Surprising Horizons

The Joy of Travel. The Realities of New Experiences.

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007 in Concert


Bond. James Bond. The movies go hand in hand with the theme music. Maybe even, in some cases, the songs eclipse the actual movie. Oscar nominations and wins prove that point, actually!

Thus and therefore we have concerts and performances centered purely on the classic Bond music over the past five decades and further thusly 007 in Concert was performed in the Marina Bay Sands MasterCard Theatre on the 19 and 20th January. British conductor, Pete Harrison, led his 28 piece orchestra accompanied by two vocalists (Laura Tebbutt and Tim Howar) for the more…vocal…of numbers

It was an excellent night all around and musically a treat for sore ears which are bombarded by a mish-mash of fake music vomited out of taxi radios and Uber Food scooters on a daily basis.

The concert was done (thankfully) chronologically which means starting off with the “we all know it” James Bond theme from Dr. No. Continuing through, one would argue, probably the most richest and charismatic suite of songs from the Sean Connery era. From Russia With Love (Matt Monro), Goldfinger (Shirley Bassey), and Thunderball (Tom Jones) are absolute belters of songs. Vocally exploding at various times they are a magical trio of theme songs that befit the era and ooze secret service and danger. You Only Live Twice takes the James Bond theme in another brilliant direction. More swinging and soothing vocals by Nancy Sinatra which still exudes Bondism; intrigue, dangerous romance, and secrecy. Amazing. Diamonds Are Forever wraps up the (real) Connery era with Shirley Bassey annunciating the words as only she can. The song perfectly portrays the major roles women have in the Bond universe.
All songs were delivered perfectly by Tebutt and Howar who both did an amazing job all night.

Let’s not forget On Her Majesty’s Secret Service with George Lazenby. It actually had two amazing songs; both the instrumental theme music of the same music (a masterfully Barry composed spy-laden swooping musical number) and the sentimental Louis Armstrong We Have All The Time In The World. Sung, on the night, by a local guest singer it was well sung but a bit smarmy; like a drunk wannabe Bond waiting to leech on a couple of nuns.

On to Roger Moore; my era’s bond. Live and Let Die was done as an encore (which I missed as Mrs. Horizons was falling asleep). I’m sure it was great and rocking! This era was one of female lead vocalists and a general theme of slow-paced reflective pieces. Carly Simon’s Nobody Does It Better is a classic; a melancholic nod to Bond’s trail of influence he leaves behind him. Radiohead (who will pop up later) covered this at some point; check it out. Shirley Bassey’s Moonraker was skipped over for some reason with an instrumental from that movie played. Sheena Easton’s For Your Eyes Only keeps up the Moore era theme of the female perspective; a little schmalzy for me but still a strong song. All Time High  (originally sung by Rita Coolidge) from Octopussy was sung by a local singer whose dress almost passed her butt cheeks. Great voice but, yeah…Also probably the weakest song of the night. Tebutt did a great job on all the other songs.

Moore and Dalton overlap thematically for me with two songs/movies. And the conductor agreed as they played them together. A View To A Kill (Moore) by Duran Duran and The Living Daylights (Dalton) by A-Ha are both quite a dramatic synth-pop turn after all the female driven thematic era of Moore Bond music. I like them both though and they are also songs I remember from the time. Both performed well by Howar on the night. Dalton’s final movie as Bond License To Kill I actually don’t remember if they played it….(Gladys Knight sung the original)…Hmmm. I’m sure I would have remembered….odd..

Pierce Brosnan time, to be sure. A pretty weak run of songs here in my opinion with Tina Turner’s Goldeneye being the only powerful Bond song from the era. On the night they bundled them altogether too as they really don’t warrant any major time separately. Sheryl Crow’s Tomorrow Never Dies is okay if not a paint by numbers run through of a Bond song. The World is Not Enough by Garbage (how the hell did they get that gig?!) is pretty…garbage to be honest. Die Another Day by Madonna is up there with the worst of the Bond songs ever. All sung admirably well on the night by Tebutt again.

