“Oh, a consumption is worse than a Capius ad Ligatum: to nothing can I compare it better than to a reprieve after a man is condemned, or to a boy with his hose about his heels ready to be whipped, to whom his master stands preaching a long time all law and no gospel ere he proceed to execution. Or rather it is a man should be roasted to death and melt away little by little, while physicians like cooks stand stuffing him with herbs and basting him with this oil and that syrup.
I am of the opinion that to be famished to death is far better, for his pain in seven or eight days is at an end whereas he that is in consumption continues languishing many years ere death have mercy on him.”
“Meanwhile the hounds were giving vent to voices of every conceivable kind. One, his head tossed back, was, drawling so protractedly and zealously that God knows what fee he was getting for it; another was snapping it out as briskly as a sexton; among them rang a tireless treble, probably a young puppy’s, like the bell of a mail-coach; and all this with a robust canine nature, because he wheezed the way a vocalizing basso wheezes when a concert is in full swing, when the tenors rise on tiptoe in their burning desire to hit a high note, and all strive upwards, heads thrown back, while he alone, his unshaven chin tucked into his cravat crouching and sinking almost to the floor, lets out a note from down there that makes the window panes rattle and tinkle.”
“In three years’ time the thin man will not have a single serf left to him that has not been mortgaged; the fat man goes on his quiet way, and ,lo and behold, suddenly at the end of town there appears a house that’s been purchased in his wife’s name, then at the other end of town another house, then near the town a comfortable little country home, then a village and all that goes with it. At length the fat man, having rendered service to God and Tsar, having earned the respect of one and all, leaves his position, transfers his household and becomes a landowner, a glorious Russian lord and master, the soul of hospitality, and he lives, and lives well. After he is gone, his thin little heirs once again, in the time honoured Russian way, gallop through their paternal fortune at full tilt.”
“These were the highly respected officials of the town. Alas! The fat ones of this world know how to manage their affairs better than the thin ones. The thin ones are mostly employed on special assignments or are merely carried on the civil service list, and flit hither and yon. Their existence is weightless, insubstantial and utterly insecure. The fat men, on the other hand, never occupy peripheral positions, but always central ones, and if they do sit down somewhere then they sit firmly and securely, and the seat would sooner crack and sag beneath them than they would fly off it. They have no liking for external glitter; their tailcoats are not so artfully cut as those of the thin men, yet their coffers are filled with God’s abundance.”
The Singapore Times Exclusive: THE ABDUCTION OF RORY DYLAN STEPHEN: OFF TO SIEM REAP TO SEE ANGKOR WAT AND PLAY SOME GOLF
Up with Bobby Jr. and Amira who gussied themselves up and we went for breakfast at the Waterfront Restaurant at our hotel the Bangkok Peninsula. What a lovely spot enjoying the breeze off the Chao Phraya River and watching the boats chug by. Bobby Jr. and Amira enjoyed a splendid buffet breakfast with so much delicious and exotic fruit. I had a bowl of chicken congee and a few mango slices oh so sweet! Bobby Jr. gave me a small bowl of Jasmine tea which I developed a fondness for in Thailand.
The plan was to hop in a limo so Bobby Jr. could have some made to measure suits tailored for him in a manner of hours! Amira dispensed advice and I sat and watched.
We went to the Blue Elephant Bangkok built in 1903 and located along the historical Sathorn Road. It was restored in 2002 and is a beautiful colonial style restaurant with a sophisticated ambiance and tasteful Thai inspired décor.
I had a Purple Rice Dumpling and simply poached Snow Fish while Bobby Jr. and Amira tucked into Crab Maprao Coconut Soup followed with Pernakan Tumee Banana Prawns.
After lunch off to the tailors to pick up Bobby Jr.’s two suits and then straight to Don Mueang Airport for our private jet charter to Siem Reap. I must say a private jet beats the cargo holds I have travelled in to Singapore. I can chase a ball down the aisle and sleep on a comfortable seat, enjoy snacks and slurp up Evian at will.
