Adventures of the Anonymous in Singapore
We had a not too offensive 5.15am alarm and, despite the roadworks implementing major changes at the A3-M25 junction, arrived in good time at the airport. There was a minimal queue to drop off bags and minimal security queue, although the staff got their own back on us cutting under the empty, and therefore unnecessary zig zag queue lines by sending us to a scanning area right at the other end of the room. Where a level of chaos ensured. The hyper sensitive scanner meant a long queue waiting to go through. Obviously we both set it off and needed to go into the body scanner. Then Husband needed more 'scanning' as his metal knee added to their general excitement.
Our luck was in at the currency exchange. We had left it too late to order up Singapore dollars before leaving so went to the airport currency exchange who only had some as another had ordered up Singapore dollars to collect resulting in them have got in a few spare.
With plenty of time until the flight we settled down for breakfast and a much needed coffee and found comfy chairs in a bar near the gate for a Beirut beer.
After a while we were summoned to the departure gate and boarded promptly an hour and a half later, after the scheduled departure time.
On board we were treated to a very unique video safety announcement with a mix of rock, bohemian rhapsody and rap along with a dance troupe setting out the key information.
Shortly after take off lunch was served at which point we realised there must have been a moment in booking or checking in when we could have indicated Husband's meat free dietary needs. But hadn't. So asked if there was a veggie option. Fortunately they did have one spare. I found the cabin toasty warm but Husband was shivering and wrapped up in his blanket. Then we settled in for the long flight.
I turned my TV screen off so that I could read. However, I'm not sure exactly what I did to it as I was completely unable to get it come back on or work at all thereafter. We both tried, unsuccessfully, several times.
After a 12.5 hour flight we landed at Kuala Lumpur and needed to find our connecting flight, the layover having been reduced by our late departure. We found it was G6. The next conundrum was to find the way there. We were by C gates with no immediate clues. We walked down a long corridor of C gates and finally saw a signpost to G - via a bus replacement service as the train shuttle was undergoing improvements. The consequences of this is that the place we were dropped off at was different to where the train would have deposited us. And consequently signage to connections broadly didn't exist. We found ourselves in a long, slow moving passport queue. I could see baggage carousels the other side and just wasn't confident this was right. I was also conscious that our connecting flight had probably recently opened for boarding. Husband went off to enquire. Sure enough we did not need to be in that queue and instead were instructed to go up a level (the level that the train shuttle arrives on) where we found G6 and boarding in progress.
At the neighbouring gate, somewhat confusingly, another Singapore flight was leaving. The confusion of this became clear when two chaps went to board and were told they had the wrong flight number on their boarding passes. They should have been at the other gate for their flight, which had now departed.
The onward flight aircraft was in a less good state of up keep - grubby carpet, worn leatherette and paint peeling off the wings. Our captain was very jolly and welcoming and before long we were off for the final 45 minute flight to Singapore. We arrived and were quickly processed through immigration but disappointingly did not get a passport stamp.
We caught a taxi to the hotel, checked in, dumped the suitcase and then wandered into the boiling hot city. While we were checking in the man noticed we had booked a year ago and commented that prices were now double because of the F1 race. He then asked if we were aware of it being a race weekend. We told him we were. We had in fact booked it a year ago while watching the 2022 Singapore F1 on TV.
Singapore comes to life after sunset when the heat of the day reduces so it was fairly quiet out. But we found a place to have a drink and lunch. Then decided to have a go on the underground up to Clarke Quay for a walk along the river back to Raffles Place.
The relentless of the heat did not lessen and as we went into the air conditioned coolness of the underground I remembered that most local people move through the city in these cool, shop lined tunnels. Similar to Japan. But you had to know your way around or you could quickly get disorientated or exit through the wrong shop. We returned to the hotel, unpacked and ventured out to the pool which was pleasantly cool and refreshing. We lay on a bed lounger and started to sleep.
Realising the night of sleep we had lost due to flying across time zones was catching up on us we went to the hotel room and set the alarm for 90 minutes time. The key to avoiding jet lag is:
1) on the flight, continue to operate on the time zone of the country you just left in terms of food and when you try to sleep
2) when you arrive, immediately switch to the new time zone and just get through the day. Do not give in and go settle down for an 8 hour nap as you will still be operating in an out of sync time zone when you wake up, bright and alert at 2am.
