I thought I'd write today about the way a typical weekly routine plays out for us in these strange times. Hopefully, in a few years' time, we'll look back on all this with amused wonder. Then again, maybe we'll still be in the self-same boat...

Anyway, as I already told you, we tried out the Carpenter Street Curry House on Monday. In Kuching, eatery tables are always appropriately distanced, so you don't have to worry about that. But we do look for well-ventilated places, and sit outside whenever possible. And I won't buy anything from any self-service arrangements (this experiment has probably scarred me for life...)

We went out with friends on Thursday evening, and again the same considerations applied. They always pick spacious, airy places, and we sit at a large table, so there's plenty of room between households. (Our venue this time was the BBQ King Seafood, not far from the Vivacity mall, and the food was really great.)



Anyway, I'm leaping ahead. On the way home from the Curry House on Monday, we went past the pandan patch. This humble herb smells and tastes delicious, and is apparently also very good for you. It's fairly common, and often, as we're walking along, we'll be ambushed by its wonderful aroma.


Anyone who's read this blog for more than 30 seconds will know that we walk a lot.

Recently, it's come to our attention that we're pretty famous for this here in Kuching... We're "the white couple who walk". (Actually, people probably say "the barmy old white couple who walk", but our interlocutors are too polite to relay this bit.)

We're conspicuous, because we're highly unusual. Not only are there fairly few Europeans around Kuching at the moment, but also very few people of any description actually walk.

I need to qualify that a little. Malaysians happily walk in parks, in other designated exercise areas, along the riverfront, and so on. And many Malaysians are keen hikers. But very few walk purely in order to get from A to B, or do their exercise-walking out on the streets. We do both these things.

Of course, local reluctance is understandable. It's hot here. You wouldn't want to walk to work, unless you're employed by a place that offers showering and changing facilities.

But even those with no time constraints -- who, like us, have every opportunity to walk, come home, shower, and change -- just don't do it.

Walking (we aim for 11,000 paces a day, which takes at least two hours to do) is an important activity in our lives.




Of late, however, our walks have become a little less enjoyable.

First, there's the masks. They're hot and uncomfortable in our climate, frankly (and if you inadvertently buy black ones, they're even worse). If you're in a park, or walking along the waterfront, the rule (whether unwritten or not, I'm not sure) seems to be that you don't need one. But as soon as you're in the busier streets, the expectation (combined with your own sense of altruism and self-preservation) seems to dictate that you do.

Second, there's the weather. This year, it's been wetter earlier. More dampness and less sun make the pavements lethally slippery. I can afford to take no risks, and often end up walking on the road because it's safer.

Third, there are the damn dogs. Lots of people have guard dogs. They're kept on the property, and they'll bark their heads off as you go by. This is kind of annoying, and does tend to wreck whatever sense of tranquility you started the day with, but it's not dangerous. More worrying are the loose dogs you encounter, who are just roaming the streets. I won't take certain routes because I know there are dogs there.

Not much has happened in the first and third areas, but today we observed that there's been a bit of a cleaning operation underway, and many of the pavements have been scoured and de-slimed. Excellent! Let's hope they do a cull of loose dogs next.

Tuesday brought our landlords, a workman, and the building administrator to the apartment to try to sort out the leak we experienced last week. Normally, this wouldn't be a big deal. But nowadays, you feel you have to open all the windows and doors, and keep all the fans running, to make sure there's plenty of ventilation...

We had a nice chat with our landlady, who gave us some great tips on eating places we've not tried, but whereas in the past, such a visit would be relaxed and easy-going, nowadays you're always aware of the risks, and thinking of ways to mitigate them. How this pandemic has changed us all...

On Wednesday we hit up a mall that was new to us. The Aeon mall, in fact. This was our reward for having cleaned in the morning. We hate cleaning, and have to bribe ourselves to do it.

The Aeon mall is very pleasantly cat-themed:




And we struck lucky with a number of items we'd been looking for.

Replacement chair socks, for example:



And we finally found a masher! It's not a fantastic masher, but it's a masher. In the early days of our kitchen-equipment purchases, we rejected various mashers, because they didn't come up to our rigorous spec. Having recently failed to locate even these inferior implements, however, we were happy to unearth a masher that may not be a triumph of mashing design, but at least is modern and functional.

If you have a good memory, you might recall from an earlier account a set of "measuring" cups whose stated measures bore no resemblance whatsoever to their actual capacity. After months of translating recipes ("1/4 cup = our 1/3 cup", etc), I finally gave in, and bought some replacements.

And we acquired a blender...

I know, I know... It's not minutes since we bought a microwave... Whatever happened to those early ideas of minimalism? Well, low-carbing happened. And covid happened. Every piece of equipment broadens our repertoire. So far, the blender has successfully made salad dressing, soup -- and chili paste...

The last time I ordered chilies as part of our supermarket delivery, the quantity turned out to be bigger than we could eat before they started to deteriorate. This time, I armed myself with some chili preservation strategies. So we've done some ice-cube chilies, and I've made some sambal oelek (Indonesian-style chili paste with salt and vinegar). Taking the lid off the blender when you've processed dozens of chilies in there nearly blows your head off, I can tell you. Have plenty of tissues handy...


Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, I'd got to Thursday's walk along the waterfront. You remember the little pavilion I mentioned recently? Well, here it is in its entirety, complete with its lion topknot:




Thursday was also swimming day. Private pools here have been allowed to operate for a while now, but because (in a very sensible provision) you have to book ahead to ensure only one family unit is present in the pool at a time, I hadn't got round to it until last week. Having not swum all year, I was horribly stiff the next day. But this week, although I did more lengths of our pocket pool than last week, I seemed to suffer no ill effects. Obviously those muscles had been reminded of their function, and had decided to just get on with it.

Yesterday was affogato day, and vegetable-processing day.

And this morning, as it was dry, and had been dry all night, we did one of our favourite circuits -- walk to Kubah Ria, cross the bridge, walk back along the river, and catch one of the little ferries across to our side.

We don't know what's happening to the pedestrian bridge that was scheduled to open in September last year, but was delayed because of a tilting cable anchor block. The last time we passed that way, the bridge was not in use, but was still intact. Now the deck has been removed, and loaded onto a barge (see the picture at the top).

Further back towards the river, we'd not particularly noticed this organically incorporated machinery before. There's a kind of symbolism for our time here, I feel, as everything grinds to a halt, and becomes ever more unlikely to move again:



And finally, come rain come shine, the neighbouring building site works on:



Those guys are tough. Kudos.