SUMMERDALE PENTHOUSE

With Minah, the ever-friendly host

Sister Power with Killer Powered Lungs

Mum with Maz's mum-in-law. Both are tough cookies to crack!

Maz with Zac who only drinks Seasons Ice Lemon Tea

With Aishah (Minah's charming daughter) from RP

Before the make-over of Yek

The reigning Ms Boon Lay 2011. The after make-over look!

The Goddess of Love worshipped by man from all walks of life

A lucky prize winner - Hajjah Sabiah Bte Sheikh Madar

Maz and I beat the youngest contestants with our pregnated-sized balloon

A rock queen was born on the 13th floor penthouse

Smoke on the water and fire on the penthouse.....

I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd. You're gonna hear Ida's voice

Don't be a Cassanova ok, Zac?

Maz and her outlaws.....oopsss... her sis-in-laws I mean!

LAY BOON LAY FOR ME

We received an invitation for a new-year gathering and visited Minah's and Ebby's Summerdale penthouse at Boon Lay Drive. My husband was engaged in his work while my two sons had their own plans. When you have two grown-up boys, it's almost impossible to get everyone at the same time for a night out. Thus, together with my mum, Maz, Zac and Tini we hopped into our Terios and ventured to one of my least visited places on Singapore's geographical map - Boon Lay at West Coast Town.

Summerdale is a 99-year leasehold development. We were welcomed warmly by our host. The unit was tastefully decorated with knick-knacks and decorative items from all over the world. Minah and Ebby have obviously been globe-trotting from Asia to Europe and from America to Ocenia. The view from the 13th floor spacious penthouse was fantastic, offering almost the whole town of Boon Lay. The MRT track was ahead of us while Boon Lay Shopping Centre and The Bluez were just within a walking distance. A private institution was just a stone's throw away. The flickering lights from the nearby residential blocks and commercial retail buildings blanketed the area pleasingly, especially on that cool breezy night. I could just pull out a rocking chair and whilst my time away in eternity anytime.

With a commanding view and a space to entertain, you won't actually need to dine at swanky and fancy restaurants. Ebby had made a good decision when he took up the penthouse unit. He must have had his Math right. The family's needs are self-sufficiently catered by the facilities abounding the area. Entertainment can just be at one's dwelling place, offering privacy and the warmth of a home with throw-ins like hospitality and graciousness. Not only do you save on tons of money, but offering an alternative way of entertaining your guests from one's penthouse is a novelty and refreshing idea.

I used to imagine Boon Lay as one of the a far-flung places in the western part of Singapore where you hardly can find life and entertainment but only old unwelcomed dull grey blocks of flats of yesteryear's. With no relatives staying around the vicinity, my GPS has never been programmed to direct me there. Was I being biased and prejudiced of the western parts of Singapore? Having been raised and lived my entire life at the eastern and southern parts of Singapore, I have to admit shamelessly that I was. I know little of Boon Lay, Jurong West or Jurong Extension for that matter

All this while, Yishun has been my guiding compass for everything that I need. I work in Yishun, stay in Yishun and shop in Yishun. There is no reason for me to crawl out from my Yishun shell. I think I have just been like a suaku, leading a comfortable life in a familiar surrounding and not been brave enough to catapult myself to places I have no bearing and connection of. A night in Boon Lay had forced me to reexamine how I should try to accept new places; with a more open mindset and see things from a wide-angled lens.

My perception of Boon Lay totally took a different view when my son Thaqif drove us there that night. Boon Lay lay in front of me as a bustling satellite town which had been given a new lease of life. Boon Lay's landscape is kicking, alive and shouting of its existence to its first-time visitors like me. We past Boon Lay Place. It had been closed and the entire road was lit up and drowned with music as the folks got ready to usher in the new year. The entire road was jam-packed with our foreign workers and local revelers. That was one way to integrate our hard-working foreign source of labour to the local community.

We ushered in the new year with games, Botak Jones steak and loads of fun and laughter. Most of Maz's in-laws were there to welcome 2011 and say goodbye to 2010. The penthouse was turned upside down as we neared midnight. Earlier on we had rocked the 13th floor with our ala-Bon Jovi, ala-Deep Purple performances and port-belly earth-shaking dancing. Shakira would love to learn some of the gyrating hip moves from our port-belly dancers.

There was almost an earthquake when my team members dolled up Yek with glossy lipstick and splashed his rosy cheeks with red fire cracker rouge. There were the 'oohhsss' and 'ahhhsss' from the men when they stealthily eyed his Marilyn Monroe's upturned dewylicious lips and alluring kohl-lined doe-eyes. With his infectious dimpled smile and a body to die for, Yek was unanimoulsy voted as our reigning Ms Boon Lay 2011 at the strike of twelve.