When the alarm went off I still felt awful and realised it might take a while to muster the energy to get up, shower and get ready to go out. It was still hot but cooler now that it was dark, with a warm but welcome breeze.
We walked up to to Boon Tat Street which, being after 7pm, had been blocked to traffic and converted into the hubbub of satay street. And an experience I had wanted to share with Husband since visiting Singapore alone, for work, in 2019. It was as good as I remember. Busy, thick with barbecue smoke, food smells, plates of chargrilled shrimp and meat, sticky fingers, jugs of beer.
We then wandered around the street side food court to see what other offerings were available and strolled onto the Marina Bay promontory to admire the city in lights. We sat there for a while enjoying the warm evening air before ambling back to the hotel for a very good nights sleep.
We woke soon after 8am, jet lag defeated, and went down for breakfast. As our room had a kitchen we were unsure if breakfast was included. It wasn't but we had it anyway, not yet having bought in any breakfast supplies of our own, tucking into the full selection of noodles, couscous, rice, chicken, porridge and muffins with custard.
We then set off for Sentosa via the American-style commercialisation of the monorail at Vivocity. Then took the cable car from Merlion to the Point. It was sunny and unremittingly hot. Below the cable car was a thick forest out of which rose a monumental din of birds and cicadas. According to the guide book there were also monkeys in it, which we neither saw nor heard.
Once at the point there was the option to continue on a path through the wood or take the more direct, wonderfully breezy, high level sky walk into the fort. We chose the latter.
We wandered slowly around the fort, exploring the tunnels which did at least offer shade from the burning sun, but no relief from the heat. How the second world war military operated in such temperatures beggars belief. Every time we emerged from an air conditioned exhibition room it was like stepping into an oven.
The fort failed to be a useful defence as in the end, and much to the disbelief of the British Government, attach came by land rather sea. It is very spread out across the coast and we were tiring with the heat. So after having a good look round, but not necessarily covering every single part, we went to the beach; pausing at a beach side restaurant for lunch.
The beach was fabulously quiet and empty. We had decided to use the beach at the fort end of Sentosa rather than that right at the end of the cable car ride, near the Disney theme park which we felt might be busier. We walked to some palm trees in order to find somewhere in the shade to settle. Quickly we discovered that the sand was very sharp. And very hot. Scaldingly hot. We stripped of, donned swimwear and, noting a sign instructing beware of stingers (worryingly) and otters (less worryingly), raced towards the water. I mildly braced in case it was cold. No need. I've had baths that were colder than this water. It was so warm. I swam out a bit further where the water became a little cooler and consequently a bit more refreshing. We stayed in until our skin was wrinkly, and observed a disappointingly large amount of plastic waste in the sea and along the otherwise pristine shore line. Above us zip lines raced down to a small island just off the shore. And out to see where dozens of massive tankers.
We dried in the heat, not having towels, and then started to head back.
There was no queue for the cable car although 'an hour from this point' signs were already up. Clearly a rush home was expected. Mid way through the cable car ride we could see a constant stream of people being brought back from the beach on ski lift style benches. At the Universal Park stop we expected the crowds to start, but there was nothing excessive so we were able to board a virtually empty monorail back to the shopping complex of Vivocity.
On our way back to the hotel we got in some supplies for breakfast and made our way back to the hotel where we managed to get more water outside of the shower than desirable, flooding both the floor and windowsill. It is also worth mentioning that the bathroom - and glass encased shower - were up against the window of the high risk hotel. In full view of several office blocks. Also, the ensuite was behind a glass wall which, with the flick of a switch, could be turned opaque.
After some down time we wandered out to Duxton Hill for dinner. The area was described as quaint houses by day and a vibrant array of bars and restaurants by night. And it was true to its description.
We meandered about, taking in the various food options before settling on a Mexican restaurant. The Waiter, George, came to take our order and warned that as it was a full house there may be a delay on food. We said that was fine, so long as we had a drink (chilled red wind was particularly nice). George fist bumped us and said he liked us. Perhaps he had initially confused us with Americans.
Anticipating a wait for food, I settled down to catch up with writing my travel notes (that then form this blog). About 7 minutes later food arrived. We informed George that this was not a delay, and he told us that some people would have made a fuss which seemed unbelievable.
