The vendors know this, so they will just keep popping mussels open and handing them to you until you tell them you've had enough. But with my mouth filled with the taste of spices, sea, rice and lemon, it was far too preoccupied to bother with the word "stop!"

Cat country

2011-11-22T22:16:00.001+01:00

Upon our arrival in Istanbul, Marlon and I were both delighted and relieved to find not only a lovely apartment in a fantastic location, but the cutest, most endearing welcoming committee ever. Say hello to Georgie and Bavaria!

Georgie and Bavaria belong to Suzan, our fantastic Airbnb host in Istanbul. My personal theory is that cats are an indicator of a great apartment and a thoughtful host; I was definitely right this time.

Black-and-motley Georgie was the most affectionate cat ever, purring and cozying up to us literally from the moment we walked in the door. (Note: hire her to give Rogue some coaching.) She even climbed into bed for a cuddle on our last morning... just like Rogue would if we were at home! As you can see, she had lots of bonding moments with Marlon. Bavaria was more reticent, but being deaf and very old, that was easy to forgive.

Turkey is cat country. There are big, beautiful, fluffy cats everywhere—the type that would be pet store material in Manila. Being the crazy cat lady that I am, I couldn't resist snapping pictures of the cats I saw. Coo over the cuteness, after the jump!

In Amsterdam there are shop cats, restaurant cats and even pub cats, but street cats are a rare breed. I didn't realize how much I missed them until I got to Turkey. They were everywhere—yowling to be fed under the table in Goreme or sleeping outside a jewelry store in Istanbul. And though they were always underfoot, not once in six days did I see a single Turk kick or even shoo away a cat. I even saw a hulking, macho leather-clad biker type bend down to scratch the cat sleeping underneath his bike.

Even the (slightly) posh restaurant we treated ourselves to on our last evening in Istanbul had its own cats, complete with their own bowl of food and water by the door. It's hard to claim to be really posh with two fat cats like these sprawled across the floor. And I like that.

Dog lovers, I haven't forgotten you. Say hello to the scruffy scoundrel of central Goreme!

Don't say I didn't throw you a bone. Har har har.

MangoJuiced: Getting gezellig

2011-11-22T09:45:00.002+01:00

G-E-Z-E-L-L-I-G. When I first arrived last January, I had no idea what it was but heard it all the time. Now, almost one year later, I completely understand.

So, what on earth is gezellig? And why is it the one thing you absolutely must have to survive a cold Dutch winter? Find out in this week's post on MangoJuiced!

Welkom Sinterklaas!

2011-11-21T09:58:00.001+01:00

Santa who? In the Netherlands, this season is all about Sinterklaas. Forget December 25th. Here, the day for gift-giving is the 5th of December, because that's when Sinterklaas—Sint Nikolaas, or Saint Nicholas—comes to bring gifts to good children.

In mid-November, Sinterklaas arrives in town via steamboat from Spain (!) and is welcomed with a huge parade. Public transport in the center of Amsterdam shuts down as what seems like every child in Amsterdam (and their parents) flock to the streets to welcome their beloved Sinterklaas.

Tradition dictates that on the evening of Sinterklaas' arrival, children must put a shoe in front of the fireplace with a carrot or hay as a treat for Sinterklaas' white horse. The next morning, they'll find a present in their shoes from Sinterklaas.

Here comes the man himself... after the jump!

Each town has its own Sinterklaas. I love that you can actually see Sinterklaas—we Santa-believers had to rely so heavily on our imaginations! Every generation of kids who grew up in the same town will share memories of the same Sinterklaas, and I think that's wonderful.

Amsterdam's Sinterklaas was just perfect. He looks gentle, jolly and regal all at the same time. I was surprised to see that Sint is actually... a Catholic bishop. For a nation that fought tooth and nail to kick out the Spanish, the Dutch sure didn't want to give this Catholic up.

Just as Santa has his elves, Sinterklaas has his own helper, Zwarte Piet (Black Pete). At the parade, there were dozens of Zwarte Pieten. They were everywhere: juggling, singing, dancing, rollerblading, handing out fistfuls of sweets, receiving letters for Sinterklaas.

I know. Blackface, right? These days it's hard to mention Zwarte Piet without getting into a political discussion, especially if you hang out with mostly non-Dutchies like I do. As a concession to being politically correct, the origin story of Zwarte Piet has shifted over the years. From being Sint's slave, to a freed slave who was so grateful to Sint that he stayed, today's Zwarte Piet is simply black from chimney soot—you know, the chimneys his gift-giving work requires him to slip in and out of.

But I don't think the Dutch will ever get rid of Zwarte Piet. And to me, that's okay. I guess being from a Kafkaesque country where many things don't make complete sense, I have some compassion (if you could call it that) for traditions that aren't completely PC. If something is so ingrained in the fabric of a culture, what would happen if you pulled it out? What would you replace it with, what would you be ripping it out for, and would it be worth it?

Maybe it's because I just think of it all as one big Ati-atihan in medieval garb. Or maybe it's because Zwarte Piet bribed me with these tiny gingerbread treats called kruidnoten ("spice nuts"). Yes, my political allegiance can be bought with cookies.

And you should have seen (and heard!) the children. If I had a Euro for every tiny shout of "Piet! Piet!" I heard that day, or every little happy, soot-blackened face I saw, I would be a rich woman. Kids love Zwarte Piet. They love him so much they even dress up like him.

Even the smallest ones.

Zwarte Piet also has a special task for naughty children. Are you ready for this? He stuffs bad boys and girls into his big jute sack and takes them away to... Spain.

Dear Sinterklaas,
I've been a bad, bad girl. Where do I sign up for my trip to Spain?
Love,
Currystrumpet

Just a girl

2011-11-17T17:13:00.000+01:00

Now that I'm done with Cappadocia, I can move on to blogging about Istanbul! But before that, I thought I'd take a breather to put up the fashion illustration I finished last week in watercolor class.

Penny has been pushing me to let to go of my nitty-gritty details and learn a faster, looser style that uses more brushwork than drawing. One of the ways to do that is to copy a work done in that style. I chose this piece to study because I've always been interested in fashion illustration, and I was getting a little bored with landscapes.

I had lots of fun with this girl, and she taught me a lot! I learned simply by looking at this piece and analyzing how it's done (how the colors are mixed and how layers are built up), before attempting it myself. She didn't take too much time at all, and I felt very relaxed and free painting her. I'm looking forward to doing more of her kind, and applying the style to my own original illustrations.

A taste of Turkey

2011-11-16T17:20:00.002+01:00

My past experience of Turkish food in the past can be summed up in three words: fast, greasy and cheap. In Cappadocia, I became reacquainted with this cuisine in what was a long-overdue "proper" introduction. It turns out that whatever version of Turkish cuisine has made it out of the country and become ubiquitous around Europe are but pale fast-food shadows of the real thing.

Care for a sampling? Let's eat!

Top row: At Cafe Safak in the center of Goreme, the owner Ali's mother makes a competition-winning lentil soup (warm, hearty and cheap!); a refreshing cucumber, tomato and onion side salad; pide, Turkish-style pizza with cheese and sausage. Bottom row: "Pottery" kebap, a meat stew (your choice beef, chicken or lamb) slow-cooked in a terracotta pot that's broken at the table; chicken kebap fresh from the pot, served with rice; tangy pickled beet slaw; local red wine from Cappadocia.

The Turkish are a people after my own heart. They love their sweets and so do I! Thanks to the Turkish sweet tooth, meals always ended with a variety of delectable pastries. I chose to wash mine down with the omnipresent çay, or Turkish tea, while Marlon opted for very strong (too strong for me!), almost mud-thick Turkish coffee.

Top row: Sweet and chewy borek, a layered and baked (or fried) phyllo pastry that seems to be the Turkish national snack (it's everywhere!), best with a glass of warm Turkish tea. Bottom row: Marlon enjoying his manly coffee with delicate bites of baklava.

I thought it was going to be easy to stick to my low/no-carb diet while in Turkey. ("They eat a lot of kebabs right? Grilled meat? I should be fine!") As you can see, I was way off the mark... but quite happy to be wrong!

