It's 8.05pm in Singapore. I'm sitting in the lounge at the airport, in the business section where business-y types are clattering away on keyboards and having louder than appropriate conversations on cellphones. I'm waiting for flight SQ285 to board, in half an hour, so that I can start - wait, continue - the trip home.
I left the office three and a half hours ago. I get home in about twelve hours. fifteen hours, door to door. Traffic's bad, I guess.
The week has been a weird one, as these trips go. I've had a couple of splash dash trips like this - crammed agendas, red-eye flights, no time to stop and smell the durian. So in a way, it really does feel like a commute. It feels no different to popping into the office; only the pop is a very drawn out, expanded p-o-p.
Singapore, in a hurried trip, doesn't have the romance that I guess I've fallen for. No time to drink it in, all I get to see is the hotel, the MRT, the office, and the shops that I stumble across en route. Add to that feeling absolutely knackered, living on double espressos and Red Bulls to keep the eyes open and mind alert through the meetings, and you get a three day trip that hasn't been so enjoyable.
There have been some nuggets, though. Landing in Singapore on Monday morning, and driving into the city from the airport, along the ECP with the sun coming up was special. Seeing all the boats in the Straight, lights twinkling in front of a warming horizon. Watching the sun go down last night fron the 60th floor of the OUB, watching the sky darken and the city scape brighten. Walking past the fountain at Bugis Junction on a genuinely hot Wednesday afternoon, and watching the little ones squeal with delight as they splash themselves cool, and the passers-by taking snapshots of them with their handphones. Nice nuggets.
A nugget of a Thursday beckons though. Home at the end of my commute.
Pure Gold.
I left the office three and a half hours ago. I get home in about twelve hours. fifteen hours, door to door. Traffic's bad, I guess.
The week has been a weird one, as these trips go. I've had a couple of splash dash trips like this - crammed agendas, red-eye flights, no time to stop and smell the durian. So in a way, it really does feel like a commute. It feels no different to popping into the office; only the pop is a very drawn out, expanded p-o-p.
Singapore, in a hurried trip, doesn't have the romance that I guess I've fallen for. No time to drink it in, all I get to see is the hotel, the MRT, the office, and the shops that I stumble across en route. Add to that feeling absolutely knackered, living on double espressos and Red Bulls to keep the eyes open and mind alert through the meetings, and you get a three day trip that hasn't been so enjoyable.
There have been some nuggets, though. Landing in Singapore on Monday morning, and driving into the city from the airport, along the ECP with the sun coming up was special. Seeing all the boats in the Straight, lights twinkling in front of a warming horizon. Watching the sun go down last night fron the 60th floor of the OUB, watching the sky darken and the city scape brighten. Walking past the fountain at Bugis Junction on a genuinely hot Wednesday afternoon, and watching the little ones squeal with delight as they splash themselves cool, and the passers-by taking snapshots of them with their handphones. Nice nuggets.
A nugget of a Thursday beckons though. Home at the end of my commute.
Pure Gold.
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