I didn't wait long enough to find out if Yek received any indecent proposals from the men around. The heat of the night seemed to blaze the penthouse when I left.

Roll in the slides.

PRATA KHANA

Tea Tarik to end the night

It had been an enjoyable night for all
Syukur, Nani and Cuai waiting for their prata

Yati with her son Yusuf. He can draw planes well.

Two brothers - Ridzwan and Yusuf

Prata had brought a Johorian to Jalan Kayu

Thanks for the prata Yati and the fish head curry. Burp...

The fish head curry we had

Ariff- our newly-wed cousin

The empty plates polished clean by the men

Ratna, Razif and Arif

Can I insert a $1.00 coin in you, mum? I want a piggy ride.

These fellows can also take your prata order!

Relaxing after some fish-head curry

The fluffy prata with curry

FRET OVER PRATA

Cousin Nani and Hubby Syukur had driven across the causeway from Kuala Lumpur for the new year. It's time for another meet-up and more food to spoil my diet plans and pile the extra kilos all at the wrong places. We opted for Jalan Kayu for some prata, mutton and fish head curry and easy parking that week-day night.

During the prata hey days of Jalan Kayu, this wheat flour pancake look-alike was sold at many stalls lining the road, shaded by mighty Angsana trees. Weary SAF soldiers in dusty boots (from the nearby Seletar Camp) and those salivating for some good prata from all over Singapore would throng this area day and night for a visit to their favourite stall. There was never a time the stalls, though many of them would vie for hungry 'Prataners' had any empty seats. In fact it was mandatory for you to queue for a vacant seat and like any true blood 'Prataners', actually would not mind waiting though the stomach could be rumbling with hunger and head fuming like Mount Bromo for an eruption any moment just drooling over the prata.

You had to try out the many pratas available before you could proclaim your top fave stall. Everyone had their favourite prata stall and would head for it automatically with tongue wagging for the mutton or fish curry. The Jalan Kayu prata was the epitome of all pratas sold in Singapore and everyone wanted to claim a stake at having eaten the one and only Jalan Kayu prata. I had been disappointed several times because the pratas or the mutton curry were sold out when I reached there around 7pm.

The prata sold at that time was never bigger than my palm, yet it was crispy, fluffy and would shred easily with a light tug on the cooked dough. It cost forty cents for a plain piece and was considered expensive back then. I preferred eating the prata with my hands than using the metal spoon and fork. Letting the curry soak, sponge and slosh the prata before putting the soggy piece into my cavernous mouth was simply heaven. It's what Colonel Sanders would say 'finger-licking good' or may be "palm-licking syiok" if he had had tasted the elliptical-shaped prata dipped in the mutton gravy or fish curry.

Your hands would smell of the strong curry gravy even after a good wash. Just avoid burping in front of your boss or go for a date after your prata rendezvous, especially when you had reported late for duty or did not exercise punctuality for your appointment. People would have known you have tucked in a few pieces of the pratas even a kilometre away when you let out the wind.

The mutton curry was another legend to write about. It was aromatic, spicy and thick. The cube mutton pieces was tender and moist. It had been cooked to absorb the combination of the myriad of grounded spices used to produce a flavourful rich taste of the best curry gravy around this part of Singapore. Your nostrils could flare and fan out like the tail on an excited male Thai fighting fish when the stall owner slid open his pot cover to scoop the dish. This high-blood pressure causing mutton meat cost $4.00 a plate. High-blood pressure causing or not, snakes of queue reminding you of a dragon dance performance on Chinese New Year would form along the road every evening. This was a common scene along Jalan Kayu daily before the introduction of the present million dollar Toto winning queues at 7-11 outlets.

Nowadays, you can find two to three shops selling prata as opposed to about a dozen during the 80's. The old prata kings of Jalan Kayu had long hung their pots and aprons due to the development of the surrounding area. You have newer owners now and more varieties of prata to spoil your palate. The relaxing no-stress environment has been given a make-over. No longer are there road side stalls where you just grab a stool to enjoy your prata with a glass of sarabat tea mixed with a falling Angsana tree leaf and shout your order at the top of your voice to the dhoti-clad mama prata. Your prata now is served in air-conditioned room with order taken by waiters who scribble your list in writing which they alone could understand.

Give me back the good old Jalan Kayu road-side days of prata stalls any time, my friend.

Bai, teh halia satu, prata kosong dua. Kuah kasi lebih. Masuk buku
(Uncle, give me one glass of ginger tea and two plain prata. Extra gravy. Add into my account book)

MAZ FROM DOWN UNDER

Fiza, Maz and Queen Latiffa

Athirah, the cherry of my eye

Ina and daughter Athirah

Seafood pasta with shellfish, squid, fish and herbs

Fish and chip...Swensen's signature item on their menu

Salad for a trim waist

Fried vegetable....more oil for the body...

