Singapore is worth a visit, no matter what your age, or the time you get up at. The only difficulty I encountered was the hordes of Chinese guests in our hotel who descended like locusts on the breakfast buffet. I will draw the curtains of charity on the scenes that ensued, suffice it to say simply, that the average Chinese head is at the same level as an Irish elbow.
We flew to Thailand. Bangkok is truly full of more riddles than I well ever be able to resolve. I kept thinking of Murray Head's song. Frankly, nothing was what it seemed.
An overnight train and a ferry to the most beautiful islands was what we needed. Scenic, sandy beaches and azure sea, did it for me. My beautiful wife however required more than my earnest exhortations to understand that the many tall beautiful girls were not . . well, girls.
Railways in Thailand are run by the military, so before boarding our train I was sternly warned by a tiny general in an impressive uniform that alcohol on the train was strictly forbidden. What ? Why in the world would he be suspecting me of any divilment in that regard, I questioned rhetorically in my own head? Without any sensible answer, I must add. Homer Simpson's monkey with cymbals were active there.
Thankfully, no sooner were we installed in our private James Bond style compartment, but some tiny gent with a twinkle in his eye knocked on the sliding door to offer us some beer. He could have been the general's brother, forsooth, it may have been the general himself in mufti.
Two weeks passed more quickly than I can describe, sea sand and .... the other thing, and so it was back to the Philippines for another few weeks which revolved around house hunting.
As a pasty faced white boy, in Duterte's land of the war against drugs, there was not much alcohol involved in that adventure, but a lot of firearms. More to come . .
On a sad note, farewell John Prine . . . can't get Sam Stone out of my head. Kinvara misses you laddie.
