Inspire Aspire - As Time is of the Essence

No matter how much of a contraption or contraction time is to anyone who has developed a wide array of passions and interests, who cultivates observation skills and childlike curiosity, who is on an expansive inner-journey of spiritual and intellectual growth, the constraints imposed by our own mortality fuel us with the desire and urgency to cram in an extra experience, a new place to visit, another ponder and wonder.

To accommodate a spot of travel into the constraints imposed by timescales of our own device, and those imposed by work and social obligations. To contract space and time into a balancing act of a mutually-beneficial arrangement. Time-saving gadgets have come into their own to simplify modern life, yet with a curse attached. They keep life connected to the time-wasting curse of the social media vortex and those other internet distractions and temptations, thus turning time-saving procedures into time wasters to the soft-willed, easily-distracted and the unfocused - and even the more disciplined of us may lapse at times. Here's five pointers to keep in mind in order to stay on track:

1. Keep internet interactions to a minimum (i.e. no idle browse and/ or aimless chats). Time your time online if need be.
2. As a result of (1), streamline your online activities, including your blog reading list. Make sure to keep Lifestyle with Attitude on your radar!
3. Get a good clock, of the conspicuous kind (see below) and hang it where it will catch your eye, so as to keep track of time and make it resourceful.
4. Downgrade (Upgrade!) most of your online activities to offline, and rediscover the paper, design and lay-out experience of 'physical' books all over again! Put the keyboard aside and put pen to paper.
5. Make sure your booklist (4) will include books that help you make the best use of your time (see below)!

Source: (1) Concentric Flora Green Scalloped Porcelain Plate Clock by Angus & Celeste. (2) Teaser to (3) '36 Hours Latin America & The Caribbean', part of the 36 Hours collection by The New York Times, edited by Barbara Ireland and published by Taschen. (4) Citix60 Berlin, 60 Local Creatives Bring You the Best of the City, published by Viction:ary, and available to purchase directly from the publisher, or from selected retail outlets like Anthropologie.

A Candid Account of Cabin Fever

I live on an island and this gets people curious. A few friends and acquaintances from the mainland asked me what that felt like, and before I could get a word in edgeways, would muse: 'You lucky thing, must be so much fun! Always a beach close by, and the weather's so fine! Every day's a holiday... No stress, no nuthin!' - They're so sweet that I don't even feel like breaking a little taboo to them...

(Via Tumblr)

The last thing I want is spoil the island life cliché because it actually encapsulates some charmful elements of truth: the quality of life that is specific to islands, closeness/ intimacy to nature and a certain cosiness and security brought about by the scaled-down distances. And yes (in my case), the year-round beach holiday feeling. However this is not all pink hearts and fluffy clouds. Unless you were born with a silver spoon or enjoy the financial security brought by acquired wealth, you will still feel the stress engendered by the need to make a living and get creative in a challenging marketplace, with tough economic conditions to boot, exacerbated by the geographical, physical and commercial limitations of the island.

Then to the tough challenge of finding permanent employment, establishing a business model that yields a revenue beyond the tourist season, or finding a sustainable niche, all of those under the auspices of the local close-knit diaspora (a tough one, this one!), you will likely have cabin fever to deal with, a condition that is not readily discussed out in the open, as it might be wrongly perceived by some as a sign of weakness or some mental disorder. Therefore the chic and glamour and dilettante of island living as purported by the likes of Condé Nast Traveller and Coastal Living do not *in reality* come as intrinsic universal island privileges.

Oak Bluffs Cottage, via Remodelista (photography by Julian Wass)

Seasoned residents and born-and-breds have (had) to deal with cabin fever. It has reached the more select corners of the Bahamas, Mustique, Madeira, Capri, Santorini, Mauritius or Tahiti, in fact all of the isles. Cabin fever is part and parcel of island life, and the smaller the isle, the more acute the 'fever' - I find. Cabin fever manifests cyclically, mostly outside the tourist season (personally I experience it around the equinox season, October-November and February-March time), when you find yourself at odds with your surroundings, stuck in isolation, in the tiny villages and resorts, the same ol' town, the same ol' faces, the same ol' stories that do the rounds, the same ol' repeated patterns, the pettiness of it all.

You feel restricted and it gets claustrophobic, the physical cut-off from mainland and the rest of world gets too much. There's a feeling of powerlessness, no escape, cut off from the buzz of 'real life' as portrayed outside the confines, the imposed protectiveness of the island vs. the hustle and bustle of the cities, the vastness of the regions and continents out there. You feel spaced out (as in not in touch with the reality of the world at large), locked in your own little world, like you live on a grain of sand. The energy is trapped on an island, it swishes around and goes round in circles and you may start going round in circles in your head! You are bound to turn introspective, reflective and nostalgic. A certain weariness and boredom set in. Some might experience an impression of hibernation, being kept on hold, waiting/ pining for something good to happen.