Panoramas, peaks and pigeon poop

2011-11-16T11:47:00.001+01:00

On our last day in Cappadocia, Marlon and I signed up for a day tour through our hotel. The tours are pretty standard (with a standard color-code system) throughout all the various tour agencies in Goreme. We opted for one that would take us to sites that were further from Goreme and would thus require the use of a car.

Our first stop was a nearby lookout point with a beautiful panorama of Goreme. Remember the flat-top mountain in the distance from our hot-air balloon ride?

Then we drove about thirty minutes to the ancient underground city of Derinkuyu. Built in the 8th century B.C. and enlarged in the Byzantine era, Derinkuyu was an underground refuge where entire towns, complete with their livestock and possessions, could weather enemy invasions. Though its series of chambers, tunnels and stairs extend eleven stories into the ground, only 10 percent of it is accessible to the public today.

Confession time: I'm claustrophobic. I braved the first room on the first level, but after attempting to walk further in I knew I couldn't handle it. So I stepped out and decreed Marlon our official representative and photographer.

We worked up our appetites for lunch with a hike through the truly stunning Ihlara Valley. A 16-km gorge cut deep into the mountainous landscape, we hiked only about a fourth of the way through it (4km, which took about an hour to an hour and a half). Four kilometers was not too bad at all. Remember, I like hiking now!

Hike along with me, after the jump!

We began our hike with a visit to one of the many old churches carved into the walls of the canyon. The pattern junkie in me loved these ancient frescoes on the ceiling and walls.

Then we were off at a rather fast clip. Again, I felt like a character in an adventure novel.

... walking amidst scenery taken right out of an epic fantasy.

I almost expected a pair of unicorns to come galloping down this stream. Very Legend, circa 1985.

This was definitely the most active day tour I've ever been on—because more hiking and climbing followed after lunch! This time, it was up the mountain to the stronghold of the Nome King (Return to Oz, 1985)... or the Selime Cathedral in real life.

The Selime Cathedral is steep and requires effort. No handholds or stairs here. I struggled, but a German couple on our tour just hopped all over this thing like a pair of mountain goats.

It's worth the climb, though, to access the hauntingly lovely complex of monasteries, churches and refectories carved within these rocky peaks.

The view of Tattooine from the top is a big bonus. The tour guides are very emphatic in correcting the myth that parts of Star Wars were filmed here, but you can see why people would think that.

On the way back to Goreme, we stopped for a view over Pigeon Valley.

It's called that because all over this valley, the rocky peaks have been turned into pigeon houses. Pigeons were very important in Cappadocia, which is largely an agricultural region, because they provided fertilizer for the crops.

Of course, no agency-organized tour can end without a big selling opportunity. For our last stop, we were taken to a workshop that processes onyx, a mineral mined in this region. Some of the onyx baubles were pretty, but stone is not really my thing.

However, I did win an onyx egg for answering a trivia question. (Marlon couldn't believe I know who the founder of the Republic of Turkey was. He thinks he's married to Hermione.) So at least I got my Cappadocia souvenir without having to spend a cent.

See it, do it

2011-11-15T00:03:00.001+01:00

I just found a collage that I made at the beginning of spring, when I first started getting back into my creative groove. I was done with it, but not quite.. until I saw these tiny hot air balloons in a magazine ad and decided to toss them into the mix at the very last minute.

Six months later...

Coincidence? Or is it just what happens when you put something out into the universe? You tell me. I'm just glad it worked out this way. As R. Kelly sings: "If I can see it, then I can do it!"

Take a hike

2011-11-14T22:23:00.002+01:00

As a leisure activity, hiking has never appealed to me. For one thing, as I've said before, I'm not the biggest fan of walking. Also, Southeast Asia (particularly the Philippines) is not the easiest place to go traipsing into the wild. It's always too hot, humid and sticky, mosquitoes and insects abound, and then there's things like the NPA (which is the kind of thing parents warn you about on a field trip to Mount Makiling.)

My impression is that hiking is a rather dreary activity. What's so fun about trudging on and on for hours? Why would anyone want to walk that much?

After a sunset hike through the stunning scenery of Cappadocia, I now know why.

How Cappadocia converted me, after the jump:

On our way back to town from the Goreme Open-Air Museum, Marlon and I saw the path in the photo above. It simply... beckoned. So we decided to walk off the road and go on our first hike.

And you know what? I really enjoyed it.

I never really thought about the context of hiking: what you see while you're walking. I'd always thought of it as simply... walking. (Ugh.)

But you never walk in a vacuum, do you? When you're walking through scenery like this, you just want to keep going. Its beauty simply compels you to go on. (And the cold actually helps!)

Walking through the Cappadocian landscape is like being a character in one of my favorite fantasy, young adult or adventure novels. In this wide, circular clearing, I felt like Aragon (okay, maybe Frodo) waiting for the attack of the Nazgul in Lord of the Rings...

... while these red arrows spray-painted on the rocks (helpfully pointing the way to Rose Valley) reminded me of Labyrinth, where Sarah scrawled red lipstick arrows on the flagstones to mark her path through the maze.

I'd read that Rose Valley with its red rock formations is been a great place to watch the sunset, but with more than 2 km to go, Marlon and I were both worried we wouldn't make it back to the road before dark. Luckily, we found a perfect place of our own to hole up in.

After taking a few photos from our little cave...

... we watched the sunset together in silence.

Then it was time to walk back to Goreme, which welcomed us back with this lovely lavender sky.

Is this what I was missing all along? If hikes are always this lovely, I can definitely see myself hiking more. Consider me a convert!

MangoJuiced!

2011-11-14T11:36:00.001+01:00

I'm happy to announce that I'm now blogging at MangoJuiced.com!

Thanks to my ex-colleague-turned blogfriend Iggy of Plus Size Fasyon Mudra, who also blogs for MangoJuiced, for hooking me up with Yayie Esguerra-Co of the MangoJuiced team. Iggy's fashion posts are always fun, so be sure to check them out too!

For my first post at MangoJuiced, I put together my favorite finds from Dutch Design Week (yes, there's more!) in a fun little multiple-choice quiz. I like to think of it as a virtual shopping trip through Dutch Design Week.

Like the idea of shopping without spending? Then pop on over to MangoJuiced for the full post... and have fun!

Sanctuary

2011-11-13T23:38:00.000+01:00

After catching up on sleep post-balloon flight, Marlon and I took a ten-minute walk out of Goreme town proper to see the Goreme Open-Air Museum, a UNESCO World Heritage site.

I'm not the biggest fan of walking, but there is a lot to see along the way, from spiky alien foliage to the cutest little tag-along pups to camel rides (and the quirky signs advertising them).

The open-air museum is a sprawling monastery complex built by early Orthodox Christians between the 8th and 12th centuries.

Exploring the site takes about three hours at a leisurely pace. You can't exactly speed through it since there is a lot of uphill walking and climbing involved.

Like most everything in Cappadocia, these churches, refectories and monasteries were hewn out of rock, taking advantage of the natural shelter afforded by these caves.

It's not just the raw beauty of these rock formations that makes this place a treasure...

... but also how they represent a rare successful collaboration between man and Mother Nature. These caves have served as natural vaults for the paintings and decorations made by the early Christian monks, keeping them safe for centuries. (Given the region's bloody and tumultuous history, I'd say they did a pretty good job.)

Inside these rock walls is a truly special site: the Dark Church. For an extra 8 TL (which is well worth it), the stunning frescoes within (some damaged, many still vivid) take you back to what it was like to be a Christian in the 12th century. No photos are allowed inside so this is as far as I can take you.

For a Catholic like myself, the experience was like stepping into an alternate universe (or have I been watching too much Fringe?), a could-have-been. Though we share the same central figures and events as the Orthodox Church, I noticed that the frescoes placed heavy emphasis on saints we barely know—St. Basil and St. George are two of the most important ones.

It made me wonder what history would have been like if the two churches had never parted ways. What would I believe today? Would it have been better for all of us? I guess we'll never really know; the beauty of a place like Goreme is that it helps us imagine, ask, and wonder.

Yabadabadoo!

2011-11-13T12:14:00.000+01:00

Walking around the town of Goreme, I noticed that the Flintstones were a pretty common reference. There were Flintstones cafes, Flintstones hostels, even a Flintstones handicraft workshop.