Siem Reap’s airport is smallish but brand new. Bobby Jr. picked up his rented Mercedes and we drove for 45 minutes to Sofitel Angkor Phokeethra Golf and Spa Resort an oasis of greenery with colonial architecture.
A beautiful suite overlooking a large pond surrounded by beds of beautiful flowers.
A glass of champagne at the Champagne Bar and a dinner of steamed sea bass in a coriander sauce and of course the omnipresent rice in the deserted restaurant. Amira told me Cambodian men eat 260 kilos of rice and year and women 190! When humans eat rice in Singapore, Thailand and Cambodia it is usually a very large mound of it. I love rice but Bobby Jr. ensures I have protein, veggies and fruit.
Off to bed as tomorrow morning we are off to see Angkor Wat a breathtaking World Heritage site.
I am amazed how all the hotel staff here and in Bangkok bow to say hello. And being a Westie, I can smell sincerity. They are so hospitable and it is not an act. I thought it was time to practice. I am very adroit on my hind legs. Tomorrow I will return the bows.
“I keep using the word expression” Haraguchi went on, “but an artist doesn’t paint what’s inside, he doesn’t paint the heart. He paints what the heart puts on display. As long as he observes everything in the display case, he can tell what’s locked up in the safe. Or we can assume that much, I suppose. A painter has to resign himself to the fact that anything he can’t see on display is beyond the scope of his responsibility. That’s why we only paint the flesh. Whatever flesh the artist paints, if it hasn’t got the spirit in it, it’s dead, it simply has no validity as a painting.”
I set out to review this Canadian Rye Whisky with intent to neatly categorize its profile. Better said than done.
The best I can do is state this is such a bizarre Canadian whisky try at your own risk without any cut and dry review from yours truly! I hope there will be enjoyment perhaps not so much for what is in your glass but “the experience”. As to Jimmy Hendrix’s lyrics “Are You Experienced?” few will have experienced a 67% Canadian rye whisky monster.
At 67% you may wish to consider this your experimental foray into the outer limits of Canadian rye whisky. Does high alcohol impart some joy to the whisky aficionado? Shows sophistication? Whatever your impression it will be a talking piece. For maximum enjoyment try with a group of friends. Try neat. Add water. Add ice.
Palate: Perhaps the first impression may be explosive particularly with a normal sip. Adjust by a mini-sip still same result. A truly burning finish. WARNING! May irritate back of your throat, nose may run excessively.
Personality: I am not for the faint at heart particularly when consumed neat. Firewater. Takes your breath away. Explosive. You will either hate me, love me or be totally confounded.
ON THE ROCKS (and lots of em)
Aroma: About same as neat however the cement aroma is strengthened to a point of distraction.
Palate: The fire has been relegated largely to the background and the burn is gentler. Warm and fuzzy.
Personality: Somewhat tamer but still wild.
WHAT A TASTE EXPERIENCE! Once you recover from your shock you’ll be back again to validate or negate for a final decision.
Alberta Premium 10 Year Old Cask Strength Canadian Rye Whisky, Alberta Distillers, Calgary, Canada, 750 mL, 67 %, $75CDN).
The Singapore Times Exclusive: THE ABDUCTION OF RORY DYLAN STEPHEN: AN EVENING CRUISE ON THE CHAO PHRAYA RIVER IN BANGKOK WITH TWO VIETNAMESE “GENTLEMEN”
Somchai returned me to our suite at the Peninsula Bangkok and we parted friends with a jolly bark of approval from me.
Bobby Jr. had recovered from his wobbly tummy and was hoisting a few durian juices and vodka. He told me we would be sailing along the Chao Phraya River that cuts Bangkok in two. Our guests would be two Vietnamese gentlemen but how gentle they were was dubious given Bobby Jr.’s comment these “gentlemen” would throw you in the Bau Sau wetlands to watch you gobbled up by Siamese Crocodiles just for the fun of it.
We walked to the private dock of the Peninsula Bangkok to board the yacht Bobby Jr. had hired. Well shiver me timber, the captain was the beautiful Malay woman who had driven us to Sir Reginald Nicomshire’s party a few nights ago in Singapore. Bobby Jr. embraced her warmly. Was there something going on there!