(Via Tumblr)

Gala Darling has aired a few times how cut off from the world she felt when living in New Zealand, and from other sources, I understand that cabin fever over there is due to its geographical seclusion from the rest of the world. Interestingly too, a friend from California who spent a few years in NYC told me how claustrophic she felt there, describing it as a world all to itself, 'a self-centred, navel-gazing island cut off from the rest of the US', and with an insular mentality... From there on, let's extrapolate further. How about those intense and exclusive family, friend or love relationships, where any sense of personal freedom is suffocated? Those may bring in the cabin fever. And the pinnacle of cabin fever, at the exact point that bears its stigma, and pushed to the extreme by the creep masters, with Stephen King who turned it into his trademark. Did you ever wonder that in The Shining, writer Jack Torrance (portrayed by Jack Nicholson on film) was suffering from a psychotic form of cabin fever?

But eh, don't let it put you off! There are ways to circumnavigate the pitfalls of cabin fever. First and foremost, the wonders of the digital age mean that nowadays we find ourselves no further than one click away from the buzz of the world. Secondly, if you have time on your hands, it is best to keep busy (especially in the bleaks of winter) and cultivate at least one hobby that you are passionate about and that will take your mind off the daily grind. Get acquainted with self-help techniques like meditation in order to deal with the troughs of energy, and to alleviate symptoms of melancholy. Take regular trips outside your island, go visit friends and relatives. Just don't keep all your eggs in one basket, all your focus on your little isle!

'Kangaroo Island Sailboat', via Coastal Vintage

As your person of choice to discuss all things cabin fever, I am much more than a casual islander. In fact, I am pretty acquainted with island life as a whole, clocking over 20 years of it: Corsica (4 years), British Isles (16 years), Greek islands, Cuba (and the Cayos), and - last but not least - a tourist trip to San Francisco's notorious Alcatraz! I don't recall cabin fever as such when living in the British Isles, despite the British reputation for their insular mentality (and for their economic model to stand halfway between two continents!).

You understand where I've come from for the purpose of this article: although it is not that clear-cut, cabin fever is not strictly confined to the small islands. I will deduct from my observations that cabin fever is a state of mind, irrespective of location. You are likely to experience it in the middle of the Australian outback, on a poxy little dot on the Indian Ocean, in the throbbing heart of the Big Apple or to get up, close and personal with it in 'the comfort of' your own town or village.

If it does get unbearable on the island, it is best to pack up, spread your wings out and fly off to new shores, to feel the contrast and judge for yourself where it is you truly belong in your heart of hearts. Sometimes all you have to do is leave in order to better come back. Maybe you are too close for comfort and all it takes for you is to find your purpose, embark upon a journey of self-discovery, realise what makes you tick, what drives you, and then make it happen. As for I, as much as I know I won't be island-bound for ever, I might as well try to make the most of a beach life while I'm here.

My mum and Tickle (my little doggie) on our way to the local beaches...

A Tribute to Nelson Mandela

Nelson Mandela passed away peacefully a few days ago, aged 95. Peace had been his disarming strength and an inspiration to all of us. Starting off a young promising lawyer with the wrong skin colour, he - like Martin Luther King - had had a dream of a better world.

Nelson Mandela (pict source: Getty)

Mandela disapproved of the apartheid instored in his home country of South Africa and, as a result of his 'subversive' ideas on peace and freedom, was sent off to a penitentiary where he would serve 27 years for 'the crime' of defending race equality between white and black and the educational and work rights they deserved. Mandela would be made to break rocks as punishment, yet his spirit would remain unbroken. Eventually international pressure got the better off the government in place and the president bowed under pressure to free Madiba (as he was affectionately known as) - and the rest is a piece of history immortalised.

'365 Days of Hand Lettering : Day 167' by Lisa Congdon

Mandela could have harboured resentment and angst and revenge as he came out a free man in a country that had taken away his civil rights and a big chunk of his life, but he arose a hero, humble, reflective, wise, sporting a contagious smile and grand ideas for his country. His life took a turn for the better, as the new president of his home country, winner of the Peace Nobel Prize, and a living model of unity and equality, transcending racial origins, religious views, political afflilations, as he would rub shoulders with heads of state from British royalty to Bill Clinton via Fidel Castro. He would meet up with The Dalai Lama, The Pope, and 'A' List celebrities would come visit him.

Nelson Mandela became a symbol of redemption and reconciliation and the example par excellence that if you believe in and defend your ideas strongly enough, no hurdle will stop you.

Misguided by the Guide

Take the average holidaymaker. Give them a holiday guide. The paperback kind. What do you get? A long wondering thought... A thought that says something down the lines of how was it like before the holidaymaker and the holiday guide became an item?

'The Sleeping Gypsy' by Henri Rousseau (1897), via MoMA

Ninety seven percent of visitors to our garden preservation society come on their guide's recommendation. Whether said guide is called Guide du Routard, Lonely Planet, Rough Guides or else. Wow! That's big business! You just secretly hanker after the thought that they did a Lonely Planet guide to the cool blogs out there and hey presto yours would turn popular in no time, generating cool advertising revenue in the process and liberating you from the constraints of the day job for the lucrative joys of the dilettante!

