It was all a bit of a rush this morning. Despite two alarms, I overslept, probably due to the late night. I also forgot to pack my camera, so that’s a major priority when I arrive in Singapore.
And of course, when you oversleep, you also become a bit anxious and time moves incredibly slowly. The trip to the airport was torture, as we managed to get every single red light along the way.
Standing in the queue though with plenty of time to spare I felt relaxed. And then, for just a moment I thought I was about to be upgraded to business class. Standing at the end of the queue – well, someone has to be last in the queue – I was approached by a smiling woman in a Singapore Airlines outfit.
She beckoned me over towards the business class check in. I smiled, I flirted, I asked about her health, but it was to no avail. What I thought was a “come hither because we’ve got a surprise for you” was actually just an attempt to shorten the lengthy queue. She did, however, give me a pass for express entry through Customs.
I’d estimate I’ve slept about half the flight so far, though I was awake for takeoff, which is unusual for me. And, as usual I woke seconds before the food arrived. The food was good, by the way, especially the Singapore Noodles breakfast.
I’m also pretty happy with my seat. There’s a young woman sitting next to me who I’ve discovered is from Singapore, but currently studying in Australia. And to her left, there’s an Australian bloke whose wife lives and works in Singapore and who regularly commutes between the two places. They’re nice and quiet and haven’t caused any dramas.
To my right there’s a couple of old lezzies. Well actually at first I wasn’t sure if they were lezzies. For a moment, I thought there was a bit of the “Christian Aid Worker” about them (sorry Sue!) but when I noticed one of them reading some female crime fiction I knew they were lezzies.
“Dehydrated lezzies” actually, as they’re constantly asking the flight attendants for water. Not surprisingly, the crime reader has spent half the trip in the bathroom. The other, who bears a remarkable resemblance to one of the “Two Fat Ladies” has spent most of the trip with the remote control firmly in her hand. Looking over the top of her glasses, her eyes have been glued firmly to the screen.
They seem like a nice pair, and we bonded early in the piece when the crime reader dropped her yogurt on the floor and I reached down to pick it up. Later, when I went to the toilet she responded in kind, offering to hold my tray. We’ll be friends for life I’m sure.
Thank goodness I didn’t go with the seat originally selected for me by the computer. If I had I’d be sitting next to “thrombosis man”. He’s about sixty years old, Indian, and obviously deeply concerned about deep vein thrombosis.
Despite having the best seat in economy with loads of leg room, he’s spent half the flight standing up performing elaborate DVT exercises. Watching him do the exercises has been somewhat hypnotic. There’s also a bit of the “change room nudist” about him, as he goes about his activity in full view of those on the plane and seemingly indifferent to the embarrassed smirks of his fellow passengers.
Anyway, I better go, as we’ve just begun our descent into Singapore.