Homes from Home

The house that Martin Built in Perak, Malaysia

The last three years have been different, to say the very least. 

In 2019 I had made six (return) journeys, jetting around from Malaysia to Bangladesh, Cambodia, Ireland etc and back to Malaysia. During 2020 there was a single trip (Malaysia to Cambodia), in 2021 also there was only one trip (Cambodia to the UK) and so in 2022 the only flights I took were fro UK to the Czech Republic and return. Those were the Covid years.

In 2019, I would never have imagined that my days living in Malaysia would have been curtailed by a world devastating pandemic. I had lived in Chennai, India, for a short while, then there, in Malaysia, that South East Asian country previously known for its exports of tin and rubber, and which was rapidly becoming denuded of its ancient rainforest lands in favour of buildings and ‘oil palm’ plantations, for a little over fifteen years. And happily so.

My writing improved there, in that land dubbed (by some marketing company) as ‘Truly Asia’. I grew relationships there. My second book was published there. All in all I had settled into what I had considered to be, a life there, and never imagined not being able to live in Malaysia. I loved the mix of Malaysia food; and for those who know me know just how important good food is to me. I began my magazine there, built a house there, travelled in my ageing Asia Rocsta (4x4) around the ‘mining pool’ lakes watching otters and water buffalo, writing, always writing and being published in local and international newspapers and magazines. It was a good life, and then, it was gone.

In the March of 2020, I travelled to Cambodia for a little volunteer teaching. No sooner had I got there than the Covid 19 pandemic struck, cancelling flights and closing borders. For one year and four months I was waylaid in the country called Kampuchea by its inhabitants. Fortunately I was living in Siem Reap which is close to the ancient Khmer city of Angkor, known for its Wats (temples) and that Angelina Jolie film of the video game featuring the character Laura Croft.

I have to say that Cambodia treated we overstayers well, but then the Khmer government respects its relationship with foreigners and tourists too. There was never any hint that we were going to thrown out onto the mercy of world, which had happened in some other Asian countries. I hired a small apartment, and got on with the business of being separated from all I held dear in Malaysia.

Eating in Siem Reap was both easy and cheap. The local markets had supplied copious amounts of fresh food. Local eateries proffered cheap meals which were a blend of Thai and Vietnamese cuisines and there was, at the time, numerous ex-pat places to get everything from a taco to a dosa, not to mention ‘Eggs Benedict’ and burgers galore. In its own way Siem Reap was a haven. If you have to be stuck somewhere, that’s the place to be stuck.

It’s a truism that good things never last.

In its wisdom, the local council decided that as Siem Reap was not at that moment importing tourists, so it was a good time to dig up all the roads and pathways to attend to the mounting problems of water supply, drainage, sewerage  et al. Chaos ensued. Coping with the dust and virtually impassable roads, plus non-existent pathways, not to mention

 a pandemic, all became too much for this, perhaps not so adventurous, ageing traveller.

Just after the main international airport was re-opened in Phnom Penh, I exited to return to the one country I had never imagined returning to (after eighteen years) - my former home in the UK.

Something smoked fishy

Hello. I was going to say good morning only, upon looking at the time, I notice that it’s nine minutes past midday. So good afternoon. Another year, another blog.

I’ve just got back. From whence I observe you enquiring. From walking in the English Winter rain (a rain that I had formerly described in my very first published book - ‘Buffalo & Breadfruit’ [2012] still on sale at Amazon et al).

Let me explain. It was raining. I knew that it was raining, but I had promised myself to buy fish today. Yesterday I had slow-cooked (for 5 hours) a pot of vegetables (white cabbage, carrots and potatoes chiefly, with a little rosemary, smoked paprika, white pepper, a ham stock cube and some chipotle). I looked forward to tasting it for lunch. I did, it was bland, even with the addition of cheese. Dinner, instead of my usual repeat of lunch, was cheese-on-toast with yellow mustard.

This morning I balked at the very notion of being faced with the very same bland slow-cooked mélange of vegetables for lunch. However I was loath to chuck the remaining meal in the ‘food waste’ container (to be picked up on Thursday morning), so I went through permutations of helpful additions to bring the meal back up to edible status. To curtail a more lengthy ramble - I decided on smoked fish as my final choice. Not tinned, or fish with copious chemical additions but real, and preferably locally smoked, fish.

Having a further choice of an edible meal which incorporated a very wet and cold 2 and a half mile walk, eat the almost inedible or cook something else, my stubbornness clicked in. Well, at the very least, it would be an adventure. Well, not quite so much an adventure as a two and a half mile walk in the rain and cold wind (see Facebook reel) there and back again, but it was worth the effort.

Not wanting to go too much over budget, I rejected the very nice, yellow looking, smoked haddock, didn’t fancy the Lowestoft kipper and preferred the smoked mackerel. However a whole smoked mackerel was not cheap, and too large. In the end I bought a smoked mackerel fillet, smoked on this very island.

Of course I didn’t stop at buying mackerel. I also bought some very fresh cod spine (aka cod loin, as opposed to the triangular shaped fillet) for cooking tomorrow. I’ve not been able to get fresh fish since before Christmas (3 weeks) and I have really been looking forward to having fresh fish as opposed to meat (mostly chicken as it’s the cheapest now), or just veg.

And it was superb.