Day 17 – Tours, Tickets and an Unexpected Trip to Sentosa

I woke up late as usual on day 17, and decided to a bit more washing. I collected my kilt from the line and found that it has cleaned up reasonably well, and I put a new wash on. I went out to change some money and get something to eat. I then returned to sort out the washing and then I hung it out on the line. I decided to head into town and try to get on a tour. I got a bus (for a change), and enjoyed the ride into town. That was before I realised I didn’t know where I was going until I got into town. I looked around, the bus stop told me that I would be able to get to orchard road, but I was concerned and got off at the first place I recognised, Dhoby Ghaut MRT station, which was nowhere near Orchard Road. I decided to take the MRT the remaining distance, and got off at Orchard. I then stepped outside to try to find a tour bus, and was unsure quite where to find one. I headed to the bus stop opposite the MRT, because I had seen a tour bus pass that way the previous day. I waited, but none came, and I went to find some information. I didn’t find any, but instead inquired at a perfume stall and was told to stay at the stop, because one would come. I did, and some time later I was rewarded for my patience. I got on the tour bus and was informed that it was the last of the day tour buses, but I could get a Moonlight Adventure tour on a 24-hour ticket. I got on the tour bus and took the ride to the depot (tucked behind yet another shopping centre) and was told to wait for an hour, and that there was a food court inside where I could get something to eat. I had chicken noodle bowl (well, it was a staple food in Singapore, and I didn’t fancy the Fish Head Curry). I then headed out to the bus. I got on and was asked if I wanted a ticket to songs of the sea, and I said ‘no’. The tour guide assumed a befuddled expression before I explained that I had been before. He then told me that I would need an admission ticket to Sentosa then (yep, that place again). I headed upstairs and took a seat. I was glad I did, because the bus went past the Singapore Flyer, giving some great views. When we arrived at the bus park, we were all handed respective tickets, and told to be back at the bus for 8.20pm. I headed for the segways (what else?), and booked a ride. It was quite busy, but in the queue I got talking to this nice kiwi couple and their kids. (You know what I’m like with names by now), from Auckland. We waited until about 8pm, and then we got on the ride. The staff, who knew me by that time, asked if I wouldn’t mind staying at the back to keep an eye on those in front. Not a problem. The ride was enjoyable as ever, and upon return, I was offered a free ride. They didn’t need to ask me twice. I quickly gave my email to the kiwi couple and headed out again. All hope of returning to the bus were quickly forgotten. I joined the next segway group and off I went again. When the ride had finished, I thanked the staff and headed off to the luge for a couple of moonlight rides. When I got up the hill for the first ride, i bumped into a group of immature American guys who were rude, macho and obnoxious. They were convinced they could beat me down the hill, and I proved them wrong. I let them get in front, and then laughed at their expressions as I roared past them. I also laughed as one tried to slow down for the camera and got rear-ended by the guy behind him who was trying to pass me. I reached the bottom and raced for the chairlift, getting a good few cars ahead of them. When I reached the top, I asked the operator (who I had met on a previous day) to try to run them over with the lift (I was joking, of course). I then tore down to the start area and got away before they had left the lift. I was down the hill and onto the lift again before they were even halfway down the course again. I took my last ride and headed for the monorail to Harbour Front, hoping to return again to the Island of fun, but knowing that I was leaving until another trip to Singapore, if ever. When I got to Harbour Front I wondered if they had been looking for me on the bus, but I thought ‘nah, I didn’t go to the show’. I got the MRT back to the hostel, and headed off to bed.

