Singapore

Wow it’s warm.  No surprise there but you still get a shock at the humidity.  The energy sapping depletion of fluids leaking from the body makes you realise how those flowers feel when you all of a sudden look at them and in hours it seems they are shrivelled and wilting.  All bent over, hanging towards the ground.  I make it sound worse than it is but three bottles of water consumed on the morning walk around and still by the end of it felt like a wilted flower or Maybe  even spinach.

Came back to the hotel and decided to head to the pool and read books which was a great idea especially as nobody else had had it.  Enjoyed the large pool and sun loungers in solitude until an equally looking wilted couple plodded down the opposite end.  I shall not mention the couple of whippy snappers who flounced out of the gym and dived into the pool, speedos deployed, goggles engaged and swam relentlessly back and forward, then trotted off no doubt to do something terribly interesting and engaging.

We headed out this morning in search of the Sri Mariamman which is the oldest temple in Singapore and as previously mentioned it was hot.  We found a Buddhist temple on the way which had a service being held.  They welcomed us in and we stood in the glow of the gold and plastic flowers, breathing in the sticky incense whilst the devotees chanted to the beat of a drum.  It was actually really soothing, but still hot.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThe outside was imposing

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Buddhist temple

We wandered along further down the street and China Town was beginning to open its doors or should I say curtains.   Found the temple we had been looking for, it’s so different from any western style ever seen.  Even the Buddhist one has some sense of familiarity with its alters, and guild but this with its cows and people was very unique, or at least to us.
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Sri Mariamman temple

We finished wandering through China town which in the photo below looks cool and calm but you can’t feel the offending heat, paired with the sickly incense and the sweat dripping of your forehead.  So it’s time to head back to the hotel and that story is at the beginning.

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China town

art of the day

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Billboards

On the road again…..again

Looks like we made it.  Safely ensconced in Singapore with the foggy head and achy body of the long haul flyer, trying to stay up until at least 9pm in order to reset the body clock or at least try.  I so envy those people who just land go to bed because they are exhausted and wake up in the morning.

Singapore airport is certainly an easy one to land and transit.  We were out and in a cab within 30 mins of landing.   We are staying at the Sofitel in the city which is very nice. Got freshened up and to try and stay awake we went for a wander to see what could be seen and quickly got lost in the concrete jungle with no landmarks to guide us back to our hotel.   The towers all line up like fortresses smothering the ones behind. They are softened by all the greenery, lining  the paths, hanging from buildings, on the rooftops.  But it is very easy to lose your bearings.  The weather is of course muggy warm but a light drizzle accompanied by a gentle breeze seemed to cool it just a little.

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Croncrete jungles softened

With one less day to explore the city, tomorrow is it so here’s hoping for a big sleep and a clear head.
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Art of the day:  Asian doors.

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Whoops

Those of you you who know me well will know that I like to be organised.  I am a person of lists, and to do’s, of check and tick.   Despite my attempts over the years to be a go with the flow, I am more a carve out my own river and create my own flow.   Not liking to follow in the choppy wake of others.  Be organised, be independent, be responsible.  I am the one who looks at others and says, or at least thinks….”for goodness sake, how hard is it?”

I am the one who rants at grown children who check their passports the day before they fly and realise it is expired.  I am the one who finds it unbelievable that someone can finally make it to the security check in: after posters, and screens and loud instruction people, only to have to stop and take their water out of their bag.  I am the one who offers no sympathy but rolls my eyes at their carelessness.  Yes I am the one.

So no doubt you are all wondering “what has she done”, what is the whoops that leads this story as you would all guess by now that we are not “on the road again”.

To try and cut a long story short.  We arrived to check in this morning.  On time of course.  I open up the passport to scan at check in and WHOOPS I have my mother’s. How does this happen? You may well ask, and of course WH and I have asked ourselves many times over the last couple of hours.  It turns out that after a recent large family trip to Fiji, with 18 of us and bags and airport assist and rushing to catch a connecting flight….I know excuses, excuses…..mine and mum’s passports got switched.

A quick phone call and Mum makes a mad rush to the domestic airport at home with the said passport, but the plane doors have just closed so nope no can do.   She puts it on the next flight and we head to the assistance counter to see our options.   Turns out it’s easier to just ring the air nz number and the good news is we didn’t get the “caller demand is heavier than usual”. But a lovely lady who re-booked us for the next day and even waived the service fee, a small but lovely consolation for my stupidity.   Perhaps that will teach me to have more tolerance next time I am behind the “dumbass” in the queue who doesn’t tip out there water or one of the family doesn’t check their passport, you never know.
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I still feel a need to defend myself.  I know my passport number and expiry date off by heart.   I have a reminder in my calendar, on outlook and myairnz app to warn me if it’s going to expire.   I checked those passports whereabouts a week ago.  Check. Tick.   I put those passports in the suitcase the night before.  Check. Tick. I double checked on the morning of the flight.  One, two passports.  Check. Tick.  The moral of the story is open the bloody thing up.  Take nothing for granted and I guess also that shit happens.

So meanwhile we sit and await the domestic plane with the passport on it.  Then we will spend the night and try again tomorrow.  I am remarkably chilled, probably because it’s my stuff up, but as we know there are far greater things to stress about than flying  out a day later.

Tip

CHECK YOU HAVE YOUR OWN PASSPORT.

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