It's not without good reason. Cappadocia is famous for the cave homes that have been built into its otherworldly landscape. I have a friend who is notorious for having blurted out, while driving along the potholed roads of Kamuning, Quezon City: "Where are we? Are we on the moon or something?" A town like Goreme is the perfect place to ask such a question.

Residents of Goreme, and similar towns in Cappadocia, are real-life Flintstones—they've turned caves into homes. And with the tourism boom, many of those homes have been converted into hotels.

A cave hotel is the place to stay in Cappadocia. Unless your life is an adventure novel (hello, Hunger Games), how many times in your life will you ever have the chance to sleep in a cave?

Come into our cozy cave dwelling, after the jump!

I booked a room for Marlon and myself at the Travellers' Cave Hotel, which has excellent reviews on Booking.com. From these pictures, you can probably get an inkling as to why.

The hotel is built into a hill overlooking central Goreme. It's built in such a way that we couldn't see any of the other rooms from where we were staying, which was nice.

And yes, the rooms really are built into caves.

This is what our room looked like inside. I would have thought all the stone would make it feel cold, but it was actually quite cozy and homey.

It was such a nice feeling to come home to our cave after being out in temperatures ranging from 7 to -2℃. Having a fireplace helped too, though we only lit it on our last evening in Goreme.

There was a slight smell of wet stone in the bathroom, but nothing highly objectionable. Though from some of the reviews on Booking.com, it seems a few travelers took issue with that. Lighten up, prissy people, it's a cave. Let's just be happy it even has a hot shower and a warm bed!

Up, up and away

2011-11-09T11:39:00.003+01:00

I knew Marlon and I were going to arrive in Goreme past midnight. I also knew that we would have to be picked up at the hotel before dawn. So I knew there was more than a slight chance that I would look back at my 30th birthday pictures and think that I looked like the biggest living eyebag that ever walked this earth. But I knew, more than anything, that I wanted this to be the first thing I did upon turning 30.

So I went for it. My first hot-air balloon flight! And because there are times when even pictures are not enough, I made a video so you could all come along for the ride.

I was stumped for a soundtrack until my wonderful friend Jeline sent me a link to "One Day Like This" by Elbow. It's awesome to have friends who have great taste in music. Thanks Jeliney!

Oh, and I think it's so cool that the date of my 30th birthday is printed right on my flight certificate.

Some notes on the flight after the jump:

I have a fear of heights. Observation decks? With glass floors? Hate 'em. So I was a bit worried about how I would respond to this flight. But hot air balloons are now my favorite way to reach the skies. The takeoff is unbelievably gentle. It helps that you always feel something solid—the basket—under your feet. I didn't even feel the balloon leaving the ground.

Speaking of heights, I had the misfortune to be riding with the loudest, most annoying woman in the world. She just wouldn't. Stop. Talking. Everything, and I mean everything she saw triggered a barrage of verbal diarrhea.

"Ohmygodlook, a Ford Everest. I want a Ford Everest, honey I really want one of those. Beth tells me they give great mileage. Ohmygod, a cat. So cute. There are so many cats here. It's unbelievable. Do you know why there are so many cats here? Ohmygoodlook, the balloons! There are the balloons, honey! Do you see the balloons? They look so scary! Ohmygodwait. Is that fire? Are they on fire? ARE THEY ON FIRE?!?! I don't want to be inside the one that looks like it's on fire!" Lady, there is a reason they are called hot air balloons. What do you think creates the hot air?

It got so uncomfortably loud in the van ("Small space! Loud sounds!" is what we used to tell our playgroup toddlers) that even her boyfriend/husband tried to shut her up tactfully by saying, "Wow. I didn't know you were so talkative in the morning." She retorted: "I'm only like this when I'm scared." It was like this all the way until we got into the air.

All 16 of us in the balloon were the most unfortunate recipients of a blow-by-blow commentary on how nervous she was at any given moment. To the pilot: "So, you do know what you're doing right? Have you been doing this long? I just want to be sure." Pilot's semi-sarcastic reply, delivered with a smile: "Oh yes. About two whole weeks.

While up in the clouds: "Down! Let's go down. Down is good. Down is a great idea." Lady, I don't know about you, but I didn't pay €150 for "down." We all paid for up.

Here's the clincher. The pilot attempts to reassure her with a few facts about flying. Her response: "Oh no, I know all about flying. I fly Cessnas. Back home in Arizona I fly planes all the time." WHUUUT? Then why the heck would you be nervous about—oh, never mind! I'm 30 now, I can't afford to create any more wrinkles.

For a blissful, soaring hour and a half, this hot air balloon ride made me feel like I was in heaven. Too bad I had to share it with the traveler from hell!

Suspense

2011-11-08T10:38:00.000+01:00

It's way past time I started blogging about my trip to Turkey. Yesterday I started drafting a post about the very first thing I did on my 30th birthday, which also happened to be my very first morning in Turkey. But I realized it was just not working as a blog post: too many words and too many photos.

So I'm working on something a little more special for the blog. In the meantime, I leave you with a hint of suspense.

Marlon and I arrived in Goreme, in the central Anatolian region of Cappadocia, at midnight. It took a flight from Istanbul and an hour-long road trip in near pitch-darkness. And when we got there, this was all we could see from the doorstep of our hotel room. Spooky.

Ano ang nasa dakong paroon? Like we did, you'll have to wait till the next morning to find out.

A (birthday) gift that keeps on giving

2011-11-06T16:00:00.004+01:00

My wonderful husband has once again proved that he knows me so well. How? By getting me a birthday gift that I absolutely love.

Want to know what Marlon's gift was? I'll give you three clues. These three pictures all have something to do with it.

Any guesses? See if you're right after the jump!

Nope, Marlon's birthday gift was not an evil eye pendant, a paisley shawl or a juicer. What those three photos have in common is that they were taken with my awesome new toy... a Canon EF 50mm f/1.8 II lens!

The 50mm f/1.8 II lens is a fixed focus lens, also known as a prime lens. Fixed focus means exactly what it says on the tin: you can't change the focus, i.e. zoom in or out. That's not what this lens is about. What it is about, is a low f-stop number (1.8), which translates to a larger aperture and shallower depth of field.

To put it in four simple words: blurry background, sharp subject. Those four words make all the difference in a portrait or detail (macro) shot.

Prime lenses are also also sharper than variable focus (or zoom) lenses, making that contrast between blurry background and sharp subject even better.

Take this photo, for example. I was caught not by the woman, but by the gooeyness of the sweets she was serving up. The sharpness of this prime lens plus its shallow depth of field are great for blurring her (and the other servers) into the background and highlighting the sticky, shiny drips of syrup.

I do have to get used to carrying more than one lens, and quickly switching lenses on the go. But that's part of the package and I'm happy to do it. Though I love my current wide-angle lens to bits, achieving shallow depth of field was definitely one of its weaknesses.

Now that I have this new lens, a whole new world has opened up to me. Surprisingly, it's not shooting photos of food... but of people.

As I've mentioned before, I'm terribly shy about shooting photos of people. I always felt as if taking out my camera with its big-ass wide-angle lens was like switching on a glaring red neon sign and activating a loud warning siren. ALERT! ALERT! YOU ARE BEING PHOTOGRAPHED!

This new lens enables me to be more discreet. For one thing, it's a lot smaller, so it's much less obtrusive. The fixed 50mm focus length allows me to stand a comfortable distance away from my subject and still get a good shot... without getting in someone's face.

As you can probably tell, I'm loving my birthday gift. And you can see from these photos, Turkey was the perfect place to take my new baby for our first ride.

Interested in learning more about fixed focus/prime lenses? Here's a helpful article on zoom vs. prime lenses. Happy reading!

When graduates create

2011-11-05T16:48:00.001+01:00

Another event I didn't want to miss at Dutch Design Week was the graduation show by the students of the Design Academy Eindhoven. At the entrance, each visitor was given a yellow arrow sticker and invited to vote for their favorite design by placing the sticker on a voting wall at the end of the exhibit.

With so many creative ideas on display, choosing a favorite was tough! Plus I dropped my sticker, so Marlon and I only had one vote between the two of us. Still, even having two stickers to vote with would not have made the choice much easier.

Now, if I had five stickers, that would be have been so much easier. So I'll just pretend I had five stickers, and award them to my five favorite projects right here on my blog. Problem solved!