Day 15 - Marina Bay, Marina Barrage and a Muslim called Samil

On Day 15 I woke up and decided to do some washing, so I washed my kilt, before leaving it to dry out on the line. I headed for the obligatory money change before deciding to go out to Marina Bay MRT to see what is there. The answer: not much. On exiting the MRT station, you are surrounded by construction sites, and you have to follow a series of laminated signs pointing to the 'Marina Barrage shuttle bus'. That sounded promising. The trip to Marina Barrage passed through more construction areas, and then we reached the barrage, which seemed to be a great feat of architecture, was based around a large, sweeping roof which you could walk up, since it was covered with grass and had a path. There were many people on the roof itself, flying kites. From the roof I saw a fountain area, which you could paddle in. I headed round the remaining sweep of the roof, and into the area, and soon I was paddling in the lovely, cool water of the fountain, and then I decided, what the heck! I took my shirt off, removed anything which could be water damaged from my pockets, and proceeded to get thoroughly soaked, which highly amused a small kid who had exactly the same intention. I then got talking to the boy's father, who was a native Singaporean Muslim called Samil, his son called Ahmed. We had a cvery interesting conversation, where I learned many facts about Singapore, especially about the educational system, which I strucured very similarly to that of England, and English is actually taught as afirst language to children, before Singaporean. We then got talking about Kembangan, and Sam told me that he lived in Bedok, nearby and that there was a large mall there with a hawker centre inside. He offered me a lift, and I gratefully accepted, and he took me to the mall, explaining that Singapore is smaller than you might think, and that the Merlion in Sentosa is not acutally the real Mrelion, the real one being much smaller and located in the CBD. He pointed out some of the sights on the way, and I thanked him when we arrived and he droppedm me off, having to head home. I headed into the mall and trawled the bookshop, looking for a 'bible' for Sydney and, after a lengthy search ended up with an alternative, so Sydney's adventures will be based on the bible of Frommer's, not on a Lonely Planet bible. Then I hit the food ourt, enjoying chicken rice (although the chicken was a bit dry) followed by (I couldn't help myself) Choclate Fondue, which had strawberries, banana, waffles, chcolate wafer bites and marshamallows, and rich choclate sauce. Bliss. I then headed for the aptly named 'Giant' hypermarket, where I found some books to read, Including one from the author of the book I had finished the previous evening (not included in the blog since reading is not exploration, and would seem quite boring and repetitive). I also found another book, and bought both for S$18, good value for books. I then headed back, to find that I had a new roommate, called Fahin from Sri Lanka. When I first reached the room, he apologised, but he was very tired, and so I took my book and headed to the downstairs cafe/bar to sit with a beer and read. After a beer I felt slightly peckish, and decided to brave some of the cuisine, only to find (to my delight), that they served sweet and sour pork. I ordered a small portion and it arrived, complete with fork. I sent the (bemused) waiter away to get chopsticks, and felt quite stisfied a while later when I finished the dish with a clan shirt. Well, as they say, when in Rome.. I then had another beer before retirting to the dorm, ti find Fahin was now awake and we sat and talked for a while about Sri Lanka and Scotland, and he told me that one day he wanted to move to the UK for work. After a while, pooped, I retired to my bed and slept.

Day 11 - Hong Kong to Singapore

My alarm clock woke me up, as planned, at 4am on the morning of day 11. I got dressed quickly and got my bags together, placing them out in the hall whilst I donned my kilt for the trip. I then checked the whole room (it didn't take long) to ensure that nothing would be left behind. Then I left the keys on the bed and locked the door behind me. Time to go. I dragged my bags (as quietly as I could) past one of the guys that worked at the hostel, Ajibike. I then headed for the lift, and waited as it took its sweet time, as ever, to go up and then decide to come down. The lift would be one thing of Hong Kong which I wouldn't miss. When I was finally at the bus stop, I was witing for the night bus to the airport, and a taxi pulled up. He wouldn't accept that I wanted to get the bus, and kept trying to offer me a ride to the airport. After an exchange of words which are unrepeatable ina public blog, he finally left. I waited for about 15 minutes for the bus, and I was glad when it came, as it was air conditioned (it was quite humid even  at that time in the morning). I placed my large bags in the luggage rack provided, and found seat. Just a bit further down the road, someone else got on, airport bound, and she wanted to pay cash, but couldn't find the right change. Flying Scotsman to the rescue! I moved down to the front of the bus anb found some loose change. Well, I wouldn't be needing it. Once she was paid, she sat down and we got talking. Rachael was from Edinburgh, and she was going to the airport to fly back on the 0830 flight. We chatted about our travels as we travelled to the airport and, when we arrived, we were trying to decide which was the point to get off. I was anxious at trying my tactic of waiting to see where everyone else got off, but was saved by someone who could obviously see our struggle, and told us when we were at the terminal. We found trolleys for our bags, and headed to the departures area. We split, promising to meet up again after check in, and the Scotsman headed off to try his charms on another unsuspecting check-in girl. It worked again, and I got another exit