weak-kneed winch

holydays: travels in the east #1

being in singapore is like being back in the “good old days” of british colonialism. we socialized in well-to-do wine bars. we relaxed in spa baths at the singapore “badminton” club. we dined at plush five star hotels. we danced at swish night clubs. we swigged pink champagne from imperial roof-top establishments whilst panoramic views hung from the glass windows like giant paintings in... errr... some very famous museum. martini’s, cosmopolitans, appletini’s, tequila sunrises, singapore slingers, bottles of vodka, and super expensive beers in chilled glasses. lobster tails, crayfish, caviar, rare-steak rolls, and white chocolate fondue’s. i felt like i was back in the 19th century. i was expecting to wake up in the morning, put on a safari suit, pick up a rifle, and head out into the jungle to shoot myself a tiger.

i didn’t really do much of the touristy shit in sing. i lived the life of an expat local. it is my preferred choice. see how the locals live. find out how a place operates. breathe in the native energy.

so i arrived on a friday. 3pm. there was just enough time for a five hour nap before i headed off to meet pete, pam, and dangerous dan for a night out on the town. we ate satay and drank tiger beer at some or other food court and then cruised down to the river to take our place amongst the elite. soon enough we were drunk. and landed up in a bar on the 179th floor of a building. pete bought champagne. pete never buys champagne. clearly singapore is a special city. delusions of grandeur sweep through the brain. and why shouldn’t they? we were royalty!!!

we headed to a bar in the marriot hotel. classy joint. i met and had interesting conversations with high-class prostitutes from russia and thailand. they made me feel special. prostitutes sure are good for the ego. then, acting on advice from an ex-work colleague (we’ll call him mike – because that is his name... and i want to give him the credit for finding the place), we stumbled into a place called “the four floors of whores”. great name. simple, but effective. no confusion to be had. i don’t usually get much attention... but here pretty girls clung to me like i was the risen messiah. it was heaven. but in heaven sex before marriage is frowned upon. so i left empty handed. goddman the ten commandments.

the next morning we stopped off at a buddhist temple hoping for a glimpse of the future and a touch of good luck. i was nervous about my solo travels and asked about them. kneeling on the mat, i threw the bamboo sticks and tossed the fish. the pink slip i received in return contained the words: IT IS A GOOD TIME FOR TRAVEL. freaky but true. but it was as gooder omen as any i had ever received. it had a calming effect on me. i was ready to travel ace out.

that afternoon we visited the singapore “badminton” club. i had heard about the infamous eastern "rub and tug" routine and was hoping for more of the same. but, unfortunately, it was all above board (so to speak). i did get stood on and walked on though. the chick even did the splits on my back. we relaxed in the hot tubs. and drank green tea. and ate food. and i managed to block one of the two toilets in the place. the local folks saw me coming out of the toilet sweating. they shook their heads and frowned. the eastern cuisine had not been good on my stomach.

sat night was more of the same. we caught the super 14 semi-finals - come on you sharks. and then clubbed at the ministry of sound. there sure were a lot of sexy looking oriental girls there. i was happy.

sunday we had breakfast at the fullerton hotel. i was hung and had sausage and bacon and mushrooms and fried tomato and scrambled egg and a double portion of baked beans. the other folks had the lobster and crayfish, etc. i felt common. but we got drunk on the free cocktails and soon we were belting out (super cheesy) karaoke hits at dan’s house. sentosa (the beach island) was the destination for sundowners. and that was then end of my weekend in singapore. quality.

i also had a few nights in sing on my way back to sa. we dined and drank in yet more posh restaurants and bars with neil, lily, naresh, dan, and the lovely marcelle. pete and pam sure do have a cool social circle going. also caught up with porto who was over in sing on business. goddman high-flying swine!!! i arrived at the airport for my flight home (2am) super drunk and wrote that dodgy post below. then i flew home.

so final impressions of sing: it sure is a modern city. more western than most actual western cities. and there sure is a strict set of social values in place there. this results in a very ordered way of life. and no crime. which is good. at the same time there seems to be a very strong set of intellectual values in place. they are at the forefront of technological progression. which is good.

however there is still something missing. and i can’t really put my finger on it. perhaps it is that these social and intellectual values are too strict. too static. limited scope to move. there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of dynamic quality around. the metaphysics of quality man!!! dynamic quality... the leading edge of evolution. art, music, literature. you wouldn’t want to be an artist in sing. it is not the most creative place. and sometimes without this creative force a place may grow stagnant and suffocate. but then i'm just speculating here. and i’m probably being grossly unfair having hung around in elitist establishments for the entire time. god bless modernisation and capitalism!!!