Sri Lanka, Day Nine: The Beach

As a further testament to exactly how well the baraat was being treated by our Sri Lankan hosts, we were all to be taken to a beach resort in Ahungulla for a couple of days and a night in which to bond, enjoy each other's company and bid our farewells - a sort of long winded but very much appreciated goodbye if you will.

 

The resort was, of course, beautiful, with a semi private beach we all spent way too much of today on. The Indian Ocean (which I've never actually stepped in before) was wonderful: just the right temperature to stay comfortable while popping in and out of, while the waves were of just the right level of thrilling and calm in which to have fun in. I don't think I've spent so much time in the sea before today.

We built castles and faces in the sand, drew diagrams and messages and even buried people. It was the kind of carefree fun that only really happens during that perfect moment after a wedding while on holiday (that is to say: not too often). Sunset eventually came, and with it showers and dinners.

The late evening was spent with all of us (so around 40 odd) playing games including quizzes, charades and truth or dare: more silly stuff that took us well into the morning of the next day. It really was Sri Lanka Good Times.

(Photos of my time in Ahungulla can be found here)

Sri Lanka, Day Eight: The Valima

Another easy going day, with lunch hosted for my immediate family at the Colombo Club at The Taj. It was yet another great meal with great company (I lose count how many I've had this trip) and yet slightly poignant as it also marked the end of the first chapter of this trip: our time in Colombo.

Tonight's Valima at the Cinnamon Grand was the last of the wedding events and a nice way to end all the proceedings. Guests and family had started to leave by this point too so it was also a chance to say goodbyes and make promises to cement the new relationships and keep in touch - as well as maintain existing ones as by yet further chance I bumped into that honeymooning couple again (I think they were getting bored of serendipity by this point).

Yasmin and Kashif

It's definitely a blessing having so many people around me getting married, but sooner or later there was bound to be a clash - in this case a total of three couples tying the knot in three different continents, all on the same day, meant I had to miss out on witnessing the celebrations. I guess I should be thankful that it hasn't happened before till now. If there was a way to have travelled the distances involved to attend all three I would have done so.

Yasmin is one of those pretty smart chicks who has the uncanny ability of being easy to talk to - I'm sure it has something to do with intelligence or being a good listener or something - and I've had a lot of wisdom from her over the years, particularly when it came to the whole game of finding a spouse. For sure, a part of me will miss the trading of stories and advice, but it's a small price to pay to see her on the other side.

My disappointment in missing Yasmin's wedding is only tempered by knowing how happy she is to marry Kashif, but the good news is that I'm sure I'll have the opportunity to catch up with them as they begin this amazing journey of theirs.

Imraan and Zeenat

Some friendships just naturally lend themselves to analysis. Take mine and Imraan's for example: we live a continent apart, have only met once (although that "once" did involve crashing at his place for a few days) and yet when we do talk it's like we're old friends (qualification: this may be one sided, but I don't care). Of course it helps that we have some things in common - a paradoxical blend of cynicism and optimism, that level of literacy and articulation that allows the efficient transfer of opinion and idea, and finally of course the innate ability to navel gaze. Sure we don't speak as often as we should, but when we do it's always fun.

Both this friendship and commonality make his marriage today particularly striking, and not least in a "if he can do it there's hope for the rest of us" way. Seeing him happy and excited makes me happy and excited, primarily for him but also for myself, and I expect to learn a lot from seeing Imraan get on with things. As is becoming way too common I haven't yet met Zeenat, but I am looking forward to doing so and I expect it will happen sooner rather than later.

My only regret is that I wasn't able to attend - but for sure it was only a family wedding in Sri Lanka that could have stopped me from doing so.

Sri Lanka, Day Seven: The Nikkah

And so, the day had arrived, the reason so many in the family had travelled (not that anyone was complaining - we had pretty much fallen in love with Sri Lanka by this point): the wedding day.

