Stopover

Writing this in the lounge on the second floor of the airport in Singapore. Eating tiny bits of ham and cheese while sipping coffee and green tea at the same time.

Fragments of a journey thus far:

My shopping marathon ran out of steam circa 3:30 am, when I abandoned Mustafa's and checked into a "napping center" at the airport. Windowless little chambers without doors, separated by shoulder-height wooden partitions. Blanket and extraordinarily effective air conditioning provided. I bought three hours of time; exactly at the three hour mark, a woman tapped my foot to wake me up. Definitely more effective than an alarm clock: I experienced a momentary adrenaline surge and prepared to defend my bunk.

Such yummy food. The approach of Chinese New Year meant that the streets of Singapore were crammed with people and booths even at midnight. Somehow, before I knew it, I was the proud owner of a red pillow displaying a happy dog. And after weeks of Korean cuisine, I was a veritable glutton--sipping from a coconut while eating dried fruits, tea-soaked eggs, mooncake, mushrooms and something not unlike mu shu pork. Also spicy Indian pancakes. Mmm. Street stalls.

I think my copy of the Star Wars Holiday Special--which I hoped would supply entertainment on the flight--lacks subtitles. Who in their right mind would broadcast a movie 90% in the Wookie language? Eeew. I counted. Ten minutes of mewling noises between lines of English dialogue that make Revenge of the Sith a veritable work of Shakespeare--most of that time filled with Chewie's little son snatching cookies, then courting death upon a balcony. The existence of Wookies would discredit intelligent design in a heartbeat.

Time to board. Farewell to the tropics--fifteen hours of seatbelt fastening and unfastening ahead...