i'll hold memories, fond or otherwise of these from overseas:

being horribly lost (& cold & wet) in Paris. all the wrong turns, standing at the intersections of streets staring at road names with map at hand, trying to get my bearings right. Desperation in trying to beat the clock to get back before the daylight fades away. making my last wishes in my mind, seriously thinking i'm going to die on the cold wet Paris streets, with no one to collect my corpse when i collapse. You can't imagine how my feet were shutting down (so numb i can't feel it, but still walking), so its only a matter of time when the thing gets frozen. My hands were already frozen, numb, white, senseless. So if my another operational limbs fail, i'll be a sad casualty. When i got back to the hostel, it took like an hour before my hands got back to its senses.

Quiet Time at a warm & cosy Starbucks at 11pm. i ventured out at night (purpose to go HardRock), felt so comfortable escaping into a warm & spacious Starbucks cafe(so unlike Singapore). a break from the biting cold outside, it was so enjoyable sipping a cup of hot cafe mocha, while doing some reading. the atmosphere (ambience) was really nice too, with the high high ceilings, smell of coffee, Parisians enjoying their night out chatting with friends, most importantly, the warm air. i'd intention of spending my night there.

Smoking. = i can't continue this because LDZ just hauled me over to Al-Azhar=
Vin