Midday was spent at the mosque witnessing the Nikkah, after which we began the mad dash to get ready for the wedding reception in the evening.

I don't think any of us could quite believe that only a week had passed - we had managed to cram a lot over the last seven days and it wasn't even over yet.

Sri Lanka, Day Six: The Lagoon

The wedding itinerary officially marked today as a "free day", which in we, in hindsight, should have exploited a bit. Instead a lazy start to head to Jummah, followed by an even lazier lunch before a meander to the Old Dutch Hospital for tea and small shopping resulted in the squandering of what time we had today - having said that I don't think anyone was complaining too much as it appeared we had pretty much exhausted most of the things to do in Colombo over the last week.

Dinner was at Lagoon, a wonderful fish restaurant at the Cinnamon Grand - most certainly the best food we had had in Sri Lanka so far.

Sri Lanka, Day Five: The Culture

After the events of last night we decided to focus on a being tourists again, so as we gained confidence in the street of Colombo we walked the 30 minutes or so to the Colombo National Museum where we spent a couple of hours taking in the exhibits. It wasn't a particularly amazing museum, but given the time I would have spent some more there.

The rest of the day was pretty easy going. I caught a massage at the hotel which was... interesting (more so than the ones I had in Vietnam and Cambodia which I never thought possible). Buyer beware I suppose.

The evening was spent at the Peethi of the groom where all sorts of gate, slipper and messy mendhi games were played, including some of the most drawn out negotiations for the return of chappal I have ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Still, the food was awesome and we got to see someone being thrown in the pool so the late ending was worth it.

Sri Lanka, Day Four: The Dance

Another free day, and so we went into full tourist mode and grabbed rickshaws to the Galle Face Promenade for bit of a wander and lunch. Oh a bit of a warning regarding rikshaws: although you can choose to limit yourself to metered cabs only the chances are that your drivers will compensate by taking the scenic route to your destination. Having said that even inflated rikshaw fares are dirt cheap so you might just want to gloss over the con this time. After lunching at The (somewhat overrated) Gallery Café my family were then taken to The Kingsbury for pleasant company and high tea which was a wonderful way to spend the remainder of the afternoon before the busy evening ahead.

Tonight's mendhi marked the first event of the wedding proper. It was a ladies only affair in the main, during which the men were treated to a lake cruise with dinner and live singing which I thought was a genius stroke in the recent age where men usually get left out to dry in the frivolities. It was well received and much appreciated and I something I hope becomes the norm as people choose to maintain segregation during (mainly Muslim) wedding events. Anyway, rant over.

After the majority of guests had left the remaining (mostly family) men did eventually join the mendhi proper: our side had some routines planned and they all seemed to go pretty well - I was hoping it would considering the weeks of practice we had put into it. We had a total of five tracks (including one with us wearing lungis), although I did manage to sneak one in with the bride's side too - only the two of us knew it was coming and I think everyone else was pretty surprised when we did it.

It was all a lot of fun, but sitting here thinking about the day and how it's Wednesday already makes me realise how quickly stuff is happening on this trip. We're blazing through our time here, which kind of sucks as we're having such a brilliant time so far too.

Sri Lanka, Day Three: The Curry Leaf

The day was left to us, so my father, cousin and I took the opportunity to meet a local family friend. Going at it alone was helpful as it allowed us to explore and observe Colombo a little more freely. Not only did we get a bit more of an idea of the geography of Colombo - most strikingly with how small the city actually was - but also the demographic and social make up of the place. Quite surprisingly halal food is plentiful and readily available in most places and between that and the availability of butt showers in the toilet (I know, right?) it became quite strikingly clear how Muslim friendly Sri Lanka is. And the best thing? Ironically that it wasn't a Muslim country and so was immune to some of the issues that brings. In short, Sri Lanka is possibly the most friendly non-Muslim country I've visited.

And yes, the women are also beautiful here which always helps.