Check them out after the jump:

1) Forgotten Memory. I was first drawn to Jetske Visser's project by this installation: a mass of soft, translucent crockery made out of some kind of paper-thin, pliable rubber or plastic. Something about their fragility was so arresting, I just had to take a closer look.

Jetske's main project was a film designed to reflect on dementia, a degenerative loss of brain function that affects memory, thinking, language, judgment and behavior. The teapots and teacups were meant to represent the "hazy, fragile and precarious existence" of people suffering from dementia. They may look solid, but fall apart with the lightest touch.

The images in Jetske's short film were so powerful, that it took less than a minute for me to be moved to tears. One of the most heartbreaking images was of a dementia patient asked to draw a clock. Patients suffering from severe dementia are no longer able to perform basic everyday functions and recognize everyday things. With every stroke, you just knew it was wrong, wrong, wrong... and it was heartbreaking that she didn't.

A split-second pause right before the patient penciled in the arrow communicated volumes. She knew there had to be an arrow in a clock. And you just knew, in that moment, it had hit her: she couldn't fathom how the arrow worked or where it went. What is a clock when you no longer know what a clock is?

Such brave and moving work from a student. I don't know if I would have had the courage to spend so much time in such a dark place.

2) The Synergy of Colour. Yannic Alidarso created a bare elm wood cabinet meant to be colored using natural pigments—from leaves, grass or any organic material that the owner collects himself. How cool is that?

I had a chat with the student designer himself and learned that it took two weeks for this six-inch strip of color to be fed into the wood. ("Now do the math for the rest of the cabinet!" he said with a laugh.) I suck at math, but I can imagine how beautiful and unique it would look over the changing of the seasons. Now that's a creative way to bring the outdoors in.

3) House Wine. On a break from school, Sabine Marcelis returned to her native New Zealand, where her family has equipment for making wine at home. After going through the wine-making process, she wondered: "The process is so beautiful. But why does the equipment have to be so ugly?" Which is how she came up with this beautiful installation.

Yes, it really does make wine. However, it's not bulky or ugly; in fact, it's a design object elegant enough to keep in the living room instead of being relegated to the garage. It actually made me want to start making wine at home. And the writer in me loved the name House Wine. Clever!

4) Marlon and I awarded our single sticker to the designer of this wooden catamaran. I didn't keep any of my notes on this, unfortunately. Basically, it's a catamaran with sleeping quarters, bathroom, kitchen and a deck for seeing the outdoors while floating down the river.

I would love to see something like this in the Philippines. Don't we need more classy design options for sightseeing? I can totally imagine it floating down the beautiful, pristine Loboc River in Bohol. Class na class!

5) Quasi-Mode. Textile design student Ziv Ben Gal explored the relationship between ugliness and beauty by creating fabrics filled with imperfections. What looks appealing at first turns out to be seriously flawed upon closer inspection.

Why the name Quasi-Mode? The collection is a tribute to the hunchback of Notre Dame. I can't resist cleverness with words, really.

An honorable mention goes to Reasons to Rethink by Michael Kluver. He redesigned Euro bills with illustrations of his own, turning currency into a crystal ball that warns of chaos and collapse if the weaknesses of the Eurozone's monetary system are not addressed.

I can't seem to remember ever being this creative or clever when I was a fresh graduate. But I sure do remember being a hell of a lot skinnier.

Dutch Design Week

2011-11-04T23:27:00.001+01:00

It was one year ago when the possibility of moving to the Netherlands finally became real for Marlon and myself. I distinctly remember that it was Dutch Design Week (DDW) then. Back then, I was giddy at the prospect of simply being able to attend DDW and surround myself with so much creativity. Marlon calls this event one of the deal sweeteners that helped us decide to go for it. To think we're not even in the design industry!

So even if we were going to be out of town for most of the week, it was important not to miss it entirely. Thus an entire Sunday was devoted to trekking south to Eindhoven, the home of Dutch Design Week.

It's hard to capture such a huge experience in one blog post. But I thought hard about the five things that stood out the most about my visit to DDW. And here they are, in no particular order, after the jump:

Magnitude and mix. Because of its scale, DDW covers pretty much every area of design you can think of. From concept to process, home furnishings to urban planning, industrial scale production to individual ateliers, you name it. The big boys are definitely there—quite literally, in fact, as you can see from this concept ATV by Mercedes Benz.

But keeping pace alongside the big names are the quiet ones: the one-man shops like that of Ilias Ernst, who designed this lighting fixture inspired by the pipes and tubes of a gas refinery. And as we all know, it's the quiet ones you have to watch out for.

Devil in the details. Even when we took a break from all this wonderful creativity and design, there were plenty of design details to see and enjoy. For example, check out this inverted lightbulb vase at one of the snack bars in the Klokgebouw, the main exhibition venue. Clever and cute!

Even getting to another venue became a design experience with Mini Design Rides. Who wants to walk when you can get a chauffeur to drive you in a Mini Cooper? Our short ride reminded me of two things: I really miss being driven around in a car, and I really wouldn't mind driving my own Mini!

Kids everywhere. I must admit this both warmed the cockles of my heart and turned me an envious shade of green. It seems taking your kids to DDW is normal in these parts. Instead of taking the kids to a mall or leaving them with yaya, giving kids a design education becomes a real option for parents. Good on those who seize that opportunity. Can you imagine being what this exposure to design, creativity and out-of-the-box thinking at such a tender age can do for inquisitive young minds?

At DDW, I saw so many children running, playing, exploring and questioning. As the Dutch would say, wat leuk! (What fun!) Kids can learn that drawers don't always have to line up straight and that a spade can also be a chair... and more importantly, that making a living in design is possible (and not completely crazy). I wonder how many kids who grew up going to Dutch Design Week ended up embarking on a career in a creative industry?

Getting to know Etsy. Have you ever bought any handmade goodies from Etsy? I have. I also love browsing through it for inspiration. Recently, I've thought about changing my relationship with this inspiring online marketplace by becoming not just a consumer, but a seller. (Cue lightning and thunder. Yes, that's a rather big pronouncement.) So I was really pleased to attend a short talk by the European director of Etsy and learn about what they are doing for the sellers on the site.

The Etsy booth at DDW was a showcase of talent from some of the site's Dutch sellers. Dropping by the booth allowed me to meet some people from the Etsy community in the Netherlands... and got me excited about joining that community soon.

If you can't make it, buy it. At the DDW shop, I scored the sweet early birthday gift you saw in my previous post. This rubber collar is from the "Out of Office" collection (designed with ordinary office supplies!) by conceptual jewelry designers Hartog & Henneman.

I loved how it looked like handwritten marks made with a Magic Marker/Sharpie/Pentel Pen (choose the felt-tipped pen reference most relevant to you, haha). And it certainly didn't hurt that it went perfectly with that day's monochromatic outfit. Sold!

For a non-design industry person such as myself, this was the best part about all this fabulous design: getting to take some of it home!

Let's get this party started

2011-10-24T23:55:00.000+02:00

Last week was insanely packed (in a good way) and there's still so much I have to blog about. But that will have to wait, because *happy dance* it's my birthweek!

Marlon sure knows how to get a party started, at least in my book. He kicked off my birthday celebration by treating me to a little somethin'-somethin' at Dutch Design Week in Eindhoven.

And that is your sneak peek at Dutch Design Week. That's about all I can manage for now, but there will be more (lots more) when I get back. Promise.

In the meantime, I'm taking off to celebrate The Big 3-0 with a long-awaited trip to Istanbul. I'm excited to be crossing another big one off my lifelong travel wishlist. Ta ta for now and see you next week!

Date night

2011-10-24T12:27:00.002+02:00

One of the things I loved about summer was the fact that the days seemed to never end. The sun would set as late as 10 p.m., and you would get lovely "late afternoon" light like this at 7 or 8 p.m.

These days, the sun sets earlier each day. The photo above was taken a little before 6 p.m. The sun disappears from the sky by around 6:30.

But you know what? Part of me actually welcomes the return of night.

I only realized that when Marlon and I went out to for dinner and a movie one Friday night. It was a nice change, because we don't eat out as much as we used to. Dining out here tends to be expensive, which is never a guarantee that it's going to be good. We also tend to stay home a lot to save up for, or recover from, travels.

