Scott's Southeast Asian Adventures

The other day I'm sitting at my desk, talking to someone on the phone who is nowhere near the Little Red Dot. "So, how's Singapore," the caller asks. "Hot," I say. I've had that question a lot the past year, and "hot" is my knee-jerk response every time. How could it not be? It's one thing you can absolutely bank on here. Any day of the year. Any time of the day. Even when the sun goes down, "it's tropical," as my mate Howie likes to say, especially when he's got sweat pouring off his face. But Singapore is nothing if not fairly predictable across the board. Which is why you can also be certain that: * Your car will stick out like a sore thumb if you drive forward into a parking spot. Singaporeans back in, folks (see photo, below). No law saying you have to. They just do it. All of them do. * A security guard won't do much to thwart a throwdown. I watched a bust-up break out the other night at the beer festival. Some A...

Now that I've lived in Asia for the better part of three years, and therefore managed to tee it up at a fair share of the region's finest golf courses, I figure it's high time to name my faves. Naturally, most of the layouts I've experienced are in Vietnam and Singapore. But I've also been lucky enough to test tracks in Thailand, Indonesia and Hong Kong. I've seen what Cambodia's got, too. And they look fun. Of them all, though, these are the top 5: 5) Banyan (Hua Hin, Thailand) -- When it comes to course conditions, few hold a candle to this newbie. The views aren't too shabbie, either -- especially from the clubhouse veranda, which looks out over a quiet valley backdropped by the Burmese Mountains, or the 15th tee, with the Gulf of Thailand in the distance. Spectacular. 4) Nirwana (Bali, Indonesia) -- The thing I love about Nirwana isn't its proximity to the Indian Ocean, or how the iconic Tanah Lot temple is just so cool to look at -- it's how...

Sitting here in Singapore on a Sunday night and an old episode of No Reservations has got me thinking. It's the one where the show's host, Anthony Bourdain, is in central Vietnam experiencing Hoi An for the first time. He's eating banh mi at the local markets. He's walking the little pedestrian-only streets that weave between centuries-old shop houses. And he's discovering he likes it so much he wants to know if it's a place he could actually live for a while. Enter Ly Tran, wife of Duc Tran, owner of two of the best restaurants you'll find not just in Hoi An, but anywhere (if you ask me). She leads Anthony around the area on scooters, showing him housing options that run the gamut from bare-bones traditional to too-good-to-be-true. I start to reminisce because everything about the episode is so familiar, right down to Bourdain's lovely tour guide. Claire and I got to know Ly (and, of course, Duc) during our two years living in Vietnam. So much so that...

Wednesday night. Work brain shut off. Ten laps in the pool under my belt. Dinner a cookin' on the stove. I'm thinking... well, random thoughts. I'm thinking stuff like: "Do you like websites?" An interview question by Zach Galifianakis. I was going to watch just one episode of Between Two Ferns this morning -- the one with "someone named Bradley Cooper" (pictured below in a slapping contest with Zach). I ended up watching them all. The one with Jimmy Kimmel is especially good. Zach: "Have you ever farted on a cocker spaniel?" Jimmy: "No. No, I can't say that I have." Cheers to my boy Ryan Tanner for drawing my attention to this noise. Unreal, is right. I'm also thinking: Why does StarHub TV's sports add-on cost so damn much? It's like two times times the price of the basic cable package, which offers a gazillion channels. Is it because they know the people in this town will pay anything in order to watch English socc...

It's officially 2010. We rang in the new year last night from Singapore's Boat Quay, where there was no shortage of fireworks -- both in the sky, and at the pub after a few of its patrons had one too many Jaeger bombs. But that's another story. I've decided, as I embark on a decade that will take me through my 44th birthday (god willing!), to write an entry in the spirit of Esquire 's "What I've Learned" column, with an emphasis on my time in Asia. My early 30s has been a time of tremendous growth and... realizations. Just a few of the things I've learned during the past 30 months: You can get the game (thanks, www.justin.tv), but the time difference is a killer. Tiger beer rules. The food rules too, but there are days I would die for a proper, American barbecue. Vietnam has color and chaos. Singapore has quality and... malls. Only the Western world (and Singapore) believe in queueing. You haven't seen anything until you've been on a cyclo ...

It's 11:23 a.m., we've just wolfed down our scrambled eggs and toast, and now find ourselves asking each other, Now what? It's Christmas Eve. We've gotta do something. A few options that immediately come to mind ... We could pretend we're in Seattle. And by that I mean grab our umbrellas and take a walk in the rain. Looks like an all-day affair out there. We could buy some booze. Our friends Adam and Millie are throwing a Christmas Day bash tomorrow and it ain't gonna be dry. We could count the many Christmas presents under our giant Christmas 'tree' -- a tropical plant we bought at IKEA and have decorated with some gold stars. Gorgeous. We could Skype with family back home. It can be especially entertaining when my bro decides to shove two-week-old Liam into the Skype cam and he ain't havin' it. We could try to score tickets to Jim Carrey's A Christmas Carol . But tough task: Singaporeans love their movies, lah! We could drill holes in the ...

It was looking bleak. A few days before Turkey Day, Claire and I were still asking each other, "What are we gonna do for Thanksgiving?" Neither of us really had an answer. "Dinner for two, I guess," she'd say. "Sounds good to me," I'd say. Pathetic. But then... an email. One with an invitation from our friends Andrew and Ali, who were planning an epic bash at their pad. Decision made. We showed up at 7, stuffed oysters and champagne already going around a crowd of other thirtysomething Americans -- a couple from Tulsa, a guy from Ashville, a girl from Atlanta, at least half a dozen more we'd never met but were quick to make friends with. Ah, the ease of fitting in as an expat. At least for guys. Hear a familiar voice in a foreign country, conversation is cake. We mingled for what seemed an eternity before finally taking seats at a long, elaborately decorated table. Dinner was served. It started with pumpkin-and-ginger soup and ended with pecan...