After a good dinner we walked back to the hotel and managed to find some F1 coverage on TV, showing the bins and crates filled with iced water for the drivers to dunk into and cool down their core temperature. The glamorous life of an F1 driver! A lot of the driver training during the year is all focused on this race, and how physically hard it is because of the heat.
The following morning, halfway through cooking breakfast, a fuse blew, stopping all further toast and coffee plan in their tracks. We finished what we had and mentioned it to reception as we went out - primarily concerned about the fridge. When we booked the room it had said there was a toaster. We didn't have a toaster. Husband mentioned this to reception as well but was told that as we had a grill in our upgraded room, we didn't need a toaster. But the grill was more problematic and less efficient.
Our trip today, to Khatib, was the furthest out we had travelled. When we arrived there was a hot walk under the high level MRT to the turtle and tortoise live museum. Huge tortoises came running over to us, knowing that we (like all visitors) had handfuls of Chinese leaves. It's actually quite hard, and a bit scary, to feed a large tortoise - especially if you're keen on retaining all your fingers.
In a couple of pools there were smaller one who greedily ate the pellets we threw into the water. As soon as we wandered off a flock of birds who had been patiently waiting flew down to gobble up any pellets that had been spilled on the ground.
In lines of tanks were a variety of turtles, long-necked, pig nosed. Some which seemed aptly named and looked very bizarre.
Husband bought a cold drink, a refreshing white fungus which tasted of sweet vanilla but had some less pleasant lumps in it. Like pieces of limp lettuce.
We took the MRT back to Raffles Quay and went to Boat Quay for lunch, settling on tapas. We could hear cars on the race circuit. The sky darkened and for about 15 minutes there was heavy rain which did nothing to relieve the heat. Otter played with a sea snake in the river below us.
We returned to the hotel for another cooling swim and rest before setting off to the circuit for qualifying. It seemed remarkably quick, easy and uncongested to get to the track and amazing how it nestled within the city. The glorious dead were commemorated on various memorials within the circuit perimeter where they were barricaded off to ensure they weren't used to sit or perch your drink. But ultimately the freedom to do that is what those men gave their lives for.
It was dark and navigating our way to our stand was not entirely straight forward as the pathways were not that well lit. We had seats in Pandang, and the green was being used to hold vast queues for the somewhat inefficient food and drink service (pouring pints to order) as well as the main stage on which Kings of Leon were currently playing.
We had more of a view than I had been expecting for a street circuit and also qualifying was more exciting that one might have expected. But hot. So hot. After it finished we decided to exit via City Hall MRT rather than Raffles Place on the basis that 3 circuit entry gates were near to the latter whereas only one was near City Hall. Although this did mean we had to navigate around the main stage audience barrier and queues of people trying to get in to see the closing band. Other than that, the plan worked perfectly.
Back at the hotel we snacked on cheese and crackers and drank too much Baileys on ice. Which I was particularly aware of when we woke the next day. At it was race day and we didn't want to unnecessarily exhaust ourselves, we had nothing planned. So we got up late and started on breakfast, managing to trip a fuse switch yet again. Husband went downstairs to get someone to fix it and yet again demanded a toaster. He was told an electrician would be up in 5 minutes. About half an hour later, no electrician having appeared, he went down to make further enquiries with breakfast now at risk of becoming lunch.
Naturally, while he was gone the electrician appeared. I found out from him how to re-set the fuse switch - we had found the fuse box but couldn't make the tripped switch move back into position. He also said we needed to remove the metal trays from the oven before using it as a microwave. We hadn't planned to use the microwave function, but the instructions provided were unclear. Also, there were no microwavable shelves or trays and the fixed rungs to hold the shelves seemed to be metal. We decided not to use it anymore.
When Husband returned I told him he needed to absorb local ways and not insist on toast for breakfast.
Rather than spend all day at the hotel we went out to Emerald Hill to see the picturesque enclave of beautifully preserved, colourful Peranakan and colonial-era houses with neat shutters and rich, Chinese baroque architecture. Happily the pavement in front of them was a covered walkway.
More happily one of them was now a bar. On the bar top were two huge jars rammed with chillies and topped up with vodka. Naturally Husband had to sample something from the chilli vodka menu but found it not too spicy.
