End of the road at Pierce Point, Singapore, taken during an early morning walk.
There’s no virtue in it for me—I wake up early. It was never a struggle.
I’m a morning person. I’m usually awake by 5 AM—6 AM if it’s a holiday or if I had stayed up late in the night, which rarely happens. My brothers seem to follow the same circadian rhythm. As children, our parents woke up before us. They’d have coffee in the porch or in the garden at 5:45 AM, then we’d be up by 6 AM, at which point my mother would dish out her instructions for home work—literally, chores to be done at home. My father wanted us out of the house to enjoy the early rays of sunshine. He’d take us walking or jogging to as far as Rizal Park near the SMRAA complex, occasionally with Rocky, our spitz, by the side. We’d be done by 10 AM. We’d take our morning showers after having tended to mother’s plants or having made sure the windows were sparkling, only to be drowned to sleep by ABS-CBN Tagalized cartoons. I still get my best sleep at 10 in the morning—I attribute that to how I’d been brought up.
During summer vacations which we spent with our relatives in Polomolok, what to do with the early mornings was a problem. Our cousins slept until 8 AM, so I had nothing else to do, nobody else to talk to, from 6 AM until then. I’ve developed the ability to sneak out of the bed, rummage through the encyclopedias and dictionaries and atlases in the house, and this was how, as a child, I had learned about Chile, among other things. This explains why the best time for reading is around this time, when the sun has just risen.
Nothing arouses playfulness like the first experience of snow. From Gare Paris Est, I took an 11-hour train journey to Vienna, crossing ...
I PLANNED ON doing nothing today—at least nothing as touristy as going to the Schoenbrunn Zoo (ok, maybe in two days). Of course, I had my u...
TOUR guides always refer to Christianity as if it were something distant: something that needs mentioning, but not too much. Talk about anyt...
I got an email from a reader asking me for tips for the UP College of Medicine interview. I don't know how else to respond, except to sa...
This morning I overhead at the Schoenbrunn Palace, the Habsburg summer house, a family who looked brown and noisy and happy enough for me to...
“You have put more joy in my heart than they have when then their grain and wine abound. In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for yo...
IN A few hours I'm hopping on a train that will take me to Munich, Germany; then to Vienna, Austria, where I'll be staying for a f...
DESPITE the snow, I emerged out of my bed in Hütteldorf to take the U4 to Karlsplatz, where I could walk my way to Karlskirche. I was goin...
MAVIS Gallant’s stories have been with me for the past days. Paris Stories, selected by the writer Michale Oondatje and published by NYRB,...
The subject of my blog came up as we wrapped up our evening ER rounds—five patients so far; three we could potentially send home. But the ni...
- ▼ February (7)
- ► 2015 (80)
- ► 2014 (92)
- ► 2013 (156)
- ► 2012 (151)
- ► 2011 (179)
- ► 2010 (195)
- ► 2009 (163)
- ► 2008 (158)
- ► 2007 (110)
- ► 2006 (156)
- ► 2005 (99)