Was up at some completely god-awful time this morning and was on the first ferry of the day off the island. Funnily enough I could still use the internet half way across the journey, but it cut out way before I landed. Also, a complete first, and a total Hallmark Moment. I walked straight off the ferry at the Singapore end and straight through immigration! For all of you who have never been through Singapore, it can sometimes take up to 40 minutes usually to get through immigration, so walking straight through is a fucking rarity. Got straight into a taxi to the office of the bloke I needed to see, and he saw me for all of about fifteen seconds and told me to come back in about six hours. So, being stuck in a ridiculously expensive city, with no money, I went for a wander round. After coming to the conclusion that there is absolutely nothing to do, I decide to find myself a hotel that rents rooms by the hour. Having found an 81 hotel just on the next corner, I go and discreetly enquire as to the ‘by the hour’ situation, as, let’s face it, we all know why you rent rooms by the hour. I explain that I have a meeting later in the day and want a room to have a shower etc, and she looks completely disbelievingly at me, but quotes me a price and asks for my passport. Unfortunately, I have already given my passport to the bloke in the offices opposite and won’t see it again for god knows how many hours. I ended up having to give her my immigration slip and guess at my passport number. Hopefully I won’t go to prison for it, but I needed a shower. It is hot outside, even by normal standards, and I am sweating like a necrophiliac in a morgue. Will add more later when my visa gets declined for whatever reason.
Okay, it wasn’t declined, but took a few more hours than expected. Incidentally, the hotel room itself was only slightly larger than a wardrobe, and if you wanted a shower, you really had to be sat on the toilet to get the full effect, as there wasn’t really the room to stand. So was going to have a mooch around Singapore for a bit, having sorted out the business of the day, but was too tired, hot, sweaty, stinky, and pissed off with the whole place to be really bothered. Decided to hop on the MRT (underground), back to the harbour and book my ticket and then spend some time wandering around the shopping centre there, which is pretty extensive and usually filled with some pretty impressive fanny. As I got to the booking queue, turns out that there was a ferry just about to leave, so hopped on that. There was a bloke from the island in the queue in front of me, which was odd. He’s a UK bloke, and the first time I met him, he was wearing the same crappy T-shirt from ‘Georges’ of Asda as I had just bought before coming over, so took the piss out of his fashion sense. I know that is slightly hypocritical, but I am more than aware that my taste in clothing is abominable, so I don’t count it.
While I was on the MRT, they show videos of tube trains exploding and bits of people left after the various terrorist attacks on trains over the past few years in an attempt to make sure you report any left luggage to the authorities. Fuck that! I was shitting myself. Talk about effective shock tactics.
Anyway, just getting back into Batam waters, so will send this off.
Peace out.
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