You have gained 2 kilos, Ina? Is that what you're trying to say?

Nolthing beats good food thrown in with lively company

OUT FOR LUNCH

My sis and her family from Sydney paid us her yearly pilgrimage recently. We are always excited when she's in Singapore. There would be gatherings and late night outs for the sisters and cousins. This time round was no exception. Late suppers and past midnight drives packed her timetable to the brim.

Her visit was officiated with a lunch at Swensen with some cousins whom Maz had not met for sometime. Over pasta and pizza we caught up with our lost time and updated one another with the latest news. The food in front of us was just given a cursory glance as we chattered endlessly and tickled each other's ribs with humourous jokes.

Maz was oozing with delight over her good luck of being selected electronically as Oprah's audience. Three million Australians had registered online. Maz and her daughter Ema were fortunate to be picked as guests for the Oprah show at Sydney Opera House. A diamond pendant was their giveaway gift from the famed talk show host diva.

Over at Swensen and in between mouthfuls of crunchy salad and Italian pasta, we revisited our last memory lane of meeting one another with deafening guffaws, thumping one's back and clapping hands loudly. I know it was so unladylike and uncouth. But it has always been this way whenever my cousins and siblings meet. Laughter is the food on the menu while warm company is served on the platter.

I hate to believe that we might have caused some Swensen's patrons with indigestion due to six ladies' unruly and rowdy behaviour that day!

A MUST AT DOMAS

DOMAS IS GOLD

There's a French proverb which says, 'Don't dance on a volcano'. It means beware of someone who has nothing to lose. I was not only dancing on Kawah Domas but frolicking my first experience stepping on a crater of gold, where Kawah Domas had derived its name. Kawah Domas had not threatened me in anyway and I was free to reward myself with Domas' gifts from nature after the hike.

Domas means gold. I think the yellow sulphurous colour of the pool and the sulphur discharge could have given the golden look of the crater. The pools as well as the sulphur discharge glisten and look more golden when sunlight skips and glides on the water surface.

Kawah Domas which fans out to about 5-6 hectare may not look like the crater you have seen in your geography books. I had envisioned the crater to be how my uncle would mix his sand and cement mixture together. Whenever Uncle Jalil had to plaster some bricks walls for my grandmother's house, he would mix the right proportion of sand and cement together before making a half metre mound of the mixture with his changkul(hoe). A perfect depression is made at the top of the peak where some water would be poured. That shaped looked like a volcano with its vent forcing out the magma and lava collecting on the crater mouth. That was my mental model of a perfect crater. But Kawah Domas tore away that image from my mind.

What finally unfolded in front of me was a crater with different angles of inclination and denseness of rocks surrounding the fringe of the crater. I saw instead, slopes of white and grey rocks where some sides had flattened. slumped and collapsed. Some parts looked like they had been 'scooped' out and the materials dumped on the higher elevation of the slopes.

The crater floor itself boasted of bubbling pools of mud, geysers, boiling hot water, gases and steam rising in the air. The smell of the sulphur was tolerable that day. I didn't need to whip out my handkerchief and end up looking like a desert bandit. Instead I was busy taking pictures of the crater and listening to the hissing sulphur vapour which kept coming out from the cracks of the rocks. Needless to say, I had to be a 'Jumping Jane' in trying to avoid getting my legs submerged and scalded in hot boiling pool of water.

Pak Rizki lit up a cigarette. I was just about to tell him that I am not a nicotine substance abuser when he showed me an experiment that took me off my feet. He puffed out the smoke of the cigarette near the sulphur emitting rocks. The chemical reaction resulted in more sulphurous smoke in the air. I let out a 'Wow' and tried to produce the same effect by nearing the stick to the rocks.

A guide rushed away with a basket of eggs to be boiled in the hot boiling water. Temperature of the water can reach 150 degrees Fahrenheit on cold days but stabilises at 95 degrees Fahrenheit on hot days. The locals swear that eating the hard-boiled eggs can lower your cholesterol level.

My mentor picked up some igneous rocks and explained to us their uses. Andesite rocks which are made into bracelets and necklaces can lower cholesterol level, clear eczema and get rid of skin allergy. Andesite wearers who have medical problems feel warm with direct contact of the stone. Animals will run away if you have a piece of basalt in your pocket. I questioned the logic here but waas not in the mood for a debate with my guide. Batu apung or pumice stone can leave your heels smooth.

The most relaxing moment and a must at the crater was having our legs massaged in mud by the guides. The tired feet too deserved a soak in the hot mud pool. The water feels cool when you do not move your legs but if you walk in the pool the, the raised temperature of the water could cause some discomfort. Diabetic patients ought to be more careful of this.

