Just a gallimaufry of AI-generated photos, real photos and ramblings 📸
Dove made of stones
Lunch - Teochew congee
Teochew congee, distinct from the typical Cantonese-style congee, offers a unique approach to rice porridge with its lighter and broth-like consistency. Unlike the creamy and thick texture of traditional congee, Teochew congee features whole rice grains suspended in a clear, flavorful broth, creating a soupier texture where the grains remain firm. This variant is prepared by boiling rice with a generous amount of water for a shorter duration, preserving the grains' shape and bite.
FROM THE TRAVEL ARCHIVES
Yellow taxis in Athens
HOLLYWOOD
In high school, our English class was often a blend of mundane grammar lessons and literary analysis. However, there were occasional moments that broke the monotony, sparking our imaginations and transporting us to places we could only dream of. One such moment was when our English teacher asked a student, one of the lucky few who had just returned from a trip to the United States, to read her essay about her recent adventures.
We sat at our desks, a mix of curiosity and envy swirling within us. Travel overseas was a luxury afforded only to the wealthier students, and for most of us, the idea of boarding an international flight seemed as distant as the moon. The United States, with its sprawling cities and cultural landmarks, was a land we knew only through the lens of Hollywood films and TV shows.
As she began to read, her words painted vivid pictures in our minds. She described the towering skyscrapers of New York City, the bustling streets filled with yellow taxis, and the serene beauty of Central Park. But what truly captivated us was her account of visiting Hollywood.
Hollywood. The name alone conjured images of glamour and stardom. For us, a visit to Hollywood was the ultimate bucket list item, a dream nurtured by countless hours spent watching movies. It was the land of movie stars, red carpets, and iconic landmarks like the Hollywood Walk of Fame. She described walking down the boulevard, seeing the names of legendary actors immortalized in the sidewalk, and posing for a photo in front of the famous Hollywood sign perched on the hills. Each sentence she read heightened our longing, making us yearn to experience it all firsthand.
Listening to her essay, we felt a mix of emotions. There was a tinge of envy, yes, but also a shared awe of her experiences. Her words transported us from our classroom to the sun-soaked streets of Los Angeles, allowing us to live vicariously through her adventures. It was a reminder of the vast world beyond our small town, filled with possibilities and wonders waiting to be explored.
For a brief period, our classroom transformed into a gateway to the world, and we left with hearts full of wanderlust, each of us secretly hoping that one day, we too might stand beneath the glimmering lights of Hollywood.
Fast forward to 1990, and that long-held dream finally became my reality. I found myself in Los Angeles, walking down the very streets I had imagined so vividly years ago. The winter sun cast a gentle light, offering a pleasant warmth amidst the cooler air. As I strolled along Hollywood Boulevard, my heart raced with excitement. I took in the sights and sounds, the bustling crowds, and the street performers adding to the lively atmosphere.
Then, it happened. I stopped in my tracks and looked down. There, gleaming under the Californian sun, was a star with the name John Travolta. I could hardly believe my eyes. This was the man who had danced his way into our hearts in "Saturday Night Fever" and "Grease," whose movies had been a staple of my youth. Standing there, I felt a rush of emotions—joy, nostalgia, and a profound sense of accomplishment. It was as if I had stepped into a movie myself, one that had been playing in my mind since that day in English class.
I stood there for a moment, soaking in the significance of it all. The years of dreaming, the stories we shared, and the endless daydreams had led me to this point. I realized then that dreams do come true, sometimes in the most spectacular ways. As I continued my walk, I couldn't help but smile, knowing that somewhere, my high school self was beaming with pride and disbelief.
Hollywood had once been a far-off fantasy, but now it was a tangible reality. And in that moment, standing in front of John Travolta's star, I felt like anything was possible.
Mann's Chinese Theater
The Chinese Theatre, originally known as Grauman's Chinese Theatre, has a rich history marked by several name changes reflecting its ownership and branding over the decades.
Grauman's Chinese Theatre was opened on May 18, 1927, by showman Sid Grauman, who also built the nearby Egyptian Theatre. It quickly became famous for its opulent design, inspired by Chinese architecture, and for hosting high-profile movie premieres.
In 1973, the theatre was sold to the Mann Theatres chain and was subsequently renamed Mann's Chinese Theatre. This period saw the continuation of its tradition of hosting major film premieres and events.
In 2000, the theatre reverted to its original name, Grauman's Chinese Theatre, when the partnership between Mann Theatres and the original owners was reestablished.
In 2011, the theatre underwent another rebranding when TCL, a Chinese electronics company, acquired naming rights. It is now known as TCL Chinese Theatre. This partnership brought significant renovations, including the installation of an IMAX auditorium, making it one of the most technologically advanced theatres in the world while preserving its historic charm.
FLAKE 99
At 62, with so many unchecked items on my bucket list, I sometimes wonder if some things can only be experienced once in a lifetime and never again. Take, for example, the simple pleasure of a Flake 99 ice cream in London. I remember that autumn day so vividly, the grey and hazy London sky, the gentle breeze carrying the laughter of children playing nearby. I was standing by the Tower Bridge, enjoying the soft serve ice cream, creamy and cold, with the signature Flake chocolate bar nestled on top. It brought an inexplicable joy, a fleeting moment of pure bliss
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSo2yye4xNo0Edb682AXOO7LwaT5bT26OTZXWaazEXZF5Pr0JUK6pkyl8uTJxTK4m-YmEOWoDIHG1muH21A-uk-g1VGMIq2vzgW7mp4zRkf2GdJjAakLnXEu1Bjw4ksPlUvqjlVepNHbjc6mzRO3tqs_FjikD1DLv3mHUi3pWeqmOPDCoo16bRUwr6-CUQ/w268-h400/DSC01405.png)
Now, years later, as I reflect on that memory, a pang of melancholy washes over me. The places I long to revisit seem farther away, not just in distance but in time. I find myself haunted by the idea that some experiences are singular, unique in their occurrence, never to be replicated again. The list of things I hoped to do grows longer, while the days left to do them grow shorter. And I wonder, with a heavy heart, if perhaps the true beauty of those moments lies in their impermanence, in the bittersweet reality that they can never be fully recaptured, only cherished in memory.
The thought that I may never visit London again and savour a Flake 99 fills me with deep sadness. The city that held so many firsts and unforgettable experiences now feels like a distant, unreachable dream. It is this realization that makes those memories all the more precious and painful, knowing they may remain just that—memories, never to be relived.
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There are many theories as to how the 99 got its name. Here's an extract from BBC NEWS.
The ice cream in question has gone by that name since 1930, when Cadbury's launched a shorter version of its Flake bar - called a Flake 99 - for the ice cream trade.
Which does rather seem to blow one theory - that the bar is exactly 99mm long - out of the water. The UK is only now edging towards metrification - 70-odd years ago, everything was in imperial measures.
Ditto the suggestion that back in the day they cost 99p. True in the 1990s, but in 1930, nothing cost 99p - it was pre-decimalisation, remember.
Another theory goes that the initials of ice cream are IC, which is one way to write 99 in Roman numerals. But the convention is to write it XCIX - but it's possible this was ignored or not known.
Found this in Cadbury's FAQs In the days of the monarchy in Italy the King has a specially chosen guard consisting of 99 men, and subsequently anything really special or first class was known as "99" - and that his how "99" Flake came by its name.
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