row seat. Brilliant! I also got away with having one bag just over 23kg, but she said it would be okay because the average was under the limit. Then I headed off to find Rachael, and found her at the BA check-in desk. We headed though to the security check, and I prepared to be frisked, as the kilt's buckles always set off the alarm. The search actually turned out quite funny, since the woman wielding the metal detector wand turned out to be five-foot nothing. She had to stand on tip-toes. Once we had been proven not to be terrorists, we heaed to find some food. Rachael said she was not hungry, and went to starbucks, and I headed upstairs to find some sustenance, which came in the form of a scrmbled-egg sausage tray with tomato soup (curious combination) and tea. I took this downstairs only to find that Rachael had dissapeared. I remembered her flight was gate 40-something, so I headed to the other end of the terminal, which had a bad effect on the condition of my as yet uneated breakfast, as the lid in the tea turned out to be ever-so-slightly loose, allowing tea to spill out onto the tray. Thankfully, the tray survived the trip, and I reached gate 41 to find Rachael not there. So I headed back to the other end of the concourse for one last check. upon reching there, I found that Rachael had been sitting on the side of the concourse opposite Stabucks and, of course, I hadn't been looking that way. I settled down to eat my (not slightly tea-flavoured) breakfast, which was actually not bad. The soup, although an unusual addition, brought something new to the table. I didn't actually drink the tea, though, as i realised that i hadn't asked for milk. I also had a slight mishap involving scrambled egg and kilt, which resulted in a quick rush to the toilet to prevent staining, which seemed to be successful. After breakfast had been consumed, Rachael's flight was getting close to boarding, so we grabbed our bags, and I decided to show her the easier way to get from one side of the termianl to the other. A purpose-built underground railway. Nifty, eh? We reached Rachael's gate, and by the time we had exchanged email addresses, she had to board. Then I headed off to gate 29 for my turn, which came quite soon after, as we were told to start queuing just as I arrived, and so I ended up second in line to board. This changed when th guy infron was taking forever to find his boarding card, resulting in me being first on the plane. Upon boarding, I was accosted by a few of the stuardesses and one, named Cherry (I kid you not), asked for a photo, as she had never met someone so tall, and she had never met someone in a kilt. I also got aked if I knew how to play the bagapipes, which seems to be the second question, after, 'is that a kilt?'I was then seated, and I took off my kilt (the buckles add too much width for me to reach the tv controls when I'm in the seat). I awaited my seating partners, and was joined by a fashionista, who looked as if she had trodden on something quite nasty, and her escort, who lookead as if he had fallen out of the gay tree and hit every branch on the way down (a purple jacket, ripped jeans and crocodile-skin pointy-toed boots will do that for a guy). Thankfully, they didn't seem to speak english, so I got peace to watch Star Trek (for the third time). The flight was uneventful, the food ok, though unmemorable, since I can't recall what I had (I think it was chicken noodles, though I;m not sure). Upon arrival inChangi airport I had to queue for quite a while for immigration, but once at the desk it was fine (there was only one form, and no health check). Baggage ollection was next, followed by custons, where the guy asked me if there was anything I wasn't sure about declaring. I remembered the gravy granules (thanks, Auntie Julie and Auntie Lisa), but I was told they would be fine, and my bags were x-rayed before I was free to go (I suppose he thought I looked a bit suspicious in a kilt). I then carried my bags outside, past taxi, all offering business, and up the escalator to the skytrain, which I s quite a piece of engineering (look it up in wikipedia). I was taken by the skytrain to terminal 3, where I could catch the MRT. I took the lift down to the MRT platform, and then the train to Tanah Merah Interchange, where I crossed the platform to take another train to Kembangan as dictated by the instructions sent from the hostel. I then exited the station, only to find no reference to which way to go, and I decided to give in and take a taxi. The taxi journey took 3minutes, and cost S$5. Then I headed for the hostel, which turned out to be up 3 flights of stairs, with not a lift in sight. I was just about dead when I reached the top, and then I had to a self check in, which was a simple process involving a safe code and some money. I then entered the room and dumped my stuff before having a shower and a change. I then put my dirty clothing (left over from Hong Kong) into the washing machine, and went to get some grub. I had intended to eat down in the cafe downstairs, but the menu turned out to consist entirely of fish (fishballs, fish skin or fish head curry). I consulted the Singapore version of the bible of Lonely planet, and headed off into the MRT system to Tanjong Pagar, and to a Hawker Center which I was told was within walking distance of the MRT. It was, but I had gine in the wrong direction. After a panicky moment, I consulted the pull-out map and righted myself, and then I set off for some food. I had a look around the stalls, eventually finding one I liked the look of, and had Wonton Noodle Soup accompanied by pineaplle drink. It was lovely. I then headed back into the MRT and too a train to Raffles Place, to explore, and found a beautiful, twinklingly lit river which will be returned to with a camera. Then, yawning, I decided to head back to the hostel and do a bit of blogging before turning infor the night. My dorm buddies arrived around midnight, and after a quick 'hi' I was sound asleep.

