Latest news with #GoldLabel
The Age
6 days ago
- The Age
They might be tacky, but this is why I buy souvenirs
There is coconut candy from the Mekong Delta in my kitchen drawer and a bottle of Kowloon Soy Co. Gold Label soy sauce in the cupboard. They're my travel souvenirs, tangible reminders of where I have been. Every time I sneak another sweet, I'm swept back to the Hai Van coconut farm on the Mekong Delta and the family of sisters who wrapped them by hand, freshly made and still warm. And every time I reach for the soy sauce, I remember the little shop in Hong Kong where I talked to the fellow who had made it; one of the last remaining local producers on the island. These things inform my eating and my cooking, and make me feel warm and fuzzy every time I open the cupboard or the drawer. Souvenirs are funny things. An entire industry has been generated by our need to say 'I was there', and to prove it with something small, mass-produced and badly painted. Yes, I bought the small Eiffel Tower replicas on my first trip to Paris, and still regret not buying the bedside lamp version that lights up and sparkles at the press of a button. I bought a souvenir moose in Canada, but that didn't make it home because it was actually made of chocolate (as in chocolate moose). And no, I did not buy a kitchen apron in Florence emblazoned with the full-length naked image of the Statue of David, but only because they didn't have my size. Souvenirs appeal to the obsessive collector that lurks within us all. Buy one snow dome of silver glitter raining down upon Moscow, and you will buy 300, one from each city you will ever visit. It's also very tempting to purchase something papal in Rome, or something royal in London, if only ironically (there's a big market in ironically-motivated souvenirs – I think they're on to us). Some of the best souvenirs are bought by necessity, like the coasters I bought to protect my fancy hotel bedside tables from teacup rings.
Sydney Morning Herald
6 days ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
They might be tacky, but this is why I buy souvenirs
There is coconut candy from the Mekong Delta in my kitchen drawer and a bottle of Kowloon Soy Co. Gold Label soy sauce in the cupboard. They're my travel souvenirs, tangible reminders of where I have been. Every time I sneak another sweet, I'm swept back to the Hai Van coconut farm on the Mekong Delta and the family of sisters who wrapped them by hand, freshly made and still warm. And every time I reach for the soy sauce, I remember the little shop in Hong Kong where I talked to the fellow who had made it; one of the last remaining local producers on the island. These things inform my eating and my cooking, and make me feel warm and fuzzy every time I open the cupboard or the drawer. Souvenirs are funny things. An entire industry has been generated by our need to say 'I was there', and to prove it with something small, mass-produced and badly painted. Yes, I bought the small Eiffel Tower replicas on my first trip to Paris, and still regret not buying the bedside lamp version that lights up and sparkles at the press of a button. I bought a souvenir moose in Canada, but that didn't make it home because it was actually made of chocolate (as in chocolate moose). And no, I did not buy a kitchen apron in Florence emblazoned with the full-length naked image of the Statue of David, but only because they didn't have my size. Souvenirs appeal to the obsessive collector that lurks within us all. Buy one snow dome of silver glitter raining down upon Moscow, and you will buy 300, one from each city you will ever visit. It's also very tempting to purchase something papal in Rome, or something royal in London, if only ironically (there's a big market in ironically-motivated souvenirs – I think they're on to us). Some of the best souvenirs are bought by necessity, like the coasters I bought to protect my fancy hotel bedside tables from teacup rings.
The Age
6 days ago
- The Age
They might be tacky, but here's why souvenirs matter
There is coconut candy from the Mekong Delta in my kitchen drawer and a bottle of Kowloon Soy Co. Gold Label soy sauce in the cupboard. They're my travel souvenirs, tangible reminders of where I have been. Every time I sneak another sweet, I'm swept back to the Hai Van coconut farm on the Mekong Delta and the family of sisters who wrapped them by hand, freshly made and still warm. And every time I reach for the soy sauce, I remember the little shop in Hong Kong where I talked to the fellow who had made it; one of the last remaining local producers on the island. These things inform my eating and my cooking, and make me feel warm and fuzzy every time I open the cupboard or the drawer. Souvenirs are funny things. An entire industry has been generated by our need to say 'I was there', and to prove it with something small, mass-produced and badly painted. Yes, I bought the small Eiffel Tower replicas on my first trip to Paris, and still regret not buying the bedside lamp version that lights up and sparkles at the press of a button. I bought a souvenir moose in Canada, but that didn't make it home because it was actually made of chocolate (as in chocolate moose). And no, I did not buy a kitchen apron in Florence emblazoned with the full-length naked image of the Statue of David, but only because they didn't have my size. Souvenirs appeal to the obsessive collector that lurks within us all. Buy one snow dome of silver glitter raining down upon Moscow, and you will buy 300, one from each city you will ever visit. It's also very tempting to purchase something papal in Rome, or something royal in London, if only ironically (there's a big market in ironically-motivated souvenirs – I think they're on to us). Some of the best souvenirs are bought by necessity, like the coasters I bought to protect my fancy hotel bedside tables from teacup rings.