On our return we located a supermarket near to the hotel, many of the smaller shops being closed as it was Sunday, and got some additional supplies - including chocolate biscuits. These immediately melted so we put them in the fridge once we were back at the hotel.
Following a quick turn around at the hotel we set out for the race track. This time we arrived in daylight, but were equally confused about how to get to our stand, not recognising anything. We looked around a few food stalls, decided against spending $13 on a single slice of pizza, then went to the stand to watch the drivers parade.
The now cooled chocolate biscuits in the hotel fridge had totally stuck together.
An alarm was set for the following morning as I needed to get the mother from the airport. Singapore in morning rush hour was a different experience and I fought against the tide of people, arriving at the airport in good time. Bro the Younger and his family arrived soon after. Peppa Pig looked tired and was in the process of eating her way through a chocolate muffin the size of her head. Chocolate was all over her face and soon the sugar effect kicked in. We prepared the surprise plan, and where they would hide. When Peppa Pig needed to put something in the bin her mother told her she sould need to commando roll there and back if she saw Granny.
Bro the Younger had asked me to get Granny with her back turned towards their hiding place and talk to her about the fat person she would almost certainly have been sitting next to all flight. He also said that she would mention wishing she had brought the kids clothes and presents if she'd known. The mother had already texted me when her flight left to say she was sitting next to a fat person.
I waited at the arrivals gate. I could see others from her flight at the baggage carousel. But I couldn't see the mother. I wondered if she was struggling with immigration process which involved entering a lot of information onto a tablet.
Eventually she appeared and walked straight past the carousel her luggage should have been on to an empty, static one. I went to the glass barrier to try and get her attention and direct her, but to no avail. And helplessly watched her go from one wrong carousel to another. After a while she asked for help and was directed to the correct one, topped by monitors that clearly showed her flight number. She collected her bag and came out. I then successfully got her attention and, as planned, steered her round so her back was facing where Bro the Younger and co were hiding. The kids crept up as planned, tapped her on the back and Granny, long time no see. Whereupon she uttered an expletive and gave a good impression of someone about to have a heart attack. Then Bro the Younger and his partner, Lady Godiva came over. The mother was still shaking and in shock, saying she now realised how Bro the Younger felt when we surprised him in Ballarat.
We planned a rendevous for lunch and then set off on our separate ways. I took the mother to our room to freshen up as check in for her room would not be available yet, before we headed out to Clarke Quay.
As we walked along the river an otter was strolling along the promenade, leaving big wet footprints. And a pile of poo. Another group of otters was in the water, barking under the bridge. And we also saw a turtle.
Shortly afterwards we met up with the rest of the family. Peppa Pig had found a massive dry leaf that she wanted to hold on to.
The vibrant riverside district was not displaying its full potential at this hour of the day but did find a Turkish/Lebanese place for lunch. Thinking we shouldn't bring in the massive leaf, this was discreetly hidden outside. Bro the Younger took charge with ordering. An enormous amount of food arrived which we tucked into with gusto. I asked if all the stuff ordered had arrived - Bro the Younger then pointed out that this was just the starter and main course was still to come. He wasn't joking. But we made a good fist of it, retrieved the leaf and then bought tickets for a boat cruise along Singapore river and around the bay. Again the leaf was hidden to be picked up later. In the boat queue a lady asked me if I could take her picture. Lady Godiva said she would do it. Bro the Younger then told us that whenever she does a photo for someone else she takes masses and does a selfie hidden in the middle. By the time the recipient notices, she is long gone. When she had finished we asked if she'd done a selfie - yes she had.
The mother wasn't tired to we all came back to our hotel, checked in the mother, and smuggled Bro the Younger, Lady Godiva, Spiderman and Peppa Pig to the hotel pool. Their accommodation did not have a pool - well, a ball pool. After that their presence was a bit less subtle and noises, shrieks and splashing was the order of the day. It was hard to know what others around the pool made of it.
We spent a couple of hours in the pool, Peppa Pig becoming increasingly bossy. We let them go back to their place while we got ourselves ready for dinner - a return to Boon Tat Street with the mother. This time we had squid as well, which was pretty spicy. Husband went to the neighbouring food market to find something non protein.
I then took the mother for a walk while Husband returned to the hotel. We walked through the Fullerton Bay hotel foyer to the bay front, around Clifford Pier and to the Merlion. The light show was going on in front of Marina Bay which we watched as we wandered. Then the mother started to feel tired so we returned to the hotel for bed.