Bobby and I waited 25 minutes for our two Vietnamese guests to arrive. Shiver me timber again. I recognized one of them. That creepy man with the long curly nails and medical type sunglasses from Nicomshire’s party that had been arguing with Bobby Jr.’s mother Madame Fong. Man he looked similar to Uncle Ho!
We shoved off and I headed to the bow to enjoy the breeze and the view of a beautifully illuminated Temple of the Dawn, historic sights and skyscrapers. I have seen so many beautiful sights today I can’t imagine many puppies experiencing.
I had a bowl of rice and sliced meat off the ribs from Bobby Jr.’s favourite carnivorous joint in Bangkok, The Smoking Pug.
I overheard the Vietnamese gentlemen speaking in very angry tones about “that Sherman swine”. Could that be Barry Sherman we had dinner last night with? They sounded so furious I thought they just might throw him to the crocodiles!
We docked back at the Bangkok Peninsula around midnight and our guests wobbled down the plank after consuming a vast amount of Chang Lagers.
We, and I include Amira, the beautiful Malay, headed up to our suite for some shuteye.
Bobby said all three of us would be flying to some place Siem Reap in Cambodia.
The Singapore Times Exclusive: THE ABDUCTION OF RORY DYLAN STEPHEN: SHOULDN’T HAVE EATEN THAT SALAD: PUTTERING AROUND BANGKOK AND POOPING IN A PALACE FLOWEBED IRONICALLY MAKING ME THE MOST POPULAR WESTIE IN BANGKOK
Bobby Jr. had a rough night running to and fro to the bathroom cursing loudly that he should have known better. Never eat raw unpeeled vegetables of which was not the case with the large, tossed salad he wolfed down at Mazzaro’s last night. Why not say what he wolved down was exiting from him roaring like a lion and fouling the air of our suite.
We ate our breakfast on the terrace of our suite enjoying the cool breeze from the Chao Phraya River. Its flow of boats was mesmerizing and far superior to tramping the hot pavement of Bangkok.
Bobby Jr. arranged for Thai High End Dog Services to entertain me for the day while he conducted some business from our suite. I heard him say to my attendant Somchai that if he ever lost me his head would roll and knowing Bobby Jr. he meant it.
Off we rolled in a Volvo XC 90 SUV to the European inspired Bang Pa In Summer Palace complex dating to the Ayutthaya Kingdom. We visited several buildings including traditional Thai pavilions, Chinese-style halls and a Thai Buddhist Temple that resembled a Gothic church. I enjoyed the beautiful gardens and lawns with ornamental plantings.
We then headed to an historic UNESCO World Heritage site Ayutthaya a city that served as the second capital of the Siamese Kingdom, now Thailand for more than four centuries. It was sacked by Burmese forces in 1767 and left in ruins but if the magnificent ruins are any indication of its greatness it certainly was once a flourishing city. Not to vulgarize the story but I had a poop in a flowerbed causing two guides to come running and you could tell Somchai was going to receive a tongue lashing but two wads of cash in the hands of the Thai guides now made me the most popular West Highland Terrier in Bangkok.
It was becoming unbearably hot and remember I was nine months old and this is my very first hot weather. I must have gulped down a litre of Evian so far.
To cool down we headed over to Benjakitti Park for a picnic lunch Thai High End Dog Services had prepared for both myself and Somchai. I thoroughly enjoyed my chicken slices poached in coconut milk and lemongrass, with a mango ice for dessert. Somchai had a Tom Ka Kai soup with a Chang Lager.
Somchai laid a blanket down for me on the grass under a tree and I slept like a log for two hours.
This is the Bangkok I like!!!
Tonight off on a river cruise with two Vietnamese gentlemen.
“Of this melancholy there be two sorts: one that, digested by our liver, swimmeth like oil above water and that is rightly termed women’s melancholy; which lasteth but for an hour and is, as it were, but a copy of their countenance; the other sinketh down to the bottom of the lees of the wine, and that corrupteth all the blood and is the causer of lunacy. Well-moderated recreations are the medicine to both; surfeit or excessive study of the causes of either.”
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