What I did on my holidays
Good morning World!
For the first time in a long time, I am physically able of sitting (!) at my desk and communicating with the world. Thank christ, my back is no longer my very own torture instrument. On the other hand, two 12 hour flights in cattle class and 10 whole days of debauchery and fun probably are due their payback, so I guess I can't complain too much. For those who can't be bothered to read the cut, I had a wonderful time in Singapore, apart from the bit where my back went 'crunch' and I couldn't walk or sit, and I am looking very seriously to move out there as soon as possible, to be closer to my darling creature jhaelan.
So, as usual, I fly out there and hit the ground running; I find it much easier to travel in that direction than in the other- coming back always weirds me out in a big and unpleasant way, don't know why. Very happy to see the lovely chap waiting for me at the airport!
We had our first big evening of cocktails and elegant roof-top bars on Saturday, in the singlemost kitsch hotel I have ever seen. Singapore is pretty kitsch anyway, but this place was pretty in your face. Plus had a lovely roof-top bar, which is a great idea; there was some kind of breeze to enliven the humidity, though due to the recent clampdown on public smoking, although it was all outside, there was only a small strip of smoking space available. There appears to be a glut of a certain kind of not hugely attractive martini glasses in Singapore, which have a kind of wavy stem, which appeared with startling regularity on the table...Having noticed them once, and thought 'yuk', I started noticing them everywhere; it was a bit like the massive over-use of silver and purple around the year 2000.
Sunday was an evening spent in Fort Canning Park, to see an open-air production of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream', which was great; they used dancers from the Singapore Ballet as fairy toughs in bondage trousers as stage hands, and all the girls in little lit-up outfits for Titania's fairies. It was great, though I think the interval where Titania and Bottom sang 'I will survive' was a little unnecessary.
Monday was spent shopping for James, to try and get him into some clothes that weren't 15 years old; which was pretty successful. Monday evening was spent in an Arabic restaurant called Samar, which had shisha pipes and amazing food. It was also properly Arabic, in that it didn't serve alcohol, so we moved onto a blues bar, stuffed half into an alley, and half on the pavement, again kitted out by a person who had heard of boho chic but hadn't known when to stop. It was a really hot night, so we didn't last long, but I was still delighted to be outside and not shivering.
Tuesday my friend from London came to stay; she is now living in Vietnam, and I hadn't seen her since September. We did the obligatory cocktails in the Long Bar at Raffles, dinner at a place which was a Churrascaria, where they walk around with great sticks of meat, that they then slice off onto your plate. The perfect way to eat your own body weight in lamb, beef, fish and for some reason chicken hearts. (No, I didn't have any). Then onto the again absolutely obligatory Night Safari, where I showed Sonja James' totem animals, the bear-cats... I was also the designated 'moveable feast' for night biting insects. Yay.
Wednesday morning was spent eating cheese on toast and drinking tea, in air-conditioning. It was decided that we would do all the tacky touristy things that afternoon, so we took the cable cars from Mount Faber to Sentosa island, went to Underwater World, and on the luge (yay!) and then spend a few hours drinking beer on an immaculate fake beach. Well, it would have been immaculate were it not for the pontoon with the huge bloody great big crane on it, that was doing something to a pier. Dinner was at a hawker stall in China Town (Yep, population 84% ethincally Chinese and they have a China Town) and then we got ready for an alternative night. Or what we thought was going to be an alternative night, but which in fact turned out to be their hip hop night.... Yeech. So, dressed up to the nines, we went to Insomnia, the now-legendary night-spot that I know James is returning from when he calls me at 9pm my time. The only people as tarted up as I was were the prostitutes, but apart from that, we had a great time. One thing though, put 4 singaporean men behind a busy bar, and just marvel at how crap they are at dealing with it. Not sure if they were all starting their new career in being bar-men at once, but that was about the size of it. Not aided by the addition of free-flow, where for the ticket price you can drink as much as you want until 11pm for men and 12pm for women. On the plus side, because women couldn't get beer on free flow after 11pm, I discovered that you can, indeed, spend an entire night on vodka and coke, and not feel too rancid the next morning. This might have been aided by roti, at 4:30am, by the roadside from an all-night place not far from the converted monastery where we had been partying. I was knackered, drunk, sweaty, and to top it all off, saw two sleek rats mooching about the place, in the undergrowth by the road. They looked like pet rats, but were obviously feral. Not at all sure I like being able to look up from my hangover-prevention indian bread and goop, to see 4 beady little eyes staring at my plate.
Thursday was quiet; we pottered, went on a bumboat around the touristy places on the river, and ended up at Highlander, which is in Boat Quay. Mmm, single malty goodness. It's an interesting thing, but Boat Quay is an area of old chinese shop-houses, which has been almost roofed over with these strange, gangly parasols, that have cool-air blowers in the struts to keep the temperature down a little. I just want to know who approved the design of these blowers though, because they look like nothing so much as giant phalluses, broadening at the bottom where the balls would be, where the cool air comes from. It isn't just my mucky mind, because Sonja saw them too, and it's not just because they are longer than they are wide, they look quite anatomically correct. Very strange. My back started to get a little sore, so I wasn't very comfortable, but it was ok.