In the morning she came to our room for breakfast. Bro the Younger and family were going to Sentosa for the day, to a water park and the beach. We instead headed to the Indian quarter, starting with Sultan Mosque.
On the way we paused to admire the 1920s art deco styled Atlas building, which was actually built in 2002. There were interesting statues dotted around the square in front of the main building and a tour group wanting to do many selfies in front of each of them.
It was a burning hot day and we were inappropriately attired for a mosque visit, being in shorts and T shirts. Handily, the mosque had thought of this eventuality and I was given a dress to wear while Husband was given a long skirt.
The mosque interior was relatively uninteresting and we then had a long, hot walk to Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple where prayers were in progress. Again, I donned some available flesh covering clothes before mingling with the faithful who were wearing garlands of fresh flowers, standing in the temple singing and chanting, raising their arms above their heads at appropriate moments while the priests wandered around (topless but with robes wrapped around their waists that covered them from there to the ground) flicking water on the worshippers, and rubbing a red smear on their foreheads. Another priest was banging a drum that hung round his neck. It was loud, vibrant, noisy mayhem. Then suddenly it was all over and another chap came out to sweep up all the loose flowers that had dropped from the garlands and offerings that now littered the floor.
We found an Indian place with the intention of having a light lunch, and ended up ordering far too much. With the end result being that we unfortunately wasted a lot of bread and nearly a whole portion of black dhal. The waiter did ask if we wanted to take anything away, but aware of the heat of the day and unsure of our onward plans, we declined.
After lunch we wandered through the covered arcades over the pavements which had been filled with stalls selling clothes, elaborate gold jewellery, food, spices and garlands of flowers giving off smells of rose and jasmine.
Back at the MRT Husband decided to return to the hotel while I took the mother to see Emerald Hill, partly to show her the interesting houses and partly to revisit the bar for a Singapore sling, which was delicious.
Similar to Japan, the MRT station was in the underbelly of a massive shopping mall. I hadn't yet entered or exited the same way at the nearest station, and all the sign tried to lure you to the shops, with increasingly vague signage about how to actually get out.
We went on to the colonial quarter, where our F1 grandstand and circuit barriers seemed to be largely dismantled.
A large black cloud started gathering above, against which the white colonial buildings gleamed brightly. We looked at cast iron pedestrian Cavenagh Bridge which, built in 1869, is the oldest bridge and was built by Indian convicts. I also showed her some of the sculptures around the river before returning to the hotel for a quick swim and then dinner.
The black cloud had failed to deliver rain.
The pool was very warm and consequently less refreshing.
We had a booking at Palm Beach seafood restaurant where we shown to a large table with a lazy susan that was soon nicknamed crazy susan. In huge tanks at the back were enormous crabs that would soon by someones dinner. Some of the fish on the menu seemed to be served live and Bro the Younger wondered what the sea had ever done to Asia to make it so cruel in return.
According to the menu most of the meals were award winning. It was unclear what awards.
The food we had was delicious. We had tasty sushimi, duck, barramundi, rice, noodles and a large crab which Peppa Pig was very proficient ag getting into. Bro the Younger had a marguerita and put an olive in a spoon to spin round to Peppa Pig and repeated the exercise for Spiderman. Peppa Pig then span the spoon back with the stone in it. The Singapore Sling was not great.
We gave out birthday cards, presents and badges to celebrate the 80th, 50th and 10th birthdays happening this year. Spiderman loved his Ipswich football clothes, going to the loo to change into the T shirt and the mother got weepy. She had large, voluminous dresses for the holiday and dipping one sleeve into a dish of soy sauce as she reached out for the food, Bro the Younger said was was sensible of her to wear a patterned dress as it could hide things like that. I pointed out that the dress had been plain when we set out.
After dinner we ambled along the front, saw the back of the light show and found the Merlion cub, then ate ice creams before heading back to the MRT. Lady Godiva took a load of photos of us - naturally adding a selfie into the middle.
The following morning Bro the Younger video called us as we were having breakfast, to make plans fro the day. We arranged that after our visit to Fort Canning Park on Singapore Hill, meet them and then go on to Garden by the Bay. I let him know when I had left wi fi service. Returning to 1990, replied Bro the Younger.