The mud has an exfoliation effect on your skin and is good for those suffering from eczema. The locals have mud bath and face masks to improve their health and skin smoothness. Bottles of mud are sold to tourists. The sulphur laden water can improve your blood circulation and get rid of the click-clack joint sounds you have to bear because of arthritis.

Reluctantly, I pulled my legs out from the pool and headed back to the carpark. My Kawah Domas hike had been wonderful though I still mourn for my white rabbit fur tissue box, bag and muffler. Can anyone buy me those if you are going to Kawah Domas on your next holiday destination? You would truly make me feel elated and estatic and I will show you may gratitude till eternity.

KAWAH DOMAS HIKE - Pit Stops 21-25

FAUNA, FLORA AND MORE

Pit Stops 21-25

We have finally reached the final leg of the pit stops. Nature had offered us views and things to marvel at. We need to comprehend them for nature does nothing uselessly. Tangkuban Prahu had awed those with souls, reminded us of our smallness and brief stay on earth. Now Kawah Domas would not hide herself when we reached it. The goal of our hike is living in agreement with nature and having no conflict with Big Mother.

Pit Stop 21: Stumped for Words



A pair of hands clasped in prayers emerged from the base of the trunk

Faces in agony on the fallen trunk

An octopus with its tentacles.

My husband saw a toad with its stretched out hind legs.

Your imagination determines the image you see

Have you wondered how nature has her own ways in sculpturing the many elements found around us? Nature is a great sculptor with a pair of deft and nimble hands. She moulds objects which are beautiful and aesthetically pleasing from ordinary things.

Tree stumps, uprooted buttress roots, termite eaten trunks and lightning struck branches transform into animals, human and objects.What result from the works of nature did I see? I saw an octopus with spread tentacles. There was a toad stretching its hind legs. A face carved from a tree stump. A hand clasped in prayers emerged from a recessed trunk. I was stumped for words!

Pit Stop 22: Keep Clean, Go Green

Bins for your waste disposal

Tourists exercise high social responsibility in keeping the area free of litter. Not much unwanted waste was seen in the area. Dustbins made from recycled plastic drums and bamboo baskets placed randomly contained mainly empty aqua bottles.

Workers come two days once to keep the place clean and clear the dustbins, said Pak Daha.

Pit Stop 23: Creedance Clear Water Revival

Small rivers that end up as big rivers

The path of the river is not smooth

Clear and sparkling water seen in the river

Rocky river bed indeed!

It’s crystal clear. It’s the 3R. Revitalising, Reinvigorating, Reviving. The water flows swiftly on the river bed of hard lava flow, eroding and contouring the bed artistically. At the upper course, the rocks of different resistant showed vertical erosion being more aggressive than lateral erosion.

The river leaps, falls, splashes, crashes and snakes its way downstream. It gurgles and giggles when it flows on smooth surfaces but groans and moans when it forces its way against boulders and rocky surfaces. I could hear the river crash from a waterfall but was unable to see one because of the undulating terrain and the thick vegetation.

Pit Stop 24: Feel The Tremors

What is this Pak Didi?

The seismic monitoring device embedded in the ground

Over 300 of them are found around the region

I was perplexed when I saw several of them along the hike. They were square cement slabs with a round metal rod in the centre planted in the ground. I signalled for Pak Riziki to stop and explain to me what they were.

I discovered that there were over 3o0 of such cement slabs around the mountain area. Why so many and what are they for? They are actually seismic monitoring detectting reading equipment. Like a seismograph. Any unusual movement in the ground is detected by the equipment and it sends the seismic activity data to the earthquake and volcano office for further analysis and interpretation.

Living around a temperamental vicinity is fragile and dangerous. One needs to be brave to leave behind what one has built and lived for. The collated data can prewarn the locals of any impending disasters; saving lives and properties.

But, unless you and your family have lived around a volcanic area for generation after generation, you would never know why it is difficult for the locals to tear themselves and flee even warnings after warnings have been given.

Pit Stop 25: Kawah Domas Entry Point

Going downhill. We are almost there to the kawah.

A few more steps...and then I can have my leg mud massage

Mud in bottles being sold. Good for your complexion too!

500m and not 500 miles to Kawah Domas

Kawah Domas with her boiling pools behind us

We finally reached the Domas crater entry point after an hour. It would be a short walk down before the crater and all its beauty lay before our eyes. The hike had been very enriching for me. I got to know a lot of things from the three Orang Hutan who had added value to my hike by packing it with informative explanation on the flora, fauna and anything else you can find in the forest.

The climax of the hike would be to finally step foot at the Domas Crater and witness first hand the shooting geysers, rising sulphur vapour, hot steam floating and bubbling mud pools that have drawn

tourists from all over the world.

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Next entry will be a slide show of our Kawah Domas Experience....