Dis-orient-al

I've lost a day, Sunday just gone. As Cat dropped me off at San Francisco International, I mentally prepared myself for a nineteen hour journey to Singapore. It was just coming up to 10pm in the US and I was tired. I had to stay up until 1:30am when my flight was to leave. I was in a strange state as I sat somewhere in the terminal with a hot chocolate, zoning out from drowsiness but also a little nervous because from now on, I would be alone.

I was a little cranky by the time I got on the plane, I just wanted to sleep and I wasn't sure if that was going to happen. The best I've ever gotten on a long haul flight is four hours and that was after some Rescue Remedy and red wine. They served 'supper' and if that was anywhere else, it would be a ludicrous time to eat a meal, but on a plane it's what you wait around for; it kills a bit of time.

Red wine = sparkos. I was out for about six hours, I'd broken my record.

While everyone else was having their usual Sunday, time was lost to me up there on Singapore Airlines, existing in pure darkness the entire time. It was the longest I hadn't seen the sun. With that amount of delirium, one starts to wonder if it'll ever appear again.

I was delighted to see it rise as we descended into Hong Kong for a transit, it was now Monday morning - confused the hell out of my phone when I adjusted the time. It threw me into Tuesday the 18th and the thought of losing another day of my life while in the same clothes from Saturday was scary. Luckily I got a bit more chipper at Hong Kong. It was probably because I knew that the worst part of the journey was over and I was finally in daylight.

The humidity clung to my skin the moment I exited the terminal in Singapore. But wow, this place is pretty. Just bastard hot. But that's ok, I have Mauritian blood, I'm sure I can get used to this...but 30 degrees in Mauritius is lovely. 30 degrees in London is uncomfortable. 30 degrees in Singapore is stifling, there is nowhere to escape it. Even the air conditioning is a very small help, it blushes because of its inadequacy.

I got to the hostel and collapsed for about an hour or two. My phone told me it was five in the evening, local time, although it could have been lying to me again. Anything could have been possible in those five seconds of me opening my eyes because I asked myself that frightening question: "where the f*** am I?!"

I came to in the shower, I think. And finally, with different clothes on and clean skin, my surroundings took form. My stomach woke up. I set off on a hunt for food and to see what kind of area I was dealing with.


I am in the Clarke Quay area, perfect for tourists. Within a five minute walk you can find yourself some coffee, a boatride and a riverside row of restaurants serving whatever you fancy: Chinese, Mexican, American, Italian, even Scottish (?!)...I opted for Japanese. It had the most attractive set of prices on the menu. Downside to being in the heart of everything, it's all bloody expensive.

When I visit a country, I am usually more fond of the modest areas; the ones that don't grab foreigners by the hands and say 'come, come...buy, buy!'. I like to see natives in their natural state; I am happy to watch their world in action as I sit quietly by.

But today (Tuesday - it's more for reminding myself than narrative purposes) I am going to try and find that place where Singapore really happens. Hopefully, I shall not lose anymore time, but embrace it.