Dinner was again a wedding related affair, although I did happen to randomly bump into a couple of friends who were honeymooning in Sri Lanka. I'll gloss over the coincidence (if only because it happens way too often to keep calling it that) only to agree with them with how good a destination Sri Lanka makes for couples.

Sri Lanka, Day Two: The Sizzle

Today was mainly family stuff - visiting the in-laws to be during the day (there were a lot of them) and also joining them at a steak restaurant for dinner. Wedding things might not give you a tourist view of a place, but it does a native one which in many ways is even more handy - knowing the layout of a place more than the centre for example, or seeing how native Sri Lankans deal with the everyday in their home town - these are insights that one might not necessarily get as a tourist.

The most striking thing I learned was how nice the people are here. Our hosts aside (who were actually wonderful), the people on the ground were amazingly smiley, polite and all round nice wihtout being overbearing - the kind of attitude that unfortunately seems to only come from a country that had been through a war relatively recently. Another shocking observation was how incredibly clean Colombo was; enough to shame those of us who call Karachi their second home. The cynical side of me wondered if these behaviours would stand the test of time, but for now I just accepted that brown people can actually do a decent job of their homes if they want to.

Sri Lanka, Day One: The Arrival

It is a bit frustrating when any advantage a direct flight has gets clobbered before even taking off by a flat tire. On the other hand, safety considerations aside, it was quite amusing to hear that our plane had one - and since the air stewardesses were nice enough to feed us I guess I wasn't too upset on the whole. For me holidays start at the originating airport - checking in, transit prayer, cute hostesses and cabin food are all part of the experience, delays or no, and so far the epic holiday which was to be in Sri Lanka had started off relatively well last night.

I think the first thing that struck me when landing was how green the place was. Seriously, it was almost like landing in a jungle. Still, Bandaranaike International Airport is actually an hour or so away from Colombo, so it made sense that we didn't get to see our home for the next week from the air. The drive to our accommodation did build up the excitement though, even though today was mainly about settling in for the days ahead. We were here for a wedding and that in itself promised a lot, but the fact that this was the first time the extended family had travelled anywhere was also something for me to look forward to and so far it seems my excitement wasn't overstated.

(Photos of my time in Colombo are here)

A Softer World

Once again, ASW says it how it is:

Lucky how contentment comes from within though, eh?

Food: Loaded Gourmet Burgers & Fries

Gourmet Burger seems to be the in thing now, with various "unique experiences" popping up all over London. Of course, it takes more than fancy decor and a doubling in price to make a place worthwhile, so sometimes it takes a good look to figure out if a place is decent or not.

We go there early - luckily so as the take away queue soon left the building. I don't think the place had been open that long so I'm assuming this was more due to novelty than quality, but either way it's not a terrible sign. Alas the staff did seem to buckle slightly under the weight of their popularity and there was a few mix ups when it came to ordering, and I'm still not sure if I got what I wanted - and I had finished my meal before my friends had even received theirs. Oh and the milkshakes had run out. Not looking that great any more.

What I did receive was a little on the cold side and visually had seen better days, but it tasted okay. The chilli fries were a saving grace I suppose.

So overall not particularly impressive, particularly as they charged a premium - a tenner got my my burger and half share of fries which is more than GBK, and would buy two (better) burgers in other (better) places. That said, it wasn't a complete disaster and I do see myself going back if only due to its vicinity to my home. I just hope some of the teething problems would have vanished by then.

Book: The Expats, Chris Pavone

Everyone loves a good twist in a tale - it's probably one of the few times one doesn't mind being duped; cheap tactics not withstanding. And a book about an ex CIA expat mum of two is bound to have its fair share of twists. However this is where I get stuck: due to the nature of plot turns it's probably not a good idea for any review to talk about them too much, but I will say that The Expats was flawed in the way it delivered.

