After my exertions I was pleased to sit, along with the other small boys, at the driverless front of the wee train gliding above Singapore’s suburbs. I then caught the LRT’s North-South line wrong way round back to Orchard Road and passed the more industrial sector of the city but even that looked clean and tidy. After Yishun the railway crossed the Lower Seletar Reservoir, complete with egrets and diverse waterfowl. I was too knackered to investigate.
The main shopping street was pretty much the same as Barcelona, Cannes, London, even Edinburgh, and I didn't dwell. I rounded off the day with an excellent meal at the local No Signboard Seafood restaurant and then dodged the girls back to my hotel. One grabbed at me. Flattering? I doubt it. Certainly futile anyway.
Twelve hours later I was in the air again, up over the Straight’s crowded shipping lanes, then the first of Indonesia’s countless islands, then Sumatra. Then cloud. All the way to the Indian Ocean. Two jutting peninsulas in the shape of a fuck-off gesture were the next land I would see. I had hit the Monkey Mia region of Australia. I hoped I was actually welcome. ⇐ ⇒
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