Day 10 - Ferries, Roulette and Really Crappy Music

Day 10 was the day which I spent in Macau. I got up early for once (about 8.30) and headed across to Hong Kong Island via the Star Ferry, before walking to the HK-Macau ferry port (discovered day 8). When I got to the ticket counter, the man there was very confusing (and didn't quite have a complete grasp of English) and so after a few minutes of confused discussion I purchased a return ticket, and headed briskly through to the security area, where a few forms were filled in before passing through security, at which point I examined my return ticket, which said 'return 10.30pm'. Not good. Not good at all, as I would be getting up at 4am the following morning to go to Singapore. I decided that there was little I could do at that point, and so I resolved to instead relax and sort it out in Macau. I boarded the boat to find that I had fortunately been given a seat in the front row, which had some legroom, and I relaxed as much as I could in the not overly comfortable or roomy, and non-reclining economy class seat. I watched the television screen which was on the wall facing me, and I was surprised at what I saw. It was a U.S. (obviously) television show called 'Man vs Beast', and it proved to be compelling viewing. First, there was an obstacle course race between a Navy SEAL and a Chimpanzee, in which the SEAL won and the chimpanzee, upon crossing the finish line, stood up straight with its hands on its hips and pulled a funny face in a way only chimps can. Next came a race between an Asian Elephant and 44 little people (i.e. dwarfs), whilst pulling a DC-10 Jet plane. It was hard to tell who was humiliated the most, the elephant who won, or the dwarfs, who lost. The cabin crew then came around with forms to fill in pre arrival, for entry into Macau, and these seemed identical to those from Hong Kong, apart from the change in the name of the country at the top of the form. After just over one hour of travelling, we arrive in Macau and disembarked to pass through customs. This time, thankfully, I didn't have a blocked nose, and even if I did I wouldn't have said anything. They took everyone's temperature, anyway, by using an ifra-red detector beam. I then headed out into the main concourse area, and was handed a map by a man standing in the concourse and, mistakenly contriving that he was someone from tourist information, I asked for directions to the ticket office, which he led me to. There, I was told by a helpful official that I would be able to catch any boat before 10.30pm, by passing through to the gate and announcing myself as a 'standby' passenger. I then turned to head out from the terminal, and was approached by Mr Tourist Information, who turned out to be a tout, trying to sell a tour by private car of Macau, for only HK$600. Sod that. I managed o fob him off by telling him that I din't have very much money, which was almost true, and I headed out to explore Macau. I passed into a network of overpasses and raised walkways, and within about 15 minutes I was pretty well lost. It was then that I remembered the map that I had been given, and I managed to direct myself to an unassuming building which announced itself as 'centro des activites touristes', and so i headed inside to be confronted with, instead of a tourist information bureau, the Macau Grand Prix museum, and Wine Museum. I was about to reach for my wallet and asses the damage, when I discovered that the GP museum was free. Result! A tour discovered that the Macau GP was a Formula 3 race, and so that explained why I hadn't heard of it. Such a shame, because the museum was very nice, with testimonies to some of the prominent individuals in the race's past, which included Ayrton Senna, as well as a collection of race cars, including Michael Schumacher's F3 car which, predictably, he has won in on several occasions. There was also a free simulator, which was fun, it not a bit cramped, before I departed, and discovered a very reasonably priced gift shop. It's at this point I'll explain that the currency of Macau is the Macanese Pocarat, but, since that exchange rate is almost 1:1 with Hong Kong, HK$ are accepted everywhere. I bought a very nice jacket for $150, and a keyring featuring the circuit, and a pen. All for about 15 quid. Bargain. Then I finally headed out and went in search of food. After wandering past several manky looking restaurants, I found some salvation and, for once, it wasn't a McDonald's. It was a small grocery shop, and I had some crisps and some little sweet crackers, a grape fanta (which is really nice) and a bottle of water. I headed out to a small park I had passed earlier, and ate and watched with amazement as the locals got fit on some outdoor exercise machines which had looked like play equipment when I had passed previously. I then decided to hit a casino, and found one not too far away called the sands casino. Upon entry, there was an escalator upstairs, to the gaming floor, and some truly dreadful music, including someone singing a really terrible interpretation of Ray Quinn's swing version of the ABBA classic, Waterloo. I was then passed though a security point, with a metal detector arch, and I headed for the cashier's desk.  