But quality of suspense aside the book was overall a decent romp. It's not the most sophisticated book I've read but it appears to be well researched though and for those who are familiar with the European setting that is something that could be appreciated. Characterisation is, well, appalling to say the least - the protagonist Kate is such a cliché I couldn't decide whether the author was doing it purpose or not. The style of writing grated a bit as it flipped back and forth between times and places - I see a book that makes you work hard to figure out what's going on as a bad book.

If you have a quick week to spare you could do worse, otherwise there isn't that much to recommend here.

The Annual Inevitably Cynical "I Hate Valentine's" Post

Oh don't worry: the fact that this is my tenth post of vitriolic rambling is as depressing for me as it might be for you. On the other hand, I am impressed by the sheer stamina of the theme and although I don't know how they would look, I reckon I have at least another ten posts in me. Crikey. Ten! You can click the title link for the rest by the way.

But what exactly do I talk about this year? Could it be the unprecedented increase in apparent losership (a clear sign of whippage in my opinion)? Or how about how pervasive it's becoming in places I previously thought immune (oh why Karachi, why?)?

No, perhaps what I will talk about is my increasing indifference to the theme here, not because I denounce most forms of blatant commercialism, but because I've become even more cynical about anything and everything, of which my distaste of this day is but a mere iceberg tip.

Woah there, this post almost became seriously dark. Let's bring the humour back:

But hey, at least I got my own back on the day - Krispy Kreme offered me some sweets if I was to complete the old "Roses are red..." poem at the time I was claiming. I did so, humorously so I might add, and got not just one but two original glazed doughnuts as a reward. That extra doughnut was the difference between me being exploited and doing the exploiting, and so I see no problem seeing it as a win for the little man. There's no need to thank me.

Book: The Dragon Reborn, Robert Jordan

With three down and eleven to go, for me The Dragon Reborn was a bit of a turning point in the WOT series. So much happens in this book both in terms of plot and character development I find myself both curious and excited to see what else has been left for the rest. It became clear that this will be pretty epic, with more layers and more depth unravelling with each story (kind of like Dragonball Z if I could possibly make the comparison), but I'm left hoping that Jordan hasn't paced himself out of a good story (again, like Dragonball Z).

I found the book much more enjoyable to read on a technical level too, with the flows and jumping around much smoother and less jarring than the first two books. If I have any comment it was it was a bit "middling"; I didn't even realise I was at the end of the book until it hit me, but I guess this is par for the course in a series that spans so many volumes.

Food: Gaylord Restaurant

I challenge any East London schooled lad to resist chuckling at the name of tonight's restaurant. I mean: seriously? That being said I did already know that the place had been around for a while, well before its name became commonly used in a 90's school playground. But still, chuckle.

What made tonight really interesting (and possibly something I should be writing about separately, except I'm too lazy), was that it was actually hosted by a restaurant reviewing website I contribute to. This meant three things: firstly that it was to be a free meal; secondly that we were to be treated like royalty; and thirdly that it was to be a free meal. Now I'm not a foodie (which by the way is exactly how I had introduced myself to everyone tonight - insecure much?), but I do believe I have credibility and integrity and so apart from the over done transparency in this paragraph here's my official disclaimer: I have no doubt that my experience will be different to that which you might receive, and so if you choose to ignore this review I wouldn't blame you. It is only for completeness that I write it at all.

Gaylord in many ways is a typical Classic London Indian restaurant, and in many ways reminded me of my poignantly favourite of the bunch, Khan's of Bayswater. The menu (we had a special one created for us. Wowzer) was derivative of the normal; which is absolutely not to say it was bad, just not unique. We had the standard kebabs, tikka, prawns, butter chicken, paneer, dhal, chickpeas, nan, rice and poppadoms (I may have messed up the order a little). Of these the chops were the most visually impressive, being the size of my face, even though they didn't quite hit the spot taste wise. Oh and although we had them first I have saved mentioning the best for last - some amazingly novel amuse bouche consisting of gol guppay (or pani puri in my tongue), bhel puri and some papri chaat, all joyously delivered to us. It was a genius stroke as it really did literally get the party started. I'm not sure whether these were available on the a la carte menu, but if you visit make sure you ask for them anyway. Desert was kulfi and a flaming ball of gulab jamun laced with spiced rum - I of course took the virgin (and hence flameless) version. It looked more exciting than it tasted.

