Into the void

Tuesday, 25/09/2012 – 103 A.D.

Up until now this has been easy. It’s been a piece of cake, a walk in the park, child’s play. So far we’ve suffered heatwaves, frosty mornings, tragic loss, unnecessary gains, setbacks, delays and far too many Macdonalds Cheeseburger Meals, but none of that matters anymore. Now the ante is upped and we need to raise our game accordingly. If we don’t…we get our arses kicked. Big time.

The whole day was spent in transit, although we did manage a stop-off at Victoria Markets as we crossed Melbourne, hoping to find some dual-layer dvds on which to back up our photos. We found none, but Tim got himself a great big hotdog with everything on, though he questioned the logic of chilli sauce and mustard on the same sausage. Our rucksacks felt a lot lighter after we’d got rid of the stuff we’d sent back home by sea mail. Plus I’d donated the fitted sheet we’d bought for Greyhound travel in America to the Salvation Army.

By far the easiest way to get to Melbourne airport is the Skybus, which you take from the central train station for $17. It takes about 20 minutes and we arrived with plenty of time for check-in. Everything went smoothly as we got on the plane, but don’t you just hate it when you’re stuck in the middle seats of a 3-4-3 set-up? Tim was jammy enough to get the aisle and me, in seat 69F, was stuck next to an elderly women who was far too twitchy for my liking. Fortunately there were a couple of spare seats across the aisle from Tim, so once that plane was airborne I was over that aisle and into a beneficial legroom zone. It was an eight hour flight, but Qantas provided more than enough entertainment for the trip and I watched Sacha Baron-Cohen’s new film, The Dictator, plus multiple episodes of the American version of The Office, and – surprise, surprise – The big bang theory.

We touched down in Asia about 21:35 local time (we’re now seven hours ahead of the UK). I filled out my customs arrival form, noticing the warning in big red letters that DRUG TRAFFICKING = DEATH IN SINGAPORE. Mind you, just dropping litter here carries a several hundred dollar fine, which I think is a good thing. And we’d been made aware that you can’t bring chewing gum into the country, but these days I’ve cut right down on that. However, I still had a bit of chocolate and some boiled sweets in my hand luggage, but I thought I should check out if this was okay, what with the Australasians being so hot on bringing anything organic into their countries. I approached a woman with Customer Services on the back of her jacket and asked if it was alright to bring sweets into the country. “Sweets?” she replied, “What are sweets?” Oh dear, it’s the first language barrier moment! I thought they were all supposed to speak English here (or at least a mix of English and Singaporean known as “Singlish”). Fortunately she understood the word “chocolate” and said it was fine. Happy I wasn’t breaking any laws so far, I went to use the facilities, which were spacious and sparkling. An electronic touch-screen by the exit said ‘Please rate our toilet’. I didn’t have time, but I would have been very complimentary.

It was quite late, but we’d decided we weren’t going to spend the night in another airport, even if Changi is one of the better ones in the Asian world. Therefore we’d be checking into the Arianna Hotel in Little India, which featured a 24 hour reception. At first we considered getting the train into the city centre, but upon seeing that we’d have to change twice, we decided against it. Therefore we had to find a taxi, making sure the fare did not cost more than $44, which was all we had. At the rank, we watched a brand new high speed blue taxi pulling away. Then ours arrived, which was pea green in colour and looked like something from the 1970s. The driver didn’t have a clue where the Arianna Hotel was, and he wasn’t adept at understanding the photo that Tim had taken of Google Maps on his phone. At first I thought he was hustling us (third world paranoia kicking-in already!) but as the conversation continued I realised he was just confused. We headed off into the night, keeping a keen eye on the meter. At one point a Porsche convertible with the largest spoiler ever constructed zoomed past us, which prompted our driver to race it from the slow lane.

It took about ten minutes to get to Little India and we had to circle several blocks until we found the Arianna (to be fair to our driver he switched off the meter while we were looking). The hotel looked okay from the outside, but we’d been hoping for a bit of luxury, despite the fact that Singapore is probably about as expensive as Asia gets, Japan aside. After checking in, we discovered that our room was alright, but with good and bad bits:

The Good:

-          We don’t hear the traffic outside.

-          We have a telelvision.

-          We have a fridge.

-          The internet is free and the connection is great.

The Bad:

-          We do hear guests in the rooms nearby.

-          The fridge is in a cupboard and the door doesn’t open properly because the bed is in the way.

-          There is no separate shower – the bathroom is one big shower.

-          The beds are hard as nails.

-          There are towels…both with brown patches all over them.

Oh well, you have to take the rough with the smooth, don’t you? At least we’ve arrived and can get our head down for some shuteye. I’m sure the next three months will just fly by…