We went to Rainarai, an Algerian resto on the Prinsengracht bordering the Jordaan.

The atmosphere of this small corner restaurant is eclectic and laid-back, with quirky details like these schoolhouse chairs with African motifs drawn on them.

Service is turo-turo style. As Marlon and I were talking about how it reminded us of home, the girl behind the counter asked us if we were Filipino. Turned out she had visited the Philippines while backpacking around Southeast Asia. She said that of all the places she had visited on her six-month trip, her favorite by far was the Cordilleras: Banaue, Batad, Benguet and Sagada. Wow. To think I've never been to those places myself.

We ate dinner by candlelight while watching the sunset reflected on the windows of the canal houses. And that was when I realized I actually missed nightfall.

While walking to the movie theater, we passed the fairgrounds set up in front of the Royal Palace on Dam Square. We looked at the Ferris wheel and thought: "Hey, this is something we've never done together!" So we did.

We had lots of time to spare before the movie, so instead of having dessert or lounging around in the cinema lobby, we decided to take a walk. It turned out to be a wonderful idea. Because we don't very often go out in the evenings, I still find myself so surprised and delighted by how magical Amsterdam can become at night.

We strolled around the narrow streets and canals in the Centrum, or old center. When I think of the old center, I think red light district and coffee shops, so I rarely go there except to take visitors to see it. Otherwise, sex and weed is not a big draw for me.

But night can blot out all that, and it takes on a different character. Shadows soften and hide, and night lights flatter a city's face.

A darkened shop window turns into a mystery that beckons us to take a closer look.

The play of light and shadow can make almost anything lovely, almost poetic. In the daytime, would we have stopped to look?

Little red sparkling hood

2011-10-22T11:00:00.121+02:00

The color red seems to be everywhere these days. It's taking over buildings and apartments...

... and popping out of bushes. I didn't realize so many of the trees and plants I see around me everyday would suddenly produce these bright red berries come fall. Yes, I'm a fall newbie.

All this red percolating in my subconscious came to a boil one afternoon after watercolor class. As I was walking through the centre of Haarlem, I was drawn to another jolt of red—this time in the form of a big SALE sign at WE, a local high street chain. Inside, I found this red dress with a skinny belt and promptly realized: I don't own a single article of red clothing!

With 50% off everything in the store, it was easy to remedy the situation. So now I have a red dress.

I remember reading somewhere that red and leopard print go together, so it seems my leopard print flats have found a new playmate. But so far my favorite way to wear bright red has been with gray. I've worn it with my gray wool blazer from Uniqlo (above) to go to my weekly ladies' lunch, and with a gray fluffy angora cardigan for a Sunday visit to the zoo.

I've also found a new use for the bronze beaded fascinator I like to wear with this dress. It turns out a headband is perfect for keeping the hood of my rain jacket in place when it's too windy for an umbrella.

I got a few odd looks on the street, but I shrugged them off. Sparkling in the rain is worth it!

A pop of (water)color

2011-10-21T12:46:00.003+02:00

I'm usually pretty impatient when it comes to making things. If it can't be done in one sitting, I tend to rush it or just give up altogether. So I consider it a big achievement to have spent three consecutive Tuesdays working on a painting for my watercolor class. I finished it last week, left it to dry in my teacher's studio in Haarlem, and finally brought it home!

This is the first painting that I've produced out of this class that I enjoyed doing from start to finish and am really, truly happy with. My first few lessons were a little awkward and unsure; with this work, I feel I've hit my stride and grown in confidence and technique.

I've gotten quite a few compliments from Penny on this, and it's been great to walk into the studio on Tuesday afternoons and find my other classmates—my geriatric barkada, LOL—gathered around my work and talking enthusiastically about it.

My favorite bits are the flowers, naturally. I love how the red flowers really pop, thanks to the contrast of the dark green around it. (I think I'm getting better with contrast!) I did the pink flowers by dipping a rough natural sponge in some green paint and blotting it quickly on a wet, watered-down red wash.

Penny remarked that my style is turning out to be more illustrative than painterly—nothing wrong with that, just a matter of style. To help soften the whole painting, she suggested painting over the stark white background with a quick wash of pale green blurred with lots of water.

Voila, the finished work!

Do you like it? Tell me what you think!

Fall uniform

2011-10-19T23:54:00.001+02:00

If I hadn't moved to Amsterdam, I would never have realized that I had a raincoat-shaped hole in my wardrobe. After getting soaked in the rain one stormy August night and getting sick the week following that, I decided that "summer" was as good a time as any to buy a rain jacket.

The most important criteria: it had to have a hood, be waterproof, and cover my legs at least partially. It took a couple of afternoons combing the shops, I found this navy blue McG rain jacket at De Bijenkorf. I chose it for the semi-tailored preppy feel, as well as for the soft jersey lining and the cute little grosgrain belt that ties in a bow at my waist. I spent more on it than I had hoped to, but I felt better forking over the moolah knowing I'd get lots of wear out of this jacket.

And I was right. This jacket already feels like a uniform, with all the rain we've had here. Although I must say I felt slightly odd wearing it out for the first time. It just didn't seem very... well, very me. Even Marlon gave a thoughtful hmmm the first time he saw me in it.

This is my template outfit these days. I've gotten used to the rain jacket; I figure feeling "slightly odd" is a million times better than feeling downright cold, wet and miserable. Now that the temperature is on a steady downward trend, I've replaced my usual black stretchy cotton leggings with fleece leggings from HEMA, which feel awesome—like my legs are getting a nice warm hug.

The other part of my fall uniform is these brogue-slash-granny boots I scored on my day trip to Maastricht. They reminded me of the brown granny boots I used to own, which my mom brought back from Europe in the heyday of grunge. Ah, the Nineties.

Except my old granny boots didn't have the brogue-ish look of this pair, nor did they have this combination of black, brown and gray leather. Now resisting a pair of boots is always hard for me. But boots that go with everything? Oh hell yes.

Besides, it's fall. Lots of rain, getting cold and all that. I'm just being practical. Right?

Pale October

2011-10-18T00:00:00.001+02:00

Now that I've finally let go of September, it's time to say hello to my first official fall!

Though autumn is known for its bright and fiery palette, I welcomed the start of the season with uncharacteristically muted hues.

When I spotted this bouquet of pale, almost dusty lavender roses at the corner bloemenwinkel (flower shop), I simply couldn't resist. I've never seen roses this shade before.

Flowers are one of the things I really love about living in Holland. On days that are just totally bleargh, they are a small, but very welcome reminder that here, something new, interesting and different is always—sometimes literally—just around the corner.

A toast to September

2011-10-17T13:14:00.001+02:00

I know, I know. October is halfway done and here I am posting about September.

I still have a bit of a hangover from last month. Although fall had officially begun in September, we were blessed with what is known as an Indian summer: two straight weeks of seasonally misplaced, blissfully warm and sunny weather that stretched all the way into the first couple of days of October. It was the summer Amsterdam didn't have. The whole city felt positively festive, like it was drunk on sunshine. Para silang nanalo sa giyera.

The last weekend before autumn weather officially kicked in was absolute bliss. Marlon and I hosted a dinner at home, with four other expat couples. It was actually warm enough to have cocktails on the balcony, so my friend Leigh suggested we make mojitos. The next day, it was so warm and muggy and lazy that we dragged our air mattress onto the balcony, sprawled out with some books, and made a couple more mojitos with the leftover ingredients from the previous evening. Mmmm.

Here's what I learned from Leigh's mojito tutorial:

Into a tall glass, put two teaspoons white sugar, a handful of fresh mint leaves, a little slosh of white rum (we used Bacardi) and two lime wedges, or half a lime cut into two. Crush the lime wedges until juice comes out (I used an ice cream scooper!). Fill with soda water and ice. Clink glasses and enjoy.

I'm raising my glass to September—you were absolutely, unexpectedly fantastic. Cheers!

Getting the boot

2011-10-14T18:30:00.006+02:00

Have you ever realized you had a completely blank schedule on a beautiful, sunny Saturday and thought to yourself: "Omigod! It's absolutely perfect! Today is the day! We can finally get the boot!"

Probably not. But that's because you didn't know that boot is the Dutch word for boat!