The service deserves a paragraph of its own. I don't think I've ever been to a medium class Indian joint with such good service: the servers were professional yet informal, and it almost felt like we had friends serving us at times. The manager was in a class of his own: words like humble, sweet, polite and conscientious immediately spring to mind. So yes, top marks for service (although I do have to once again point out that dastardly second paragraph up there. I know, boo). Price wise I cannot comment, but I would find it really hard to imagine a meal costing more than twenty a head here.

The overall evening was massive fun and a big part of that was, as always, due to the venue, and as my more experienced diner friends pointed out, some things can't be faked. But if I normalise my experience and remove the context, I think I would settle with saying Gaylord is a very solid place about which I have nothing special, but more importantly nothing bad, to say and if I ever happen to be in Oxford Street and fancied an Indian, I now know where I'd go.

Food: Mandalay Burmese Restaurant

I'd be lying if I said that Burmese food was ever on my list of cuisines to try. But this being London I guess it's not surprising that there's at least one restaurant offering a menu, and I have to admit I was quite excited at the prospect of checking it out. I didn't really know what to expect.

The place itself was a little slummy. We're talking a family owned, not-more-than-thirty-covers cafe style establishment here, but considering the acceptability of most chicken shops I don't see how that in itself can be cause of complaint. The menu was halal so we had lots of options - the fritter and spring roll starters were pretty good in my opinion, while the chilli chicken, mint lamb, fried fish and meatball curry were all decent if a little unfulfilling - both literally and metaphorically in fact. Service was a mixed bag: the staff and owner were very friendly but also very slow, but everything we ordered did come eventually. The place was packed this Saturday night and at least two reservation-less groups were turned away while we were enjoying our meal.

The bill was a very pleasant 12 quid a head which I found to be definite value for money. On balance though Mandalay was very average - a place I wouldn't go back to unless I was actually passing - which in a city full of options is no bad thing.

Ferozkoh: Tradition and Continuity in Afghan Art

Ferozkoh is a small and intimate exhibition held in Leighton House Museum in Kensington - don't worry, I hadn't heard of it before today either. The concept was pretty novel: there were 18 pairs of pieces on display, with each pair consisting of a historical item (loaned from the Doha Museum of Islamic Art) and a linked contemporary piece created by students of the Turquoise Mountain Institute for Afghan Arts and Architecture in Kabul, Afghanistan.

I didn't get it at first, but after a while I began to see the links between the, sometimes quite disparate, pieces - viewing this exhibition was therefore more active than usual. I even played a game of guessing which item was historical and which was contemporary, although there were only a couple that were genuinely puzzling - a testament to the contemporary artists I think.

My only disappointment was that it was all over very quickly - 18 pairs isn't a lot. But still, the House Museum itself was a pleasure to check out (the Arab room pretty much a must see if you're in Kensington) and if you haven't been it, along with the Ferozkoh exhibition, is well worth a visit.

Food: Princi

I would say that Princi was a hidden Italian gem just off Soho, except judging by how busy it was it kind of felt that we were the ones late to the game. But it was rightfully popular - clean and modern with some super friendly staff treated us well before the food turned up. The menu itself is a little limited for those who don't eat meat, but the pizzas we ordered were good enough to make me want to go back - the plan would be to check out the cafe side rather than sticking to a la carte like we did today.

£15 a head isn't the cheapest lunch in that area, but for a place to chill and enjoy the company you're with I can't think of many alternatives. Recommended.

SMBC

Who said logic and love aren't compatible?