If you titillate the inquisitive side of life like La Baguette, you'll even start wondering what happened to the spirit of holiday adventure pioneered by our elders who went on vacation before guides had been made compulsory or at least before they became diluted down the mainstream like they now have. I'm not exactly an elder, yet my idea of a holiday has never involved the safety of a guide either, telling you in different levels of subjectivity where to go, where not to go, what to see, what not to see, what to eat and what not to eat. Rather a holiday needs to conjure up an adventure, a personal experience, a trip on the edge of the unexpected in all good measure. I wouldn't be daft enough as to encourage blissful ignorance and choose to get lost in the Borneo jungle or ramble carefree across Nicaragua!

'Mist-covered valley, Corsica', by Stéphane Victor, © Lonely Planet Images 2011

With me by your side, you don't want to look like your average tourist. You make sure you take your tickets, your wallet and passport and a good map. If you wanna feel smart, maybe trek down the local library prior to departure to soak in the flavour of the place to be visited, yet generally have faith in your own streetwise approach and capabilities as an explorer and authenticity-seeker, mastering those positive energy vibes in the process! Because what would go wrong if you did miss out on that holiday guide?

A few years back I travelled to Havana, Cuba, with nothing more than a very succinct pocket guide (thirty pages of it if that, and mostly pictorial!) and just planned my stay once I was there. I didn't miss out on anything a holiday guide might offer. In fact, my days were action-packed and the only time I ever glanced at the pocket guide was on the outbound flight from London, albeit distracted by the airline entertainment on tap, from the irrelevance of Miss Congeniality to the more topical Buena Vista Social Club pet sounds seeping through my headphones.


Buena Vista Social Club, via Amazon

I repeated the pattern with California! This time I only packed two simplified fold-out downtown maps of Santa Barbara and San Francisco and bobbed down the 101 like a local, with that Californian carefreeness. When in Rome, do as the Romans do... If I wanted to see the real Cali, man, I made sure I'd stay clear of the holiday guides. Simple as.

Back to our garden preservation society, the holidaymakers I have seen lately come accompanied by the guide, whose contents they all seem so evangelical about. They know how long the visit takes, the opening hours, the highlights, the lowlights, and the rest of it. In fact some of our visitors refuse to hear our garden presentations on the pretence that their guide does it for them. Blimey! There is only a thin demarcation line between the holiday guide and the bible methinks.

'Conoco, Albuquerque' (1969) by Ernst Haas

Some 'pilgrims' go even further, following religiously the guide's recommendations. Here at 9:00am, gone at 10:00am, reaching a new destination for noon, before embarking upon a new discovery mission later in the afternoon. Military precision. I thought holidays were supposed to be fun, unpredictable and relaxed. By the look on the face of some of those 'pilgrims', this sounds more like a military campaign doubled as a tick-box exercise. The hordes of tourists end up congregating down to the same places of pilgrimage. The secret coves of yesteryear have now become interplanetary bases, and the quiet country lanes have morphed into crowd-surfing spots, with our guys holding their guides to their hearts. At least - for once - it's not their Blackberries!

Meanwhile the locals have had to source new out-of-bound places that they keep to themselves for peaceful enjoyment, only until the next publication. As for the guided tourists, are they not simply putting themselves at risk of being misguided by those very guides they so religiously follow? By seeking to be smart, have they not simply just given up on any spirit of adventure, exploration and opinion, even kudos? In other words, how much is too much information, especially when handed to you on a plate? And after all, is ignorance not bliss? Hmm... So then... free yourself from the guide corseting your every move, and start living your holiday instead. Here's a sure first step towards freedom!

Culinary Heritage - A Medley of Influences

Other influences happily converge to define who I am today and where I stand in relation to my tastes, habits, preferences and observations, whether in my own kitchen or at a restaurant.

Over the years, through work, studies or common interests, I have met people from different cultures and nationalities and enjoyed finding out about their way of life back home, including food. I have also travelled to a variety of European and overseas destinations, and discovered new foods and ways of preparing them.

My family heritage itself is very interesting, with my northern and southern roots. My southern (i.e. Corsican) ties reflect the fact that I come from a family of merchant seamen, who brought exotic produce (ex: bananas) back to the island from the Far East at a time when the mere mortal could not afford them. My great grandad also brought back Ceylon tea, which the family happily consumed, at a time when coffee was more largely available.

This spirit of discovery brings to mind mémé and mum’s adventurous and slightly intrepid cooking. And this quest for ‘something else’ is reflected further with my grandma’s great uncles moving to America towards the end of the 19th century. You then fathom the idea that fusion food does indeed mean something to us!

Influences are borne out of the path of destiny. They can happen in the most unusual places too. Life is punctuated with little snippets of experience to whoever is observant and willing to embrace their novelty and cherish them for the rest of their lives, for those little snippets turn into what happy memories are made of.

My best cup of freshly-squeezed orange juice was from a ramshackle roadside café in Cuba for US$1… The best insider visit of a Chinese food store was with my Taiwanese friend Chiachi in Paris’s Chinatown… My very first sloe gin was expertly blended by my partner, Andy, who used his magic to make it a refreshing experience, at the end of a long day re-decorating the kitchen.

How about you, dear readers? What would you say defines who you are, in terms of your culinary heritage? Do drop me a line, looking forward to reading you!