Sydney Morning Herald
6 days ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
They might be tacky, but here's why souvenirs matter
There is coconut candy from the Mekong Delta in my kitchen drawer and a bottle of Kowloon Soy Co. Gold Label soy sauce in the cupboard. They're my travel souvenirs, tangible reminders of where I have been. Every time I sneak another sweet, I'm swept back to the Hai Van coconut farm on the Mekong Delta and the family of sisters who wrapped them by hand, freshly made and still warm. And every time I reach for the soy sauce, I remember the little shop in Hong Kong where I talked to the fellow who had made it; one of the last remaining local producers on the island. These things inform my eating and my cooking, and make me feel warm and fuzzy every time I open the cupboard or the drawer. Souvenirs are funny things. An entire industry has been generated by our need to say 'I was there', and to prove it with something small, mass-produced and badly painted. Yes, I bought the small Eiffel Tower replicas on my first trip to Paris, and still regret not buying the bedside lamp version that lights up and sparkles at the press of a button. I bought a souvenir moose in Canada, but that didn't make it home because it was actually made of chocolate (as in chocolate moose). And no, I did not buy a kitchen apron in Florence emblazoned with the full-length naked image of the Statue of David, but only because they didn't have my size. Souvenirs appeal to the obsessive collector that lurks within us all. Buy one snow dome of silver glitter raining down upon Moscow, and you will buy 300, one from each city you will ever visit. It's also very tempting to purchase something papal in Rome, or something royal in London, if only ironically (there's a big market in ironically-motivated souvenirs – I think they're on to us). Some of the best souvenirs are bought by necessity, like the coasters I bought to protect my fancy hotel bedside tables from teacup rings.
New Indian Express
28-04-2025
- Politics
- New Indian Express
Not a single stretch was free from potholes, MP Tejasvi Surya after TCS 10K Run in Bengaluru
BENGALURU: Bangalore South MP Tejasvi Surya, who took part in the TCS 10K Run on Sunday, wrote an open letter to Deputy Chief Minister DK Shivakumar, who is also Bengaluru Development Minister, and Bruhat Bengaluru Mahanagara Palike (BBMP) Chief Commissioner Tushar Girinath that roads in the city are pathetic and not a single stretch was free from potholes. He claimed that many runners stumbled and got injured due to the potholes. Surya said he ran in the Mumbai Marathon two months ago and the experience was incredible. 'And today (Sunday), it hurt so much to see our city like this,' he lamented. Stating that he has written the letter not only as an MP from Bengaluru, but as an angry and disappointed citizen and participant of the race on Sunday. He said most participants share the angst. 'While it was a matter of great pride to see close to 40,000 people, including some of the world's best athletes, senior citizens, participate in the event, it was equally disappointing to witness the state of our city's roads and public infrastructure - right in the heart of the CBD (Central Business District).' He said, 'CBD roads, which are supposed to be the best roads in the city, are in an absolutely pathetic state - like the roads in the rest of the city. Not a single stretch was free of potholes. Many runners stumbled, sprained their ankles and some even got injured. Senior citizens struggled to even walk without risking a fall.' He said the wheelchair participants had to be assisted throughout the route, not because of their condition but because of our city's unforgiving infrastructure. Garbage dumps at multiple locations, stinking corners and broken footpaths painted a very poor image of Brand Bengaluru, he said. Pointing that many runners look forward to the race, he said, 'They (runners) train, travel and participate with excitement. What we offered them was an obstacle race instead of a world-class experience. We were hosting a Gold Label event, certified by the World Athletics body with athletes from around the world. What image did we portray of our city? Is it so difficult to ensure a bare minimum - pothole-free, clean roads at least for one of the city's premier events? Every road of the city looks like a construction site - dusty, potholed and lifeless.' Holding Bengaluru development minister and BBMP commissioner directly responsible, answerable and accountable for this state of affairs, Surya said, 'I urge you to take this matter seriously, not just for the sake of the TCS 10K or marathons, but for every citizen of Bengaluru who negotiates these roads daily.'