Finally the Daniel Craig era. Howar took on Chris Cornell’s You Know My Name from Casino Royale (with a very nice “this one’s for you Chris” before singing) and did it justice. It’s hard to do Cornell. Some instrumental from Quantum of Solace followed (I think) before the final two recent Bond songs. Adele’s Skyfall is a hark back to classic Bond songs whilst Sam Smith’s Writing On The Wall from Spectre will always be a little too..weird for me as a Bond song. It doesn’t help knowing Radiohead’s Spectre was booted for Smith’s cracking-glass-high-pitch effort. Rejected for being dark?! It should be and it suited Spectre a million times more than Smith’s song. Smith won an Oscar though…maybe I’m out of touch with reality.
Both Tebutt and Howar did well (with Howar doing his utmost with Smith’s crazy high vocals) with these show enders.

Also played during the set was The Pink Panther theme and a medley of American cop shows; most notably Police Squad! Welcomed.

I’ll leave you with what could have been…

That’s it. Surprisinghorizons will return in….Another Blog Post.

Singapore Food Staples: Bak Kut Teh 肉骨茶


I have a mission and I have chosen to accept it. 30 dishes that are quintessentially Singaporean. To be eaten before July 2018.

The first dish Bak Kut Teh 肉骨茶, thankfully, wasn’t that displeasing when described on paper. It basically means meat bone tea. It’s not really tea but you can drink tea with it so stop worrying.

We headed to Song Fa Bak Kut Teh at 17 New Bridge Road.

They also have an outlet a few doors down on the corner at 11 New Bridge Road. I think they channel people to whichever one is less busy.


Song Fa’s menu has a number of offerings but the first dish on their menu is their most famous and the one we were there for. You can order the Bak Kut Teh classic meat (pork) bone tea with two or four bones. The four bones were the order of the day as it was unseasonably cold (23c!) in Singapore and we needed some sustenance.



So the Bak Kut Teh as a bowl in front of your face is quite plain visually but it packs a deliciously peppery broth which the pork bones lounge in. The meat on the bones can be pulled off quite easily with your chopsticks and the pork itself is flavourful and tasty. It’s the broth that wins in this dish though and the service staff come around and refill you a couple of times to keep the heat going. The broth, it is said, has a mixture of herbs and spices including cinnamon, garlic, and cloves. The garlic part is quite obvious as there were two whole cloves were present and were a nice textural contrast to the pork and broth. I felt that the overall taste was of pepper but there was a definite complexity behind it and every mouthful was tasty.




Other side entertainment we ordered were a side dish of greens; fine. Some dough fritters which were amazing dipped into the broth and the ubiquitous bowl of white rice. A small pot of tea was ritualistically made for us by the service staff which was nice of them when they saw our deer in the headlights faces when presented with the tools to make it with.


The decor at Song Fa (at least at 17 New Bridge Road) is made to be ye olde timey Chinese village eatery and it is cosy and welcoming. Service was attentive and friendly. Prices, below, weren’t too crazy and I would recommend it as a place to take visitors to Singapore as the food on offer isn’t unpalatable to noobish non-Asian stomachs.


New Doc 2018-01-14

Visiting Haw Par Villa in Singapore


You want to see some weird sh…tuff in Singapore? Sick of the pristine sidewalks and effective transportation systems? Sick of the amazing food? Want to see what Singaporeans will create when they let their imagination run wild and allow all their weird sick fantasies out into the open? Proceed to Haw Par Villa. It even has its own MRT station. Uh-huh.

If you’ve used Tiger Balm at all in your life then you have contributed to this…strange…place. You see the creator of Tiger Balm, Ah Boon Haw, created Haw Par Willa in 1937 based on old Asian stories and myths.

It’s also free to enter so you probably want to pop along to give your wallets a brief respite in Singapore. Let’s take a look.


Best to head early in the morning and head for the 10 Courts of Hell area as that’s where the weirder stuff is. You pass an epic fight between rabbits and rats on the way. Naturally.


The Ten Courts of Hell is based on Chinese mythology. It’s not pretty. I guess it was intended to put people off being naughty. Above you see what happens when you jaywalk in Singapore.


The crime for the above court of torture? Graffiti. With permanent marker. Ooohhh.


Getting sawn in half with a big cleaver. This happens if you don’t finish all your food at a hawker centre. Actually I’m not even joking; one of the reasons for this torture is “wasting food”.


Judge Judy didn’t take any prisoners in a previous life. Getting cut in half vertically was the antidote to rumour mongering. Our next door neighbours fight a lot; that’s not a rumour, that’s fact. What do I get?


