Weekend vignettes

All around the airfield were small little private planes that looked like a cross between an aeroplane and a helicopter. After the commercial excesses of the Airbus 380 a few weeks earlier, these planes were provincial but stamped with their own brand of vintage charm.

Suddenly, out of one of the hangars rolled an aircraft that was positively gigantic compared to the surrounding minnows, most likely a military plane judging by its camouflage colours. “It’s a (Lockheed) C130 (Hercules), I think,” offered my dining companion. “It’s a military aircraft typically used to uplift cargo, like rations or supplies.”

How cool.

I love aeroplanes. I love sitting out here at Seletar Airport, in the casual outdoors of Sunset Grill and Pub, looking out at the airfield, the planes, the control tower with its beacons, the rudimentary runways and the small quaint hangars that bear only a passing resemblance to those back in the office.

Please don’t ever close down.

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I don’t quite know what to make of December Boys.

The unbridled joy and enthusiasm with which the four orphans gripped life and faced up to its difficulties touched me no end, and yet, the sheer desperation to get adopted and be cared for, lying so close to their innocence and childlike happiness, was heartbreaking. 

The vivid colours and rough textures of the Australian coast were simply gorgeous and it was nice to see Daniel Radcliffe not wielding a wand and clutching a fake scar for once.

But the plot development was poor, to me at least, and there was no one climactic scene that hit the spot. Radcliffe’s temper tantrum was poorly portrayed, his anguish and sense of betrayal did not quite reach deep enough.

The adult characters had an almost perfunctory presence, and the frequent interjections of Mother Mary sightings or visions of the nuns from the orphanage were totally annoying, a jarring shock to the overall feel of the film.

Nevertheless, this film is not without its merits, and I do think the beautiful cinematography alone is worth half the ticket price.

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It’s gonna be a long way back, but I think I will get there.

With whatever support I can get.

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Trattoria La Fiandra on Prinsep Street is quite a find.

The food’s comforting and good; the tagliatelle with bacon and mushrooms in a tomato cream sauce was extremely tasty, and the risotto marinara boasted more seafood than rice.

The deep fried seafood starter was refreshing too. The batter was lightly crisp, complementing the fresh squid, fish and prawns nicely yet discreetly, never overpowering them. The accompanying garlic mayonnaise was fabulous, and after the meal, Perf, JH and I looked at one another and declared that we would need to shut our gaps for the whole night for fear of dragon breath.

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Here’s to more weekends like this.