Sorry about crying at the airport. That was inevitable, I guess, but I didn't intend to do it. But I think I started crying sometime on Tuesday and it felt kind of good, so I just kept going. Inevitably, the plane was delayed (partly because of the crazy stormy weather, but partly also because of some stupid seat malfunction in business class. As we boarded two very grumpy-looking women were standing in that kind of weird kitcheny-space they have on planes. A steward asked them if they'd like a champagne and one said, snappily, 'Yes, but not while I'm standing here.' I wonder if she relented during the 45 minutes it took them to fix whatever the problem was? No one was offering the shleppers down in eco class if they'd like a drink. I would've happily taken theirs for them.
So the flight was kind of crap, because Qantas is like that - food was bad, the in flight entertainment inexplicably stopped working half-way through the flight etc etc. And I had a cold that got worse and worse until I seriously thought my eardrum was going to pop. But we made it, and my ear doesn't seem to have popped.
I picked the hotel from the plethora on the internet based purely on the fact that it had a glass lift featured in its profile, and Mads liked the glass lift in Cairns so much that I decided that was enough of a selling point for me. It was a pretty amazing lift. Singapore seems to be mostly shopping and eating, is that right? We did a reasonable amount of eating, but there was no way we felt like shopping after all the stuff we had to deal with during the move. It was actually good - I didn't feel even slightly tempted to shop. Actually, on Sat, I didn't really feel like doing much more than laying in a darkened bed, nursing my sore head, which is basically what I did.
The stop in Singapore was definitely the right to do. About two hours into the flight Mads started saying 'When are we going to get there? This is taking forever etc' and I was so relieved that we only had five hours ahead of us instead of seventeen.
Have to go. The slumberers are stirring. Maybe I should see how long I can go without sleep? Luckily, I'm not capable of actually calculating how many hours I've been awake already, but I do I think I'm starting to hallucinate. I keep having this weird sensation that I quit my job and moved to a country where I don't speak the language or know anyone. Strange....