In this city of canals, one of the most popular weekend pastimes is boating. With large cushions and blankets lining the deck, wine glasses in hand, in their preppy-chic Ralph Lauren/Tommy Hilfiger-type sailing getups (on cloudy days) or shirtless (on sunny days), a fluffy dog or two peeking out from the prow, the Dutch are experts in taking cozy chic to the canals. And yes, many of them actually own their own boats. I've seen so many happy Dutchies on boats since spring that I've developed an entirely new form of envy... boat envy.

I've actually had a standing reservation at Mokumboot, a boat rental company two blocks from my house, since April. Weather had been so uncooperative, especially through our crappy rainy summer, that I feared I would never get to use it. Whenever I had the odd sunny day in my sights, boats would get fully booked up a week in advance.

But September gave us a stunning gift: a rare, two-week stretch of blissful sunshine and good vibes. So on one glorious Sunday morning, the planets aligned. And we could finally, finally get the damn boot.

Marlon and I showed up at the Mokumboot dock at 11 in the morning to pick up our boat. I actually got us out of the driveway, so to speak before handing the wheel to my college friend Jec. She moved here with her boyfriend KD for work, and I'm lucky to have a Pinay friend I already know pretty well!

Steering is not as easy as the Dutchies make it look. You need to keep the steering wheel going pretty much continuously, constantly going back and forth between left and right, to keep the boat going in a straight line. Also, being an electric boat as opposed to a gas-fueled boat, our top speed was pretty pathetic. But it was all good. We were all just ridiculously excited to finally be on a boat!

Jec's boyfriend KD took over as captain of the ship for the first half of our four-hour boat ride. Marlon got started chilling the wine...

... while I unpacked our picnic basket, filled with snacks for grazing: chips, cheese, olives, bread and a highly addictive truffle tapenade from the Albert Cuypmarkt.

I also served up a vegetarian lunch of fusilli with roasted broccoli and walnuts.

We set off from the Olympic quarter, which is our neighborhood, in the direction of Amsterdam's famous canal belt. Along the way, autumn waved its cheery greeting from the apartments of the Old South.

Passing the Rijksmuseum, or the national museum, was a signpost telling us to expect very busy waters up ahead.

As soon as we hit the busy Leidseplein area, huge tourist boats started coming at us from every direction. Boat police patrol these busier waterways in the center of town.

It's not unlike being a student driver and finding yourself on the South Super Highway-Sucat interchange for the first time. Except everything moves much more slowly, you have no idea how people will signal for turns, and collisions with large vessels will be documented by the sound of fifty cameras clicking. Chalk that last bit up to experience.

Having run the stressful gauntlet that was Leidseplein, our entry into the famous Grachtengordel, or canal belt, was rewarded with some postcard views... like this one along Prinsengracht. The Anne Frank House lies just behind Westerkerk, on the right.

Sailing along all four major canals that encircle Amsterdam's old center—Singel, Herengracht, Keizersgracht, and Prinsengracht—is something that pretty much all tourist boats do on the standard canal tour. But many of them won't bother into the smaller canals intersecting these major waterways—which, shaded with trees and lined with cafes, have a quiet charm that made all of us breathe more deeply and contentedly.

Heading even further away from tourist territory, we took our little boat into the tiny canals of the Jordaan. Formerly home to Amsterdam's working-class immigrants, this neighborhood is now one of the hippest (and most expensive) places to live in the city. Its narrow canals are off-limits to the big tourist boats.

And as we came up to this alarmingly low bridge, we all realized why.

Marlon turned off the engine. Drifting ever so slowly toward the bridge gave the four of us time to ponder a short list of possible fates, which consisted of a) getting stuck, and b) sailing clean through.

"We're going to get stuck!" cried Jec. "No, I think we'll make it," I objected, discreetly grabbing my phone and tapping out the first few digits of the Mokumboot helpline... just in case I was wrong.

Drawn to our obvious (and by now, rather loud) distress, an old man in a battered coat tottered up to the bridge. "Geen problem," he said with an amused grin and a vaguely encouraging wave of his hand. "No problem!"

"O, no problem daw sabi ni lolo! He must know what he's talking about, right? He's Dutch!" I said.

Asserting the ultimate faith in the innate goodness of humankind, Marlon switched the engine back on to its lowest setting. Which left nothing else for us to do but plaster ourselves to the floor of the boat and laugh like hyenas on crack.

It was the longest minute of my Amsterdam life.

As we emerged, laughing hysterically, nerves shredded but boat and bumbunans intact, lolo waving cheerfully from the bridge, I knew we had just made another awesome Amsterdam memory.

We sure could have used one of these, though!

Apart from our hilarious/harrowing encounter with the bridge, plus an unexpected stretch of large choppy waves on the Overtoomse Sluis, it was smooth sailing all the way home.

Water seems to be the Dutch element. They seem happier, warmer, more relaxed and more gracious in their boats. People in passing boats will joke with each other, like this dad who played at throwing his squealing toddler over to us. Naturally, we pretended to prepare to catch the little boy. Everyone smiles and waves at each other, sharing good vibes in passing.

We might not share the confidence or adeptness with which this boat-loving culture navigates the waters. That can only come from a relationship with the water that begins from childhood, and is woven into the very history of a people.

But the sunshine sparkling on the water, the sound of the water lapping gently against the boat, the calming stillness in in its movement—these are available to all.

So though we are not adept in the intricacies of boat and water, we can partake in their pleasures... even just for a little while.

Library love

2011-10-09T21:08:00.001+02:00

I love libraries. So I don't know why it took me eight whole months to finally haul my ass down to the Openbare Bibliotheek Amsterdam (OBA), or the Amsterdam Public Library.

At 28,000 square meters, the Central Library down by Centraal (no, that is not a typo) Station is Europe's biggest public library. Brace yourselves for a huge photodump, because this is the most photogenic library I have ever seen in my life.

Some quick facts and figures about the OBA:

7 floors
1,375 seats (600 with computers/Internet/MS Office)
110 catalogue terminals and 26 lending machines
Underground parking for 2,000 bikes and 1,200 cars
2.5 million users and visitors annually
Awarded Amsterdam's Most Sustainable Public Building in 2008
Also houses a theatre, radio station, conference rooms, exhibition spaces, "study pods", cafe and restaurant

The library is impressive in numbers, but it's even more so when you actually visit. For a bookworm like me, stepping into the library for the first time was like walking into Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, without the impending doom of weight gain.

More than a bookworm's wonderland, though, this is everything I love about Dutch design.

Modern details everywhere, even on the couches and the floors.

Standing in the lobby, you can simply look up to see how the library is organized at a glance. It's a clever and irresistible invitation to explore.

Explore with me, after the jump.

First order of the day: borrow the assigned reading material for book club. It took me a while to find the catalogue terminals at first. I saw these iMacs all over the place but I simply didn't think to connect "library catalogue" with "Mac. But that's exactly what they are.

Love the changing words on the screensavers. (Fietst means bike, as in the verb.)

Love the way the shelves are labeled, too. (Strips mean comics.)

Wandering around the library would probably do wonders for my Dutch vocabulary. I could while away whole afternoons here.

After I found my book, it was time to check it out with mijn pas (my card).

Love the design of the lending stations. Even if you don't speak Dutch, the outlines tell you where to place uw pas (your card) and boeken (books) to be scanned for checkout. Simplicity is beauty.

Great design is just everywhere. Even in simple things like coat racks.

More than just being lovely to look at, I also found some details to be quite thoughtful. One of the details I appreciated most was the placement of solitary chairs in front of huge windows. This idea could have only come from a person knows the solitary pleasure of reading, of turning one's back on the world for a few hours to become absorbed in a book.

On the top floor is a large cafeteria-style restaurant operated by the La Place chain.

It was a beautiful, clear day so the outdoor terrace was packed.

But we couldn't leave without checking out the view.

The turquoise building to my right is NEMO, the Science Museum. The rooftop becomes a big urban "beach" in the summer—but of course from experience, I've come to learn that urban is simply a euphemism for sandless and unswimmable.

As you can see, tall buildings in Amsterdam are rare. Most of the buildings are old, and are only five, maybe six stories at the most. So this view is pretty special.

Books in hand and stomachs full, Marlon and I headed back down from the top floor...

... and made one last stop at the multimedia department on our way out.