I adopted wise tactics of damage limitation, and changed only HK$200 into chips (about 20 pound). After some time spent searching, I discovered that there were not Texas Hold'em Poker tables, so instead I found a seat at a HK$25 roulette table, and changed my cash chips into purple-ish coloured game chips, which were each worth HK$25 (can you see why it's called HK$25 roulette?). I then began to place bets on the theory that, it I placed them on corners I would get more spread, and if I placed on the same spaces each time I would eventually win something. So I did just that, covering my luck numbers such as 21, 8, 18, 2 and 22. The first $200 didn't last long, and at this point I had discovered why I had gotten a look of astonishment when I had bought chips at the counter. You can buy them at the tables. Before I could help myself, I was $500 down, with only $100 left in chips. I placed the same bets one last time, but somehow seemed compelled to move the chip on the corner, covering  17, 18, 20 and 21, to the middle, between 18 and 21. This paid off, as the ball landed on 18, giving me 17 chips back, instead of the 8 I would have gotten if I hadn't moved. I came to my senses quickly and cashed out before I foolishly lost any more money. I was waylaid on the way to the desk by the slot machines, which turned out to be armless bandits, as it was all electronic ans push-button. I fed a $10 note into one, and I lost it all, so, feeling a bit luckier, I headed to another with another $10 note, and got $11.90 back. Then I finally headed to the cashier's desk to change my chips for $411.90, Down over $200 dollars from when I came in. I headed out back t the Museum, where I had noted previously a bus to Taipa, on the other island of Macau.This was in the form of a small minibus, similar to those in Hong Kong, but it had 2 doors, one at each end, and it was more like a Turkish Dolmus, as people were packed in like sardines. I was lucky to have a seat by the window, and I watched (and took pictures) as we passed over one of the three bridges to the islands, which was strange in the way that it rose up quite high at one point to allow the passage of ferries, before returning to a level, which made it seem almost like a roller coaster (it was quite steep). The bus then arrived in Taipa, and I stayed on to determine when to get off, by the technique of waiting to see where everyone else got off. Not helpful, because the bus turned out to  be a circular, and When I did get off I had already passed the town centre. I wandered through the streets in what I thought was the right direction, until I eventually found a compromise in my favourite non-Asian restaurant. Yep, that's right. McDonald's (I do apologise for repetitiveness, but I have little self-control in terms of McDonald's). I really should charge them for advertising in this blog. A little while later, feeling much fuller and much refreshed, I took a short stroll through the adjacent park, and realised that instead of being given HK$ in change, I had been given Pocarats. I decided to take a taxi back to the ferry port, in the hope of catching the 6 o'clock ferry. I spent a while finding one, before finally succeeding. The taxi stopped, and the door swung open automatically (posh, eh?). I clambered in and spent a short while debating with the driver over the meaning of ferry terminal, before finally showing him the ticket. I turns out that there are two terminals, one on Taipa, and one on Macau. The ride took me over the second of the two bridges, and This one had two humps. It really was like a roller coaster, and it had good views. i reached the terminal and the driver told me it was HK$45. I gave him 50 Pocarats and told him to keep the change. Can't say fairer then that. I caught the 6.30 ferry and in the lounge I discovered a $5 massage chair, which was quite pleasant at times and quite painful at others. It didn't last long, and just after it finished it's cycle we were told that we could board. Upon boarding, I noticed a sign, advertising an upgrade to super class for only $99. It was worth every penny, with comfy, reclining seats, a window seat, legroom, and sound on the telly, allowing me to hear what the commentator said on the race between the dwarfs and the elephant. Lush. On arrival in Hong Kong, I headed back towards the IFC mall, and was drawn in by the attraction of the cinema, again. I purchased a ticket to see Pelham 123, and I discovered the miracle of at-seat service, in which you order, say, chicken strips and chips with apple juice (I wonder who ordered that?) and it gets delivered to you when you are sitting in your seat watching the movie, which was a very good film, which I recommend. (Like day 9, I refuse to give any spoilers). I then returned, by MRT to Chungking Mansions, and I decided to get an early(ish) night because I had to get up at 4am to catch a plane. Upon opening the phone, however, to set the alarm, I discovered that it's temperamental signal had allowed 12 missed calls and several messages to arrive, from mum and dad, telling me to call them because they were worried about me. Drat. I put on some clothes and headed to an internet cafe, where I called them and told them that I was still alive. They told me that their concern was because they hadn't been called in 3 days, and I hadn't updated my blog. I then finally headed to bed, and slept.