Follow Matthew's travels around the world…
They’re very process-oriented here in Singapore. The process is generally followed regardless of whether it makes common sense or not, and fighting against this behaviour is an exercise in futility. This is a country that’s used to following rules.
Which explains why my bowl of wonton soup was accompanied by another smaller bowl of wonton soup. Apparently, soup is included with all meals. Even if the meal is soup.
Few things suck quite as much as being sick when you’re on the road. I managed to catch a cold in Istanbul, and it’s managed to reach that really unpleasant stage where my nose runs constantly. I must have really looked poorly, because even my slave-driver of a client suggested that I should probably take myself home and get an early night (mind you, it was already 7:30pm, so it’s not like I was working a half-day or anything). I figure giving him my cold will be a sort of parting gift…
I’m using up the remains of the cold medicine I bought in Turkey. It seems effective enough, but I suspect it’s actual a combination of horse tranquillisers and morphine, because it leaves me high as a kite. So each morning you’ve got to make that fateful judgement call: do I suffer and sniffle all day with a clear head but a blocked nose, or do I take another sachet of the Turkish cold medicine and struggle through the day with a clear nose but a foggy head?
The second challenge with getting sick on the road is actually tucking yourself up in bed. It’s bad enough that there’s no one nearby to whinge to (in a last-ditch attempt for sympathy, I was even tempted to pour out my heart to the woman at room service, but was thwarted when she misunderstood my lamenting for “one prawn cocktail starter”). No, worse still is the fact that it’s awfully hard to find comfort food when you’re a long way from home. So you either have to drag yourself out someplace (not fun, especially when it’s pouring with rain outside) or you have to settle for what’s on offer at the hotel.
The Mandarin Oriental have gone all out to welcome me back. Thank goodness this is my final stay here — I’m not sure what they’d do to up the ante next time!
They also brought by a selection of deep-fried vegetable chips this afternoon, which was nice. I’m half-expecting a Geisha to be waiting for me tomorrow!
I’m back in the UK for an entire weekend, which seems like quite a luxury. After whinging (maybe a little too much) that I was only going to have 20 hours in the UK after being gone for nearly a month, my client (in an usual moment of displaying that he actually has some understanding of human compassion) suggested that I might spend the entire weekend in the UK and fly back out on Sunday night. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I promptly cancelled my Saturday flight and booked a Sunday flight instead.
I had an 8am flight out of Istanbul yesterday, which meant a 5am car – which meant a 4am start. And being a worrier, it actually meant that I was up at 2:30am, sleepless because I was afraid about oversleeping and missing my flight. In the end, there was no traffic – the airport was empty except for the families looking for information on their loved ones who were lost in the Atlasair crash. Quite a few police and ambulances were there as well to help with the grieving families. Not a great day to be flying out of Istanbul, all things considered.
My flight, thankfully, went without incident and I slept most of the way back to London. Heathrow threw up all its normal problems – no gates, problems with the jetway, and long waits for luggage – all of which meant that despite landing at 10:30am, I didn’t get to my car until nearly 1pm. I won’t miss flying out of Heathrow, that’s for sure.
I came home, cleared a huge pile of mail and filed my expenses – my normal routine after a long trip.
Our evening was lovely, with an invitation for dinner with Annmarie and Jiri to celebrate Annmarie’s birthday. Luckily Jiri had read my blog and knew that kebabs were probably off-limits – so instead he proposed a lovely dinner of Czech dumplings with beef. It was just what the doctor ordered.
PS – my new lens arrived while I was away, an early Christmas present to myself. I’m loving it!
Two little friends were very excited to see Matthew come home yesterday. After a prolonged sniffing session (just to make sure that I wasn’t some impostor), the girls decided that Daddy was indeed home and spent the rest of the day glued to my side.
