Day 0. But huv ye thought it through?

Day 0. But huv ye thought it through?

Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay (typical shepherd’s call gathering the distracted readers that still remember that I had a blog and that maybe, I don’t know, want to keep reading my adventures and misadventures because they’ve got everything, just like the chemist.)

And anyway I return to the blog with news. The first a design change more in keeping with these changing modern times and the second… English versions! Fergus has offered voluntarily to translate my nonsense. I imagine that’s because he’s still not read any. He’s hired if he gets past the shouting shepherd.

And so, without further preamble or distraction (You know, the way I’m always used to telling stories…) we come to the reason that I’ve returned to the blog… Singapore and Bali! Because I’m getting older and my memory is failing I’ve decided that a journey like that has to be written down so I can re-read it when I’m seventy-seven and have a significant number of cats or cacti, things which require less petting and such-like…

Well to return to the matter at hand, after a lot of reading, re-reading, preparing maps, dossiers, reservations and other orgasmic aspects of organizing a holiday, and after listening yet another (hundreds of) time(s) to, “But huv ye thought it through?” arrives the day in question, or day S of Singapore in a display of infinite originality. A calm Friday in June that we had decided to take off work because maybe before putting your body through sixteen hours of flying it’s not the best idea to spend the morning in an office chair that compresses your bum into a square. So a little relaxing morning with the bags already packed a month ago (no, during this month I didn’t need any of the tight tops or shorts that went into the bags). An advantage of living in the tropical paradise that is Scotland.

When I said a wee relaxing morning… I don’t know you but I’ve discovered that before I cross a couple of continents for the first time I don’t relax well… so the relaxing morning was for those ‘just in case’ items (Hmm, I’m going to add this furry blanket that mums always recommend for a refreshing evening, and another two kilos of socks that I might make dirty from end to end.) Those ‘just in case’ items that never end up being used for the ‘case’ in question…

After two in the afternoon we start our transcontinental voyage:

Bus 16 – Bus 100 – Flight to London – Flight to Singapore – Taxi to destination

That which took eighteen seconds to write, took eighteen hours to pass, plus seven if you include the difference in time… damn, it’s already Saturday night, I’ve lost a day… so this is jet lag? Ooft, being tired and groggy is more or less my habitual state, so if I have to be completely honest I only notice my head a tiny bit more pureed than normal…

We flew with British airways and it’s shorter than I expected because you basically enter baby mode: sixteen hours of eat/sleep/eat/sleeping through the film that you’ve put on. And I’ll never know if Wakanda forever or not. The only difference (thank heaven for small mercies) is that you have to stand to go to the bathroom. And anyway that’s a relief because the space between seats is also a little like baby mode, especially if some bad-mannered woman decides to have a siesta at the expense of your space. No, I’m not speaking of a hypothetical woman.

On arrival at Singapore and after some rigorous red tape (SIM card, transport card, typical photo of the palm trees that grow inside airports, etc) we come out onto the street and receive our first impression of Singapore. A slap in the face from the pure essence of heat, of the sort that you know could melt you like a vanilla cornetto in an industrial oven. Fortunately it didn’t last long because we went head first to the taxi, confirming the infinite wisdom of the mothers of the world in my second Singapore lecture: “Take a wee cardigan because it might get cold.”  Of course. Each time that you enter a building or method of transport they try to remove all the heat from outside via hypothermia.

The taxi takes us directly to the home of Fergus’ friends, who live in a cool, cosy little flat with a swimming pool, although it’s not very large, which is normal because on this island they all live pretty cramped… in my opinion it’s because they have a surplus of  bankers (they’ve got them everywhere).

That evening we rest a little after the journey and eat a delicious vegetarian curry prepared by our fabulous hosts and a mini magnum. I mention it because it’s one of the few times that I’ve eaten chocolate on this journey… folks, I think the extreme heat helps to get clean from chocolate. But I also think the treatment lasts longer than two weeks…

The following days in Singapore we’ve taken very calmly (from my point of view, I know of somebody that is grinding his teeth while he reads this) due to the marvellous climate of this country, which is like going around frying in your own sweat all through the day. Calm or not, it frightens me to start writing because just with that opening silliness I’ve used 906 words to tell that I’ve arrived in a plane and that it’s hot there…

Edinburgh to Singapore.
Pero a ver, criatura…A ti que se te ha perdido por ahi?
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Day 0. But huv ye thought it through?