It was hot. And sunny.
We found the tree tunnel, and large queue of people waiting to take selfies and posed photos in it. This seemed ridiculous, so we walked past the queue and just went up the stairs, ruining their pics. As we met people at the top, we told them to go down and also linger in the photos.
The park had a number of sculptures and old graves. We went past the enormous old colonial building over looking the cricket green, originally constructed in 1926 as a British army barracks.
From there we went to the spice garden where various information boards implied that Singapore had never successfully been able to grow spices for commercial purposes. We saw peppercorn plants and nutmeg trees.
Trying to stay in the shade, noticing - and hearing - chickens in the undergrowth, we wandered on. My umbrella was providing much needed shade. We arrived at the modest, single storied, neo classical styled white building, overlooking Singapore, which had the residence of colonial governors. While called Raffles House, the current building was constructed in 2003 on the site of Stamford Raffles's former residence. And he probably hadn't enjoyed the current view of Marina Bay Sands Hotel from his front door.
I continued to be surprised how much colonial past was maintained in statues, street names and buildings, even if the buildings were re-purposed.
There was a cacophony of birdsong and several plants which looked like contenders for providers of the massive leaf that Peppa Pig had found earlier in the week. Husband used his bird app to try and identify what one particular call was. A jakit bird apparently.
Dotted around the park were cannon, pointing out to sea.
We met up with Bro the Younger. He had wandered in to the park wondering if he would find us, and had also seen the selfie queue at the tree tunnel, thinking it little more than an underpass. Spiderman had commented that there were so many cool things in Singapore, so why were people queuing to photograph that.
Despite Bro the Younger having walked to things we saw, we hadn't actually seen until now, once we were at the other end. We went to their hotel briefly, and watched the kids play in the ball pit, then set out for Bay front. When we arrived, suspicious of the directions provided locally - potentially rightly so given our experiences in MRT shopping mall exits - Bro the Younger took as slightly randomly across a road at a non crossing place and then into the park. We found a lion sculpture made from plastic waste and (what we had been looking for) Planet. It was a disturbing, massive floating baby sculpture the mother had wanted to see.
We wandered through the supertrees grove, which were quite impressive by day, to Jurassic Nest for lunch, surrounded by dinosaurs which came alive each hour and which housed a suspiciously large proportion of Michelin awarded fast food places.
Thankfully the sun was now shielded behind a layer of cloud as we walked after lunch to the flower and cloud domes. But on discovering the exorbitant cost of entry ($58 per adult and a not dissimilar amount for children) we walked away again with plans to return to our hotel for a swim. But when we emerged from the underground near the hotel the rain was torrential. Expecting it to pass fairly quickly we stood in the shelter of the entrance and waited.
After a while it eased enough to be less wetting when we ran through it and made our way to the pool. There was perimeter space around the infinity edge of the pool to catch overspill, which was now quite deep following the heavy rain. Bro the Younger and Spiderman added to this by splashing up against the the edge repeatedly, trying to empty the pool. A group of men got in who were determined to do lane swimming and seemed frustrated that we were milling around, playing. And then deliberately getting in their way. We kept ordering constant supply of cocktails and snacks - and good Singapore slings.
We had given Bro the Younger a key card and hotel 'handy bag' which they put obviously on the table to make them look more like legitimate guests. The sun went down. Finally it was time for them to leave, with our next meet up due at Christmas.
The following morning we were all too aware of the drinking excess from the previous evening. We wished husband a Happy Birthday before setting off to Chinatown, initially to find murals the mother wanted to see. It was sunny and extremely hot.
We visited Thian Hock Keng temple - the oldest temple of the Hokkien people in the country - admiring the door paintings and very elaborate decorations before heading round to the back wall of the building to look at the murals which kicked off our tour of Chinatown based on mural location.
Mother wanted to go inside Sri Mariamman Temple which was probably less interesting than its dramatic entrance tower, which required her to take her shoes off before then walk across burning hot paving tiles into the temple. I waited outside in the shade, trying to stay cool. We circumnavigated our way back to Husband for a much needed iced coffee. We returned to the hotel via Maxwell Road and the hawker market before indulging in a long afternoon relaxing at the pool.
In the evening we made our way to Raffles. Bro the Younger and family, in the meantime, had flown to Georgia and sent picture of the completely free to enter cloud forest they had walked through at Doha airport, which was good to know.