After you leave the 10 Courts of Hell you can apply some Tiger Balm to your wounds by a friendly tiger. Sorted.


Some turtles bring you back to a sense of zen and peace.


And then all is forgotten by the fat jolly Buddha.


There are a couple of monuments to the creator’s family dotted around.


Thankfully the only monkeys were mythological monkey god ones.


“He who can climb well shall not be dragged into caves by wolves.”


The Titanic recreation was a bit more dramatic; we see Rose after dropping Jack off the front here straight into a shark’s snappers. Nice. Would have added some spice to the movie. Cameron take note.


The work put into the stories is quite impressive but wear and tear is apparent.


Finally, near the top of the park a nice serene Guanyin the “Goddess of Mercy” to allay all our fears that the world is going to eat us up.

Yes, so it’s an interesting little attraction to go visit. Your reaction to the different displays will range from “what the hell…?” (literally), “that’s gotta hurt”, and “huh, that’s weird”.

Impressionist Exhibition in Singapore

Colours of Impressionism is currently running in the National Gallery Singapore until March 2018. It brings together over 60 Impressionist paintings from the Musée d’Orsay Paris with a few offerings before and after the main era of Impressionism. It was amazing to see so many Impressionist paintings in Asia as it’s rare that any French Impressionist paintings are gathered in one place in the region usually. Let’s take a quick peek at a small selection of what was on show. If you’re in town, make sure you take time to visit. Locally based teachers get free entry. Result.




Monet along with Renoir may be seen as the pinnacle of French Impressionism and I won’t argue with that. Both artists are represented well at the exhibition with more of a Monet presence. Some of the highlights from Monet include two from his most famed “series” paintings. Of course, no waterlily painting would be a disappointment so it’s pleasing to see one here. One of many that he painted when he set up his studio in Giverny. One of Monet’s 30 Roeun Cathedral paintings is also here with his study of the thick, clumpy facade painted under direct sunlight.

Renoir’s late works were severely compromised by his rheumatism in his hands and a lot of his female paintings suffered with anatomical anomalies; Gabrielle with a Rose still holding his genius at capturing the female form but beginning to show the effects that strapping paint brushes to his hands were taking.


Paul Gauguin (he who was Van Gogh’s pre-ear removal buddy) and a lesser seen “normal” Impressionistic snowscape. If you are to see Gauguin in a museum or book you will see that he best known for more lurid flat colors with Tahiti ladies and storytelling through symbolism. Nothing of the sort here but very interesting to see his early work.


Pissarro was dirt poor and never really got out of his monetary slump until really late in life whilst Monet and Renoir found fame a little earlier in life. (but both had their horrendous moments sans argent!). Pissarro seemed to float around and adapt whomever’s style he was hanging around with at the time so never really had a set style until his 60s I guess. He is mostly known for his peasant scenes.


Caillebotte is probably my favorite Impressionist. Who I hear you warble?! He was a highly competent artist who painted mainly city scenes around Paris. His paintings are a little more polished than his Impressionist comrades. More importantly the dude was rich so he ended up buying a lot of his Impressionist friends’ paintings. Mainly because he liked them but because he knew he was propping them up financially. Check him out when you can. I think without Caillebotte a lot of the artists around Paris at the time may not have been able to paint as much as they could have.


Sisley was a British dude who spent much of his time in Paris. Above is a simple yet serene and peaceful scene of a flood in the town of Port Marly. Probably the least recognized member of the movement both during his life and after. Probably was even more strapped for cash during his life (especially after his father’s death) than Pissarro. But Sisley, on canvas, remains one of the most traditional Impressionist painters in history. He stuck with painting fleeting rural scenes and painted en plein air mostly. Under-rated.


Moving on to post-impressionism or neo-impressionism. Cezanne led the charge. Meticulous to the point of not signing the majority of paintings you will see in museums around the world. He never really thought they were finished. He is a major influencer of artists of the early 20th century most notably Picasso and Matisse. Ya gotta like his flat colored geometric takes on nature. Ya gotta.


Paul Signac the other other pointillist painter. You know a Signac as his “points” are usually more rectangular than dots. Zoomed on this one so you can tell. Now you know. I like his stuff.


