February 9-10
Singapore to Paraparaumu
I actually managed a few hours sleep, although nothing like enough to make up for the deficit. I packed most of my things, bringing my passport in my back pack and set off round the corner.
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Last night's rain had vanished and it was dull, warm and humid. I watched an ambulance trying to fight it's way out of the Fire Station and into the traffic. It's lights were flashing but no one, not least the ambulance crew, seemed overly concerned.
The Sidewalk was very quiet and I ordered noodles with green beans and fish. A steal at about £2. This was topped up with a Chinese tea and a lump of pineapple for another £1.40. Not a bad way to start the day. While I was eating, a txt arrived from Qantas advising me that my flight had been re-scheduled and would be 50 minutes late. That will give me a little more time to kill.
Back at the hotel, I reorganised my bags, checked the corners of the room and went to reception to check out. This went without a hitch so I left two bags with the concierge and set off with my back pack.
I was still undecided about whether to take a taxi or a train to the airport. I'll have to see how tired I am by mid afternoon.
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Round the corner from the hotel, North Bridge Road crosses the river via the Elgin Bridge and becomes South Bridge Road. There is an eclectic mix of old and new on display. It was warm and humid as I rested on a bench near Speakers Corner. The only people around were a bit young to be saying anything controversial but it was a peaceful setting containing a smart open-air theatre. |
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Chinatown starts here, a motley collection of old and new buildings, street markets and temples. I skirted along the edge of it, found a mural and also a kitchenware shop. This was large and expensive.
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I had been advised to visit the Temple of the Buddha's Tooth. It was very busy and a service was taking place inside. It was very photogenic but I resisted the urge. Taking photos in church always seems sacrilegious.
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I took a train from the station across the road a couple of stops to Marina Bay. A nice man in a uniform assured me that there was nothing worth seeing, just houses, offices and buildings. He was right but, if you don't look, you don't find out. Trying to find the train out was difficult. The station was large and it took me at least ten minutes and several false starts to find the right train. I returned to City Hall and then to The Sidewalk. Here, there was a problem in the form of a huge queue. I decided to retreat to the posh bar at the hotel and have an expensive Tiger. |
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Earlier in the morning I had thought about my camera battery and wondered what I had done with the spare. I went to the hotel concierge, asked to have my bag out of the store, and found the battery in the first pocket that I examined. That problem solved, I set off to a couple of the local posh food courts and found them heaving.
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I returned to The Sidewalk, which was busy but now had a few seats. I had a light prawn curry and an iced tea before returning to the hotel foyer to chill out for an hour. I felt too tired to venture out anywhere.
Left: I returned to the foyer to chill out |
At 15.30, I arrived at the concierge's counter, and spent a happy fifteen minutes re-packing my bags. A taxi arrived, we pulled away from the hotel and were greeted by a sudden heavy shower. This vanished as quickly as it had appeared and we had a smooth and uneventful ride to Changi. Check-in was quick and easy and I was soon airside.
The water features and plants were as magnificent as ever. The Qantas lounge was huge but the food was as uninspiring as in London, with strong vegan tinges. I ate a little, had a glass of wine and sat in a comfy chair awaiting boarding.
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The worst part of Changi is that security takes place at the individual gates. We all removed clothes etc and I was ushered away from the metal detector and given a very perfunctory pat down. Boarding wasn't as well organised as in London but we made it and finally pushed back 20 minutes later than our already delayed time. The driver said the delay was caused by the plane having to be de-iced in London, which took a long time.
The flight was uneventful and the food rubbish. We landed on our revised schedule and I survived another encounter with airport security. All three systems I have encountered so far have been very efficient and are obviously well used to old men with pacemakers.
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The Qantas lounge in Sydney is a cut above the others. Not surprising, I suppose. I saw people knocking back bacon and eggs although I contented myself with a bowl of muesli and a half decent long black.
Towards the requisite time, I walked down to the gate and was told, very nicely, that they hadn't got a plane and that I might as well return to the lounge. After another 20 minutes, the board showed that the gate had opened so I retraced my steps and boarded about fifteen minutes later. This was a lengthy process and we finally pushed back about 40 minutes late. We then taxied for about 20 minutes before finally taking off.
The flight went very well. After we had travelled two thirds of the journey, the computer showed that we had recovered all but twelve minutes of the lost time. Even better, it would appear that the "woke" tendencies which seem to have infected both London and Singapore have not yet reached Sydney. As a result, I was able to have a reasonable lump of braised brisket and a glass of decent shiraz for lunch. It remains to be seen if the timings remain until we reach Wellington.
We lost a little time on the run into Wellington but by the time we touched down, we had recovered over half of the time we had lost in Sydney.
The electronic immigration check was very quick, my bag arrived without problems and, although the queue at biosecurity looked intimidating, I was checked and through in about ten minutes.
The problem arose when I tried to add money to my snapper (travel) card. The machine told me that my EFTPOS (ATM) card had expired. Most annoyingly, it had, and the snapper machine refused to speak to my credit card. I had enough credit on the snapper to travel to the train station and the airport bus took me there very efficiently.
I joined the short queue at the ticket office window and got no help at all from the man there. He told me to see the ticket man on the train. He had no solution, either, other than to sell me a ticket for less than the full price and suggest that I go to the ticket office at the end of the line. This, I later discovered, has been closed!
I reached Paraparaumu without incident, was collected by Valerie, and driven to her smart new house in a retirement village.
We walked round the extensive and very attractive grounds, had tea and a quiet evening. By this time, I was almost comatose so anything more demanding was out of the question.