The whole floor made me nostalgic for the days of Tower Records.

At the same time, it felt like something all too current and familiar... like an Apple store!

The architects definitely belong to the cult of Mac.

Hello cult-mates!

Isn't this the coolest librarian's desk ever?

It's made entirely from pressed sheets of cardboard.

Oh, a small aside: in the DVD section, I saw Basic Instinct right next to Horton Hears a Who. Welcome to the Netherlands, folks.

And with that we hop over to the children's section, which is in the basement.

Love all the fun elements they incorporated into the children's reading area, like making the shelves into a "fort" you can climb, and the teepee on the right. And of course, those awesome "jackstone" lights. May jackstones din kaya sila dito?

What a great way to make reading fun for kids. Then again, I never needed forts and teepees to make me enjoy reading. An awesome library always helps, though!

Easy eggplant lunch

2011-10-08T18:53:00.000+02:00

Rome backlog done. Now, back to our regular programming!

Life at home has been good. To share a little bit of my domestic bliss, I'm reposting this Giada di Laurentiis recipe for grilled eggplant and goat cheese salad. It's become my go-to lunch as of late, and it's a triple t(h)reat: healthy, yummy and easy to make.

You'll need:

Olive oil

Eggplant (1 per person), thinly sliced into rounds

Pine nuts, toasted

3 oz goat cheese, crumbled

Basil, chopped

Mint, chopped

Balsamic vinegar (I used a squeeze of lemon instead)

Salt and pepper

Place a grill pan (ours is from Ikea) over medium-high heat, or preheat a gas or charcoal grill. Drizzle olive oil over the slices of eggplant and toss to coat. Grill eggplants until tender and grill marks appear, about 3 to 4 minutes on each side.

Place the slices on a serving platter (or, if you're eating for one like me, on your plate). Sprinkle with pine nuts, goat cheese, basil and mint. Season with salt and pepper and drizzle with olive oil. Finish off with a swish of balsamic vinegar or (not and!) a squeeze of lemon.

Buon appetito!

Tasting Trastevere

2011-10-07T18:56:00.001+02:00

Just one last Rome post on my list before I get back to my life here in Holland (which has been pretty awesome lately, by the way). Still on the food trail, I simply must blog about Trastevere.

Nearly everyone I talked to who had ever been to Rome insisted that we visit Trastevere. A Roman neighborhood with narrow, winding streets that date back to medieval times, it has maintained its charm and character while becoming a local hangout and foodie hotspot filled with great restaurants and happening pubs. "You will love Trastevere," our Dutch teacher, who had lived in Rome for years, assured us.

And we did. Three of the four dinners we had in Rome, we had in Trastevere. We took pretty much the same route each time, making these stunning sunsets over the Tiber a regular affair.

For our first dinner, we headed to Dar Poeta, a pizzeria recommended by a few people on Chowhound. We got there before seven so we didn't have a hard time getting a table, but just one hour later the queue for tables was snaking all the way down the cobblestoned alley. There were quite a few tourists in the queue, but also a lot of people speaking Italian, which is always a good sign.

I ordered the Superbufala, topped with raw mozzarella bufala, black olives, tomato and pecorino cheese. Not only was I knocked out by all that glorious cheese, but the crust—somewhere between light and crisp on the bottom, chewy and soft on top—was unlike any I've ever had.

But that's not the showstopper at Dar Poeta. The Nutella and ricotta calzone is.

Ready for some food porn? This is what happens when you cut into the calzone.

The whole pillowy mass deflates, and our old friend Nutella oozes out to say buon appetito.

Another stab with the knife and fork...

Then it's ciao, ricotta! Or should I say chow?

Needless to say, we were two very satisfied customers.

The next night, we ate at Da Fabrizio, which we had seen on the way to Dar Poeta.

Da Fabrizio served what was hands down my best meal of the trip: a heaping plate of fresh, homemade pasta (which tasted so different from every pasta I'd ever had before!) with extra-virgin olive oil and shavings of black truffle. (The white truffle pasta, at €40 a plate, was simply out of my budget.)

It was so good, I lost my senses completely and forgot to take a photo of it. I did take a photo of our starter, though: slices of prosciutto from this massive porcine leg, which Fabrizio carves up himself.

On our last evening in Rome, we got lost while trying to find one of the restaurants recommended on the Chowhound forum. I went ahead of Marlon and kept taking random turns, following my gut... as in tiyan, haha. We ended up at a small piazza where this picturesque old farmhouse-style building stood. How could we pass a place like this and not want to step inside?

It turned out to be a pizzeria and taverna called the Taverna de' Mercanti.

It was huge inside, with giant wood and brick ovens.

We ate outside, of course—we wanted to enjoy the warm weather before flying back to Amsterdam. The food was average (grilled pigeon and a very good patatas al forno for Marlon, a pizza for me), but the medieval tavern atmosphere was wonderful.

Afterwards we had gelati (produzione artigianale again) while watching a street magician perform in front of the church of Santa Maria di Trastevere.

After living in Holland for a few months, the idea of an entire neighborhood where almost every restaurant is a good one sounded almost unbelievable to me. But now I know that (duh) Trastevere is real! And I'm missing it already.

iSad

2011-10-06T16:12:00.003+02:00

I was a latecomer to the Apple party. It was only three years ago, when I had first moved to Singapore and was looking for a job. I was so frustrated with how slow my old laptop took to start up. The afternoon when it took over an hour and a half reduced me to tears.

I ordered a refurbished Macbook Pro that same evening. All it took to get over the cost hurdle was the prospect of writing—more than just, my livelihood but my expression—becoming "fun, portable, inspiring and pleasurable" once again. It did. It still is.

I then became part of an industry that depended on Final Cut Pro. It was a constant in my workaday world. Before I moved to Amsterdam, I became a certified Apple Final Cut Pro user. Only last month, I did my first-ever editing job from home, all by myself.

Thank you, Steve Jobs.

How you lived your life changed not only how I feel about technology or listen to music. It changed how I do my work, earn my living and express myself.

In fulfilling your possibilities, you gave us new ones.

The world will miss you.

Rest in peace.

Rome nom nom nom

2011-10-05T21:22:00.000+02:00

After falling into a number of tasteless tourists traps during my Portugal trip, I was determined to find good eats in Rome. My online research led me to the Chowhound forums, which in turn led me to some of the best meals of my trip. Now... where do I begin?

Let's start with the first meal of the day. Nope, not breakfast... gelato!

My first meal on my first day was a cone of creamy caffe, my all-time favorite flavor (flavorite?), for just €1.50. As we were walking from our apartment to the Centro Storico, I spotted a hole-in-the-wall gelateria somewhere on the Via Lepanto, marked with the words "gelati Siciliani" and "produzione propria artigianale."

Now, Gelati originated in Sicily and foodies assert that gelati in Sicily is way different from the rest of Italy. Another tip I found around the blogosphere is to keep an eye out for gelaterias that are marked "produzione propria" (homemade), "nostra produzione" (our own production) or "produzione artigianale" (produced by artisans).

If you can't tell by the smile on my face, this gelato was the my idea of a most kick-ass benvenuti from Rome. Marlon had the cannele, or cinnamon, which was everything you would imagine cinnamon gelato to be. Not having that was probably my only regret of the entire trip!

My other memorable gelato experience was at Giolitti near the Pantheon. We stumbled on it quite by accident. It was only when I looked up Giolitti much later, that I found out it's actually Rome's oldest ice cream parlor.

The gelati guardians at Giolitti's counter will actually refuse to serve you if you order a combination of flavors that they feel do not go together at all. Fortunately, my limone e champagne combo passed their scrutiny. Unfortunately, after only a few truly intoxicating licks, the scoop of champagne dropped from my cone onto the ground. Ugh.

Thanks to Chowhound, I learned that Thursday is gnocchi day in Rome. Who are we to buck tradition? Our Lonely Planet Rome app (worth it for the offline map!) led us a few twists and turns away from the madding crowd and cheap tourist menus surrounding the Pantheon, to this unmarked trattoria for a reasonably priced meal that hit the spot.

In the same neighborhood, near the Keats-Shelley House, was the Chowhound-recommended La Campana, where I ordered (and thoroughly enjoyed!) something very out of character for me: rigatoni with oxtail. Romans love their offal—so as they say, when in Rome...