A bit of a coup is the three preparatory pointillist sketches of Georges Seurat for his gigantic masterpiece A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte (which I had the pleasure of seeing in Chicago a few years ago). Seurat only completed a small number of major paintings but many many sketches and prep paintings exist. Sadly he died very young at 31; one can only imagine what he would have accomplished with a longer life…sniff.

A very nice surprise on display are two palettes that were left in Renoir’s and Degas’ studios when they died. You can almost see the genre of paintings they are known for by looking at how they are mixing the colors on the palettes.

Visiting [email protected]


Visitors to Singapore may not believe or realize that there are a number of high vantage points from where you can see the island apart from the top of Marina Bay Sands. And they don’t involve rubbing shoulders with the touristy hordes either.

I’ve already shown you The [email protected] and the [email protected] has been on my radar for a while but I didn’t get the chance to go until Christmas Day this year. And why not?

If you’re based around Orchard Road, it’s about a 45 minute walk from Ion Orchard and if you sweat by Chatsworth Road you will see some crazy houses along the way. Make it a journey! Or get the 111 bus from opposite Orchard station which will drop you nearby.

The @Dawson HDB (housing development board) apartment blocks are seen as the next evolution of government public housing on the island. The Skyville and SkyTerrace will soon be joined by 5 more blocks to be completed by 2020. Whilst the SkyTerrace is lauded for its greenery inspired architecture, the Skyville boasts a 47th top floor sky garden. Which is where we headed.

Entry is free and you just walk up to an elevator and press 47. Done. There are other lower floored gardens for the more ground level loving visitors. Up to 47 we went.
After our visit we went to the SkyTerrace top floor but it’s just condos up there and no communal space; their gardens seem to be set down lower but there is no information what floors they are on in the elevator (unlike Skyville). If you want to get a bird’s eye view of Singapore head to Skyville and you won’t be disappointed.











Christmas in Singapore: Orchard Road & Gardens By The Bay


I have got used to seeing Christmas decorations and experiencing 99%  humidity at the same time. It’s been 10 years living in Asia, I better have.

Orchard Road starts setting up Christmas decorations in October due to the huge amount of work that is involved. In all fairness, they do a good job.
Gardens by the Bay, on the other hand, charges people $8 to get into their Winter Wonderland which has a bunch of food stalls, games, and the ubiquitous Santa in a grotto.

I wandered along Orchard Road and paid the $8 to stroll around alongside eager children dragging their parents around the Winter Wonderland.

Orchard Road

Take a walk from Wheelock Place down towards Somerset 313 and you will see the main Christmas sights (lights/trees/performances) you will need to see (including the small Christmas market outside Ngee Ann City). I think the backdrop of high-end shops make perfect backgrounds for Christmas trees…because that’s what Christmas is all about right?






Winter Wonderland

It’s worth popping along to the Winter Wonderland for 19:45 or 20:45 for the Christmas themed light/audio show then get out of there with children’s wailing and parent’s resigned sighs ringing echoes in your ears.




The Death of Dakota Crescent


With the recent news that Dakota Crescent will be demolished to make way for a new apartment complex, the final death bell tolled for the erstwhile Instgram-friendly low-rise 1950s apartment blocks.

Long been a weird little side-trip to experience what it might have been like to live in a 1950s style housing development,  the government will chuck everyone out on their collective ear whenever they feel like it – there is no solid demolishing date set yet. Some buildings will be saved for prosperity (or for dead body storage) and the iconic dove playground will also be saved. In some form or another.

I trundled along a while ago to photograph some slices of life that I could capture. I will photo-essay the rest of the way. Enjoy.

IMG_9976Some apartments were already abandoned and empty. They were small and the overabundant concrete walls and fittings gave the apartments a cold and threadbare air.

IMG_9967Like other public housing around Singapore there are plenty of nice angles cutting through the Singaporean sky. You just have to look up.

IMG_9968They took their safety very seriously. The metal security doors wouldn’t look out of place on Alcatraz.

IMG_9951The cream coloured walls dissect the small green spaces around Dakota Crescent.

IMG_9944There are a number of different sign posts clamped on to the buildings around Dakota Crescent. I’m sure they might start disappearing soon by some opportunistic cultural-historical vultures.

IMG_9939The brickwork shows signs of aging in parts.

