Shake it off—you don’t want to start your weekend the wrong way. If you have a house maid who prefers to watch the morning soap on TV rather do her job; and les parents are out already, run to the nearest watering hole and ask for the staple Pinoy bar chow: flaming spicy Bicol Express, sizzling sisig, steaming hot bulalo and as much rice as you can devour.
ASK LESS, GIVE MORE, THANK ALWAYS. #2013
Wishing everyone all the fun and success for the new year and beyond!
Delft is just 10 kilometres south of The Hague, 20 minutes by car, six minutes by the rail system and less than two hours of easy walking. Given that proximity it is quite a convenient weekend spot for a run or bike—which was pretty much what usually happened after a week’s worth of work at the Court (where I interned).
I usually started with a quick warm-up around my street in the southern outskirts of The Hague and pace up until the Line 1 of the tram that connects Delft all the way up to Scheveningen. Whether by foot or bike, the route is safe, convenient and scenic. But getting to Delft itself, one is rewarded with a relatively small town with the perfect mix of greens, a laid-back lifestyle, a homey city living and an upbeat social scene.
I have this make-believe-to-self theory: There are three most credible circumstances when the greatest ideas pop into mind: (1) being seated on the toilet, (2) being seated in a long flight or a long drive [by car, bus or train], and (3) being seated with alcohol in hand. The first two have always been obvious, but lately I decided to take the third choice…and unfortunately blew it out of hand.