Friday Sonja went back to Vietnam, clutching lots of clothing that fit her Aussie frame, instead of being made for pencil thin vietnamese women, and we had lunch with a friend of my step-fathers', on the 70th floor of a hotel. tip: try not to sit too close to the floor-ceiling windows... Then, having gathered the natives (of James' work, anyway), we went to the Bellini Rooms, part of a new complex of bars, restaurants etc in St James' Power Station. As a visitor to Singapore, I got a special pass that allowed VIP entry, with a plus 1, which was nice, and very typically Singaporean; if there's a charge, for anything, there will be VIP discounts, or membership cards, or something that gives an edge on the rest of the crowd, and gives special privileges, even if it is just free entry to a bar. I was in intermittent agony, so was perhaps unwisely taking lots of Neurofen and Veuve Cliquot. It was a fantastic night, the band were really very good, and James and I reprised our very rusty swing-jive steps for the last songs. Others were heading onto another club in the complex, but we were tired, and I was in pain, so we went home for around 2.
Saturday I was in absolute white-hot agony, as whatever muscle it was went into a series of spasms and I hobbled around the place foraging for food and painkillers, reeking of tiger balm. Very glamorous. Sunday was also pretty much the same, though I managed to drag myself upright long enough to have dinner with James; the half-bottle of red wine had a very soothing effect on my back so we went to loof, another incredibly cool, upscale roof-top bar, where we had cocktails until we were both very tired indeed and had to retire immediately. Monday was a nightmare of pain and snotty nosed-ness, as I managed to catch James' sniffle, and incidentally was also the day of my return trip home, so I was incredibly sore, and miserable, and sniffling, and reeking of tiger balm, on a plane. Best not to be repeated.
This last week I have been attempting to work standing up at my desk, because my back has been so sore. The doctor said 'oh yes, it sounds like a muscle went into spasm, and it appears to be healing itself, carry on with the pilates and painkillers', which was pretty much what I was expecting. Yesterday morning I managed to sit to eat breakfast, and get in a small amount of groceries, so it is getting better, and I've been up for about 3.5 hours so far today without needing any painkillers at all, so you never know, I might be able to rejoin the land of the living. And look for jobs in Singapore.
I shall also be having a cocktail party, fairly soon, if the weather looks like holding, so make sure you have something suitably dashing to wear. And maybe a jumper.
For the first time in a long time, I am physically able of sitting (!) at my desk and communicating with the world. Thank christ, my back is no longer my very own torture instrument. On the other hand, two 12 hour flights in cattle class and 10 whole days of debauchery and fun probably are due their payback, so I guess I can't complain too much. For those who can't be bothered to read the cut, I had a wonderful time in Singapore, apart from the bit where my back went 'crunch' and I couldn't walk or sit, and I am looking very seriously to move out there as soon as possible, to be closer to my darling creature jhaelan.
So, as usual, I fly out there and hit the ground running; I find it much easier to travel in that direction than in the other- coming back always weirds me out in a big and unpleasant way, don't know why. Very happy to see the lovely chap waiting for me at the airport!
We had our first big evening of cocktails and elegant roof-top bars on Saturday, in the singlemost kitsch hotel I have ever seen. Singapore is pretty kitsch anyway, but this place was pretty in your face. Plus had a lovely roof-top bar, which is a great idea; there was some kind of breeze to enliven the humidity, though due to the recent clampdown on public smoking, although it was all outside, there was only a small strip of smoking space available. There appears to be a glut of a certain kind of not hugely attractive martini glasses in Singapore, which have a kind of wavy stem, which appeared with startling regularity on the table...Having noticed them once, and thought 'yuk', I started noticing them everywhere; it was a bit like the massive over-use of silver and purple around the year 2000.
Sunday was an evening spent in Fort Canning Park, to see an open-air production of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream', which was great; they used dancers from the Singapore Ballet as fairy toughs in bondage trousers as stage hands, and all the girls in little lit-up outfits for Titania's fairies. It was great, though I think the interval where Titania and Bottom sang 'I will survive' was a little unnecessary.
Monday was spent shopping for James, to try and get him into some clothes that weren't 15 years old; which was pretty successful. Monday evening was spent in an Arabic restaurant called Samar, which had shisha pipes and amazing food. It was also properly Arabic, in that it didn't serve alcohol, so we moved onto a blues bar, stuffed half into an alley, and half on the pavement, again kitted out by a person who had heard of boho chic but hadn't known when to stop. It was a really hot night, so we didn't last long, but I was still delighted to be outside and not shivering.
Tuesday my friend from London came to stay; she is now living in Vietnam, and I hadn't seen her since September. We did the obligatory cocktails in the Long Bar at Raffles, dinner at a place which was a Churrascaria, where they walk around with great sticks of meat, that they then slice off onto your plate. The perfect way to eat your own body weight in lamb, beef, fish and for some reason chicken hearts. (No, I didn't have any). Then onto the again absolutely obligatory Night Safari, where I showed Sonja James' totem animals, the bear-cats... I was also the designated 'moveable feast' for night biting insects. Yay.