Get this comic and you get me. Although I'm not sure I understand it fully (which in itself kinda makes sense).

Film: Waar

Objectively there isn't much going for Waar. It has some questionable acting, some interesting effects and a quite broken plot. I think "amateurish" is the word I as looking for, and a lot of the time in the cinema I felt I was watching a YouTube fan film rather than a international release. I don't really buy the whole "we should remember that it's a Pakistani film, bechara" argument as there have been examples of relatively well produced films coming from the country (like Bol). There's no reason this needed to be so shoddy.

Which is a shame, because the film did have potential. In fact I would say that its biggest mistake was in its ambition - Waar tries to be way too many things, follow way too many characters and tell us way too many stories. If it had cut down its scope a little I think it would have been pretty good. A special mention has to go to the hammy English (including a garden variety of swear words) - I think I was more shocked than I was was first witnessing Deepika kissing on screen. I guess that's progress though.

So not quite recommended then - unless you're a bit of a patriot. Which, judging by the applause given by the audience I was in, is a perfectly valid reason to watch Waar. And if I'm honest I didn't totally hate it; and might have even enjoyed it a little - but then on the other hand I can't quite help feel a little patronising when I conclude that it was a jolly good effort.

XKCD

Being common is a double edged sword. On the one hand it's great to know you're not alone. On the other, it sucks that you're not alone.

And it's especially bad when you don't actually like people.

Food: Novikov

The perceived market value of subjective material goods[1] is a funny thing. In effect it effectively describes the valuing of emotion - how we feel about things, or how they make us feel. Not that there's anything wrong with that - the ability to make someone happy for instance does have value and there's no reason why that can't be exchanged for money or whatever. This is why industries like art, entertainment or travel work. And as it's based on emotion it's also very subjective - so I might pay more for a decent travel experience but less for nice clothes than others would.

I guess the (or rather, my) problem comes from the irrationality of the emotional side of the trade itself, or specifically the exploitation and manipulation of that irrationality to inflate the market value of what's being offered. We are effectively conditioned to want things more than they're actually worth, even when you consider the real emotive factor involved until the disparity between the intrinsic and market value of something becomes pretty huge - eventually ending up in the situation where the disparity itself, or more accurately overcoming the challenge this disparity presents by shelling out (both privately or publicly) becomes the source of emotion, and not the item itself.

And so we end up with industries like those for designer clothes, shoes and handbags - and don't get me started on diamonds (I wholly recommend that article by the way). And before you guys pick up on the obvious correlation with the examples mentioned, I would also categorise fancy cars, food, the sex industry and even some parts of the movie world in the above - although the disparity between the market and intrinsic cost of an item might be evidence to demonstrate which demographic is most manipulated in this way.

Food is an especially interesting example. In theory the enjoyment of food is variable and so can go quite high - as can its cost. Ingredients can be genuinely costly to acquire and preparation is a manual task which warrants recompense too. And in a restaurant context there's value in atmosphere, decor and ambience; put it all together and eating out is more of an experience than a function. However as with the examples above, there are times when parts of the food industry will exploit how we perceive value of that experience too - especially in the current climate of food obsession.

So (after such a lengthy preamble), I essentially saw Novikov as a designer label restaurant. The disparity between the intrinsic and market value of the place most definitely placed it exploitative territory. The decor was okay, the layout crowded (although I would say the Italian room did appear better than the Asian room, where we ate). Service was not the best, with a two hour time limit (see: enforced scarcity) and pushy waitress hanging over our heads while we ate. I will say that the food was actually really very good, with some vivid tastes and textures presented throughout (with a lot of the menu being halal to boot). It certainly was not however enough to justify the bill - although I will say that those who order with prudence might just about fare better than we did. There weren't even any pretty people there which I could have, at a push, used to justify the visit (and yes, the irony in that last sentence was deliberate).

