I am busy packing.
I’m lying. I’m facing a FWP: I don’t want to pack.
Tomorrow, hubs and I are headed to Australia for 12 days. I love that it’s winter there, but find it difficult to envisage the necessity for sweaters while faced with frizzy hair and obstinate perspiration.
When I was little, I packed my suitcases weeks in advance, keenly sorting in anticipation of summer camp, or far-away places of magic: Indiana, Florida, Ohio. Adult me is less enthusiastic. So far, the primary method for packing included displacing the entire contents of my closet onto the living room floor hoping this would happen:
I tried singing to the socks, but it didn’t take.
I’ve convinced myself that in being a world traveler, I am a packing expert. The natural trajectory should be for one to increase packing efficiency over the course of one’s travels. I have proven it is possible to become less efficient, even resistant.
In any case, I am thrilled to get to go Australia, the hubs second home, to which I have never been. I’m excited to fly on what I (perhaps, unfairly) refer to as a real airline. Although budget airlines have a special place in my heart, real airlines do not (sometimes, deceptively) advertise cheap flights and then charge extra money for: seats placements, excess luggage (anything that does not fit in the tiny overhead bin), meals onboard or queue-jumping “privileges”. Instead, I get go to a real terminal with a respectable amount of luggage, stand in a normal queue, sit in a seat with the ability to recline. I get a snazzy pillow/blanket combo, toothbrush and mini TV console fit snuggly into the back of someone else’s headrest. Our last trip included travel on a real airline, which was in fact my first visit to Changi outside the budget terminal. There’s even a real food court. I finally saw what all the fuss was about.
Certainly, one of the best aspects of Singapore living is the ability to travel. Since birthday weekend, I’ve been to Vietnam and Korea.
As you know, the latter included more than one hearty live squid dinner, an ambulance taxi service from the airport, hours of (questionably located) KTV, 5AM fence scaling, an ice sculpture, a choir of 20 men, and *ta-da* a gold-plated, jade-encrusted crown. In addition to the awesome people.
Vietnam was tame by comparison. The country is beautiful and I loved every bit of it. Since you showcased a few photos of the beach, I thought I would include a few of Hanoi.
Phone line chaos:
I don’t remember what these were called; I was drawn to their donut-like qualities, but they are actually made from glutinous rice:
Ha Long Bay:
Woman selling baguettes on the side of the road:
Singapore Standard Time indicates dinner. My 6AM wake-up call looms. This all points to another jig around the luggage. Maybe I’ll have a PB&K.