Wednesday morning was spent eating cheese on toast and drinking tea, in air-conditioning. It was decided that we would do all the tacky touristy things that afternoon, so we took the cable cars from Mount Faber to Sentosa island, went to Underwater World, and on the luge (yay!) and then spend a few hours drinking beer on an immaculate fake beach. Well, it would have been immaculate were it not for the pontoon with the huge bloody great big crane on it, that was doing something to a pier. Dinner was at a hawker stall in China Town (Yep, population 84% ethincally Chinese and they have a China Town) and then we got ready for an alternative night. Or what we thought was going to be an alternative night, but which in fact turned out to be their hip hop night.... Yeech. So, dressed up to the nines, we went to Insomnia, the now-legendary night-spot that I know James is returning from when he calls me at 9pm my time. The only people as tarted up as I was were the prostitutes, but apart from that, we had a great time. One thing though, put 4 singaporean men behind a busy bar, and just marvel at how crap they are at dealing with it. Not sure if they were all starting their new career in being bar-men at once, but that was about the size of it. Not aided by the addition of free-flow, where for the ticket price you can drink as much as you want until 11pm for men and 12pm for women. On the plus side, because women couldn't get beer on free flow after 11pm, I discovered that you can, indeed, spend an entire night on vodka and coke, and not feel too rancid the next morning. This might have been aided by roti, at 4:30am, by the roadside from an all-night place not far from the converted monastery where we had been partying. I was knackered, drunk, sweaty, and to top it all off, saw two sleek rats mooching about the place, in the undergrowth by the road. They looked like pet rats, but were obviously feral. Not at all sure I like being able to look up from my hangover-prevention indian bread and goop, to see 4 beady little eyes staring at my plate.
Thursday was quiet; we pottered, went on a bumboat around the touristy places on the river, and ended up at Highlander, which is in Boat Quay. Mmm, single malty goodness. It's an interesting thing, but Boat Quay is an area of old chinese shop-houses, which has been almost roofed over with these strange, gangly parasols, that have cool-air blowers in the struts to keep the temperature down a little. I just want to know who approved the design of these blowers though, because they look like nothing so much as giant phalluses, broadening at the bottom where the balls would be, where the cool air comes from. It isn't just my mucky mind, because Sonja saw them too, and it's not just because they are longer than they are wide, they look quite anatomically correct. Very strange. My back started to get a little sore, so I wasn't very comfortable, but it was ok.
Friday Sonja went back to Vietnam, clutching lots of clothing that fit her Aussie frame, instead of being made for pencil thin vietnamese women, and we had lunch with a friend of my step-fathers', on the 70th floor of a hotel. tip: try not to sit too close to the floor-ceiling windows... Then, having gathered the natives (of James' work, anyway), we went to the Bellini Rooms, part of a new complex of bars, restaurants etc in St James' Power Station. As a visitor to Singapore, I got a special pass that allowed VIP entry, with a plus 1, which was nice, and very typically Singaporean; if there's a charge, for anything, there will be VIP discounts, or membership cards, or something that gives an edge on the rest of the crowd, and gives special privileges, even if it is just free entry to a bar. I was in intermittent agony, so was perhaps unwisely taking lots of Neurofen and Veuve Cliquot. It was a fantastic night, the band were really very good, and James and I reprised our very rusty swing-jive steps for the last songs. Others were heading onto another club in the complex, but we were tired, and I was in pain, so we went home for around 2.
Saturday I was in absolute white-hot agony, as whatever muscle it was went into a series of spasms and I hobbled around the place foraging for food and painkillers, reeking of tiger balm. Very glamorous. Sunday was also pretty much the same, though I managed to drag myself upright long enough to have dinner with James; the half-bottle of red wine had a very soothing effect on my back so we went to loof, another incredibly cool, upscale roof-top bar, where we had cocktails until we were both very tired indeed and had to retire immediately. Monday was a nightmare of pain and snotty nosed-ness, as I managed to catch James' sniffle, and incidentally was also the day of my return trip home, so I was incredibly sore, and miserable, and sniffling, and reeking of tiger balm, on a plane. Best not to be repeated.
This last week I have been attempting to work standing up at my desk, because my back has been so sore. The doctor said 'oh yes, it sounds like a muscle went into spasm, and it appears to be healing itself, carry on with the pilates and painkillers', which was pretty much what I was expecting. Yesterday morning I managed to sit to eat breakfast, and get in a small amount of groceries, so it is getting better, and I've been up for about 3.5 hours so far today without needing any painkillers at all, so you never know, I might be able to rejoin the land of the living. And look for jobs in Singapore.
I shall also be having a cocktail party, fairly soon, if the weather looks like holding, so make sure you have something suitably dashing to wear. And maybe a jumper.