It was so bad that I'm not even going to say here how much it came to per head. I don't mind paying for "food experiences" and I do know of places where I would spend just as much (or even more) and feel it was worth it, but when I do eventually become a millionaire I won't be coming to Novikov. This is a place where you go to be seen, to tell everyone else you've been or even explicitly how much you paid; but if you would allow me a closing pun I left with the taste of shame rather than pride in my mouth.

[1] I'm no economist so if you think I'm talking rubbish it's probably because I am.

Book: Portnoy's Complaint, Philip Roth

The only reason I had even considered reading Portnoy's Complaint was due to a recommendation an (albeit anonymous) commenter made way back in 2011 while responding to my The Catcher in the Rye book review. In contrast to movie or music recommendations, with most book recommendations I receive I get I do put them in a list; and hence I do eventually get around to reading them.

And as with most book recommendations I get, I really did love reading Portnoy's Complaint. First of all it was pretty much purely character driven - this was almost by default considering it's written as a monologue - and there was barely any plot to be found. Secondly it's wonderfully written and oh so funny - I don't think any other book has gotten me more bemused stares from passengers on the commute due to my incessant giggling. And thirdly, as a thirty something single Asian guy (or perhaps not?) it was extremely easy to relate to - if not in the detail certainly in the family dynamics Portnoy describes as well as his expertise in being a curmudgeon.

The book was also very rude, but humorously so if such a thing is possible - at the very least it didn't make me cringe or feel uncomfortable like I was with, say, American Psycho or some of the chicklit I've had the pleasure of reading. Although some of it did get pretty graphic, I really don't think it was enough to put anyone off the book - or in any case it's worth taking the hit for anyway.

Anon.786, the commenter who recommended the book to me, actually put it quite well in describing it as Catcher for people of our age group. And like Anon.786 I can't help but recommend it now that I've read it for myself.

Film: Frozen

Frozen was a funny film - and I don't just mean funny ha ha. I mean on the surface it had all the vital ingredients of a modern Disney film: the cute characters, the songs, the overwhelming FGF and emotional triggers (or that could have just been me being a sap). But on the other hand there was also something missing, something insubstantial about the whole thing.

Take the plot for instance. It happened to be pretty well engineered actually, with many faces and sub adventures, all of which had me guessing and kept things fresh. But this lack of investment in an overwhelming story arc made it all a little shallow too - resulting in a pretty weak ending. The same phenomenon applied elsewhere too, from the characters (all very cute, funny and interesting when considered separately, but not quite gelling together as they should in a Disney flick) to the the music (which I really liked, even though I can't remember any of them now).

Other notes: The film was genuinely, laugh out loud funny and Kristen Bell's voice acting was as awesome as she is. Oh but it may have failed the kids test overall (but what do they know anyway).

Of course an average Disney cartoon is still better than most things out there, so if you're in need of something to watch Frozen is a definite option. It's just a shame it didn't evoke the same kind of magic and poignancy that Tangled did a couple of years ago.

Hijama

Like many other Islamic activities Hijama, or cupping, has become a bit of a fashion over the past few years. The idea behind it (essentially of using low pressure to suck out blood via some minor incisions on your skin) is pretty blunt and maybe even a little gross, but the practise is a Sunnah which for many is enough to give it a go.

Our local mosque ran some Hijama sessions today, held by Dr Sheikh Muhammad Zaenal Arifin a local cupping expert whose reputation I had already heard heard about from some friends who had already visited him separately. But more on that later.

The cupping itself was more disconcerting than painful or uncomfortable. It went exactly as expected - horns were used in this session, with an initial (dry) cupping being used to draw blood to the surface, followed by a tirade of incisions by a blade to the prepared surface, after which the horns were reapplied to draw out the blood. Any weirdness I think was due to the unfamiliarity of the set up rather than any physical reason, and I was pretty astonished by the matter which was drawn out (think raspberry jelly and you wouldn't be far off).