We made a mistake at the MRT by selecting an exit which claimed to be nearest to Raffles, walking miles in underground malls before deciding exit wherever we could, only to find ourselves further away from Raffles than if we had taken the first available exit from the MRT.
It was now raining and Google maps was being troublesome about properly locating us. Husband's map was more helpful and we finally found Raffles. I recalled from my previous that it was an enormous, spralling building and I had needed to entirely circumnavigate it to find the front. Now knowing where that was I could direct us there more easily. Then there was was small matter of finding the Long Bar in muddle of corridors, bars, restaurants and boutiques that now occupied the lofty architectural splendour of the hotel complex. But we found it and joined the queue for entry.
After a relatively short wait we were ushered inside the earthy decour of the Malayan inspired bar. On the ceiling rows of fans mechanically wafted to and fro - presumably a native had once been responsible for the movement. The floor was dangerously littered with monkey nut shells and it seemed to be acceptable to eat from the sack on the table and wilfully litter the floor following the tradition set by patrons from the 1900s. The pile under each chair was substantial. The mother hadn't noticed that she kept sweeping her shells into my handbag, which was on the floor under the table. I wondered if they opened in the morning with the floor already sprinkled with nut shells so that the first patrons didn't feel unduly messy.
Mother and I had a Singapore Sling (which was allegedly invented in this very bar) and Husband went for a very delicious coffee flavoured cocktail. The drinks took a few minutes to arrive - presumably because the waiter needed to learn how to make something other than Singapore Sling. And navigate to our table without going head over heels on monkey nut shells.
By the time we left (after one expensive drink) the rain had stopped. Wanting to show Husband and mother the supertrees by night, we took the MRT to Bay Front, arriving just in time for the music and light show which was far more impressive from the front.
We slept well that night and the next morning we packed and left our luggage with the hotel reception. Then slowly went into town for unsweaty activities in the form of the Asian Civilisation Museum which, if nothing else, was cool. We looked around the vast collection of ceramics, fabrics and range of other stuff in the museum before joining Husband again, who had sat this one out - wisely, as the mother wanted to photograph almost every exhibit and its accompanying text. Together we went in search of lunch on Boat Quay
F1 fencing was still very present, presumably it being too hot to dismantle it all in a hurry. But it seemed odd to take this amount of time to get the city back.
We took our time over lunch and then returned to the hotel to collect bags, change and go to the airport, where we had a slightly troublesome time as our bag was overweight. But the mother's was under so we needed to see a person and do a group check in so that the weight allowance could be combined.
We then had much time to kill before our flight was due to board. We finally moved away from the gate a bit late and then had a ridiculous 20 to 25 minute taxi to the runway. This meant we finally took off worryingly late. Taking into account the time we needed at Kuala Lumpur to disembark and transfer meant our ability to get to the next flight on time was at risk. Also we anticipated disembarking might be time consuming. The flight was filled with Malaysian women, and getting them into their seats had been a bit like boxing up ferrets.
At Kuala Lumpur, landing 40 minutes before our flight home departed we got as far forward along the aisle as possible before the inevitable blockage formed. As we finally exited the plan a man was holding up a sign with directions to our next flight and assurance it would wait.
Not wanting to place too much reliance on that assurance we scurried along the corridor, down escalators, up escalators, onto a bus and along yet more corridors, becoming conscious of an increasing number of people also running for this flight. I could see a small queue at security to enter the gate. This was a good thing. It transpired that a flight from Bali, changing here, had also been delayed and was filled with London bound passengers. Our flight had probably only had the three of us needing to make the connection which was unlikely to have been enough to warrant delaying the onward flight.
Masses of us now piled onto the plan, upsetting the already boarded passengers who had taken the opportunity to spread out into what they had thought would be empty seats.
The flight back was freezing, turbulence was frequent and the food virtually inedible but we did manage to get a small amount of sleep. And, being the first flight into Heathrow that morning, were processed relatively quickly. Which is more than can be said for the Meet and Greet which kept us waiting in the cold for 25 minutes before the car arrived.
The UK was refreshingly cold and, stopping off at Greggs for a proper breakfast, we were soon back home - where we first noticed the 'Hot Transfer' label on our luggage. Not wrong there!