The service at La Campana was smooth and efficient, and our waiter lit up when I tried ordering with the few words of Italian I memorized on the plane.

Friendly service was also a pleasant surprise at Anti Luzzi, a tiny, family-run sidewalk trattoria near the Pantheon recommended by the owners of our B&B. At €8, their pizzas were half the price of those being sold across the street. And when I ordered a granita di caffe to cap my meal, the waiter tried to explain something to me in Italian. After seeing that I couldn't understand him, he brought me a small taste of their granita... just to make sure I liked it enough to commit to an order.

I was expecting a basic iced coffee, and got a delightfully cold (perfect for the heat!), sinfully creamy dessert. What's not to like?

Our final meal on the run was at Volpetti, a legendary gourmet deli on the Via Cola di Rienzo, a major shopping street close to St. Peter's Square and Piazza Cavour where we caught the shuttle bus to the airport. It's right next to a famous gourmet grocery called Franchi. If we hadn't been in such a rush to get to the airport, Marlon and I would have loved to spend a good hour or two browsing in these two shops. It's probably good for our wallets that we didn't!

Volpetti's system is familiar to all of us Pinoys. This is turo-turo, Roman style.

We stood at the counter to tuck in: Marlon with his porchetta (roast pork) and stuffed pomodoro tomatoes, me with my orzo (barley) alla contadina and insalata di polpo (octopus salad).

We inhaled everything in less than 15 minutes and rushed off to the airport, bellies full. If only all fast food experiences were as precious.

From Borghese to Trevi

2011-10-05T12:29:00.001+02:00

From a superturbocharged first day, our level of activity slowed down with each passing day we spent in Rome. We became less ambitious with each day's itinerary, hitting the snooze button more times and dawdling longer and longer in our blessedly cool, thick-walled, marble-tiled apartment.

So by the time our fourth day rolled around, it was nearly lunchtime by the time we set off for Villa Borghese, the sprawling gardens-turned-public park that once belonged to the powerful and wealthy Borghese family. We stopped for lunch at the Piazza del Popolo.

The Galleria Borghese was the "party house" of Scipione Borghese, a nephew of Pope Paul V. Borghese used his wealth and influence to amass a truly stunning collection of art. I was excited to finally see the works of artists I had only seen in books, such as Caravaggio, Titian, Raphael and Rubens.

Tickets for the museum need to be reserved well in advance over the phone. An Italian colleague of Marlon's had helped us call the Galleria Borghese to reserve tickets for that day's 1 to 3pm time slot. The administration is strict and will shoo everyone out after the allotted 2 hours are over.

The Galleria Borghese is simply jawdropping from the first step in. Unfortunately, photography is forbidden—but if it wasn't, I'd be all over it with my camera.

Scipione Borghese was one of the earliest patrons of master sculptor Gianlorenzo Bernini, whose signature is all over Rome. It was in Galleria Borghese that I came face to face with the true genius of Bernini. His Apollo and Daphne is, without exaggeration, the most beautifully sculpted piece of art I've ever seen in my life. I must have spent half an hour just looking at it, and could have easily stayed longer.

His Pluto and Proserpina in the next room is completely different, but just as captivating.

Photos from the Galleria Borghese website—they simply don't do them justice!

After our museum visit, Marlon and I decided to just take it easy and cool off under the shade of the trees around the Villa Borghese.

Our curiosity was piqued by the small, funny "tandem bike" buggies that rattled by us every now and then. "That looks like fun!" Marlon said. So we had to give it a try.

The buggies turned out to be electric riscios (rickshaws), that, along with regular bikes, can be rented on an hourly basis.

Marlon and I rattled around the park for a good 45 minutes or so until we spotted something so tempting, we just had to park our riscio, get down and enjoy it.

A public fountain! After four days of broiling heat and constant walking, I can't tell you what a treat it was to perch on the lip of this fountain and dip my poor footsies into this clear, ice-cold water. It is a miracle of Rome that the water in its fountains is always shockingly cold no matter how hot it gets.

I was obviously not the only one who felt this way. But I just couldn't bring myself to take it to the next level!

Refreshed and rejuvenated, we returned the riscio and headed to the Piazza Spagna, or the famous Spanish Steps, starting all the way at the top for a sweeping view...

... stopping for a photo op, naturally...

... until we ended up all the way at the bottom, with the rest of the 48,000 tourists and their mothers who were there. #mobbed

Everyone was taking photos of this fountain just because it was there, so I did too. #sheep

Just a few streets away was the great granddaddy of all fountains, the Trevi. I didn't expect it to be so... BIG!

The Trevi Fountain was completely mobbed, too. The crowd was overwhelming, so I just found an empty spot to sit down for a while before even taking a single picture. I may have lost count of how many people did the "tossing a coin into the fountain" pose, but I give all them an O for Originality!

Silent hill

2011-10-04T10:38:00.002+02:00

Palatine Hill, or the Palatino, is the oldest and centermost among the famed seven hills of Rome. In addition to some of the city's first and grandest homes, the Palatino is also where the Roman Forum—the main square around which ancient Rome's public life revolved—were built.

Part of the Palatine Hill and Roman Forum are visible from one of the city's main thoroughfares. After snapping a couple of pictures of this exposed portion, I thought I had seen the Roman Forum. I came thisclose to skipping the whole thing... which would have been highly regrettable.

Marlon and I had also considered doing a quick skip through Palatine Hill after our visit to the Colosseum. It was a good thing we didn't, because wandering through the Palatino eventually took the greater part of an afternoon.

There's a lot to wander through and absorb. Palatino is where the word palace comes from—because the earliest, truly palatial private residences of the Western world were built here, sort of like a Forbes Park (sige na nga, Upper East Side para sosyal!) of the Roman empire. The homes of the wealthiest and most powerful Romans would be considered impressive even by today's standards.

Much of what we saw on our meanderings were simply the brick understructures, devoid of ornament. Only a few fallen pillars and broken pieces of decoration remain to feed the imagination.

Imagine these walls clad in the purest, most expensive white marble, studded with carvings, mosaics and other minerals. Then imagine a whole hill full of these homes. #class

We attempted to tail an English-speaking tour group to find out as much as we could. Their guide splashed water on the pavement to reveal beautifully veined white marble. Marble sidewalks! #wow

Climbing Palatine Hill was hot work. Thankfully, the Romans built beautiful little public fountains everywhere. Many of them exist to this day, providing cool relief and drinkable water for overheated tourists.

We also sought shade under the many olive trees that dotted the hill. It was my first time to see them.

Palatine Hill encompasses both private homes and public spaces. The Stadium is one of the latter.

With just a little huffing and puffing, you get expansive views over Rome. Not just the Rome of today...

... but also the Rome of yesterday.

One of the most evocative and well-preserved spaces was the Casa delle Vestali, or the House of the Vestal Virgins.

The Vestals were priestesses of Vesta, the Roman goddess of the hearth. They lived their whole lives as virgins, tending a sacred flame that could never go out. I loved Greek and Roman mythology growing up, so being in this space was a huge thrill for me.

For my ex-debater husband, it was a special experience to walk through the place where debate itself was born. By the way, the Forum was also the birthplace of Senate. So maybe I should've put aside my heady imaginings for a second to spit on its steps. This is for Enrile! And for Bong Revilla! And—PTOOOIE! Take that for Lito Lapid!

Seeing the Temple of Saturn looming over us was like coming face to face with a giant hand that had been held up to signal end of our visit. In the rays of the setting sun, what's left of the temple regains some of its former grandeur.

Even just a fraction of a corner of a single pillar is as big as I am.

Like this fallen chunk of temple, so many forgotten fragments of art and architecture are scattered around the ruins.

Each piece makes you ache to see things as they once were. Your mind begins to work to fill in the gaps, to somehow piece together the clues that time has left behind.

To me this was the best thing about Palatine Hill: the fuel it pours into your imagination.

You really do feel like you're walking through a city. And what a beautiful, vibrant city it must have been in its day.

While its bustle and noise have been silenced, the beauty is still there, just... different.

Looking at the fragments that remain, such as in this temple, was like looking through cracks in time.

I simply wished I could fall through those cracks. But all I can really do is stay on the outside, looking in. And I promise, I will always keep looking.