As well as the cupping, Dr Arifin's reputation comes from the massage he applies after his Hijama sessions. I had already seen reactions of fully grown men to his touch (which pretty much consisted of lots of shouting in pain), and although that as a challenge itself was something I had convinced myself I wanted to try one day, I didn't realise that was going to be today until saw Dr Arifin apply the cups - by which point it was too late to reconsider my options. Dr Arifin is a small Indonesian chap who instantly reminded me of Mad Dog from The Raid, although I'm not sure if I had made that connection before or after I saw him work, live, on the guy who I had been paired up with.

I like to think that I can endure most kinds of everyday physical pain. Sure, I have no problem expressing that endurance with (lots of) noise and (lots of) flailing of limbs, but I'd never walk away from something which I knew was going to pass eventually. And although today's "massage" (yes, with quotes) was very painful and perhaps the most localised, deliberate and intense activity I've ever partaken in, it wasn't unbearable - I think a great component of my own reaction was due in the main to the stories I had heard and not knowing what would happen... I would imagine the second and subsequent goes would be a more tolerable experience for all the first timers today.

But what about the after effects of the today's treatment? If I'm totally honest, I don't think I'm entirely convinced that Hijama is for me as a regular preventative medical practise. I may have felt a bit looser and lighter, but that could equally have just been my imagination too. However Dr Arifin did suggest some lifestyle changes I could make in my life based on what he saw in the blood I had let, as well as what he felt while massaging - all very sensible and relevant so I will try to take those on board. The massage was more of a novel experience and challenge than a treatment, and I'm glad I did it for the experience.

Dr Arifin and his associates currently run sessions in Ilford and a clinic Forest Gate - if anyone is interested in cupping or their other services than please let me know.

Film: Dhoom 3

Dhoom 3 really is a film that has everything. From the Stomp-like opening to Katrina's striptease midway and some astonishing height sizes throughout it's pretty clear that D3 covers all the bases any discerning Bollywood moviegoer would want.

It's not that Dhoom 3 is a particularly bad film - any Bollywood moviegoer would be well prepared in advance for that - it's the manner in which it contradicts itself which makes it quite hard to enjoy. Some rather shoddy special effects, a random striptease by a pretty redundant Katrina (which, admittedly, I probably would have paid the ticket price alone for) to an interesting back story that manifests itself as garbage in the narrative and even the astonishing disparity in actor heights throughout just made the whole film, well, jar a bit. It's a shame because if any franchise has proven how the adding up of parts might not matter it's Dhoom, so I can't help but feel that this flick was a loser by design.

What's really surprising (or perhaps not) is how amazing Aamir Khan was in it - I wondered more than once why the heck he had ever put his name and sheer talent to such a film. Unfortunately it's not worth sitting through even for his stellar performance and you really should wait for the DVD to watch this one.

On Return

There's something about Pakistan that makes me sleepy, all the way till we arrive at Heathrow. I could blame the weather, or the attitude, or how I have nothing much to do there except sleep, but I think it's more than that - possibly something about finally being able to relapse to the true state of being a relaxed and lazy so an so.

Although I am always able to easily return after two weeks in Karachi, there has been a slight change in my approach to Pakistan in this trip, including the desire to now go back more often. Linked with the disaffection I've begun to have toward travel in general (I noticed that I, quite gladly, had no real "tourist" holiday in 2013) I think that works quite well and suspect I'll be returning to Karachi sooner rather than later.

But for now I return to the UK and real life, and thus the rehabilitation of my sleep patterns, diet and the soles of my feet can begin.

Karachi Transport Wins and Loses

The good:

Having your own driver while shopping.

Riding pillion from Federal B all the way to Clifton and back.

The view from the rear facing seat of an extra large rickshaw.

The bad:

Awful traffic.

The risk of death while playing chicken at almost every intersection you need to take.

Having to flush your nasal cavity each time you take a journey through the Karachi smog.

The oh so ugly:

Having to sit on a wet seat on a Kala-peela Taxi.