IMG_9932I didn’t. Might need to put a high security metal door around your potted fruit. I like the use of verb “pluck” here; very unexpected.

IMG_9923There was an air of quiet resignation around Dakota Crescent – like the atmosphere that Rochor Centre had in the run up to its end of days.

The famous pigeon playground will “stay” so “they” say. Perhaps it will be preserved in amber or something.

The playground is used mostly by mosquitoes now.

IMG_0013One of the cool things about Dakota Crescent is the contrast between the different wall textures. Here you get a trifecta or fourfecta if you’re being really precise.

Dakota Crescent will be missed. Therein lies the price of progress I mutter as I stretch back in my modern condo built on top of the bones of 1950’s Singapore.

It never rains but it ‘pores..

You know you’re in Singapore….

when it gets ominously dark (must-have-lights-on dark) hours away from sunset and clouds roll in black and dark like the end of times.

when rain hits sodden grounds and weary roofs at a decibel level where you can’t hear what a person is screaming into your ear.

when drains and culverts do their best impression of Niagara Falls eager to escape onto innocent not yet wet bystanders.

when five seconds caught without an umbrella results in a sogginess level (what’s the Richter scale for wetness?) equivalent to that of a freshly tea-dunked biscuit.

when the availability of taxis due to rainfall diminishes to the magnitude of the Mary Celeste.

when looking at the rain radar map of Singapore looks like an unwelcome MRI scan result.

when the sun is sitting pretty in a wallpaper of blue but you still end up taking an umbrella (just in case).

when dashing from tree cover to tree cover becomes a national sporting event.

when trains are delayed for more than 20 hours due to to train tunnels being flooded.

when lightning illuminates the night like day.

when thunder rattles skulls.

It never rains but it ‘pores? Damn straight.

Madame President, I Presume?

Hear ye, hear ye! Singapore has its first female president!

Ireland had its first female president back in 1990 but, you know, some countries have to start somewhere.

But all is not sweetness and roses in Singapore with Mdm Halimah Yacob’s appointment. You see, some Singaporeans feel slighted that Mdm Yacob has walked into the position due to some untimely government….restructuring of nominee procedures. Yes, that’s it.

In September 2016, the government mandated that this year’s president should be of Malay origin. A “reserved election”. The last Malay president was in 1970. The government stipulated if a race has not been president for five terms or 30 years then the “reserved election” for that certain race would be held.

Secondly, this criteria was also mandated:

A qualifying candidate from the private sector should be a senior executive managing a company with at least S$500 million in shareholders’ equity. Previously, such a candidate had to be a chairman or CEO of a company with at least S$100 million in paid-up capital.

These two rulings were seen to be handcuffing or directing the presidential hopefuls into a certain race and/or having a certain professional financial prowess. So, Mdm Yacob being Malay and a public servant (MP and Speaker of the House) didn’t have any limitations whatsoever to her running. The two public sector Malays who wanted to run fell short when it came to the equity in their private professional career. Thus, Mdm Yacob was elected unopposed and un-voted for by the public.

Challenges and Questioning

Some saw this whole process as racial profiling. Taxi drivers tut-tutted; the universal taxi language of quiet disagreement. Some questioned the fact that the Prime Minister had been of Chinese origin since Singapore’s independence, and questioned when other ethnicities would have a chance at PM.

So the presidential “election” process was seen as discrimination…but a positive discrimination in a sense! People arguing that no matter what race you are you should get a place in office regardless of ethnic background. The backlash has not been about Mdm. Yacob who is actually seen as quite a likeable and well respected person for the job. Merely, the machinations that put her in that position.

Are there deeper and more insidious gears and wheels turning in the background behind all the changes to the presidential election framework? I’m afraid I’m too much of an outsider to embellish opinion. I will drop in a few quotes from people who are closer to the wheel-house:


In February this year, Chan Chun Sing, potential next prime minister, stood up in parliament and called Halimah Yacob “Madam President” (video at the bottom). Was it a slip? Maybe. But he did it not once but twice, laughing along with his fellow PAP politicians, having a ball of a time, delighting themselves in their own megalomaniac conceit.

We should think about this carefully and clearly. It is no laughing matter. A full seven months before the election, Halimah’s colleagues were already calling it in her favour. They made a blatant mockery of our democratic process.


No amount of contrived reasoning put forward , ranging from the absolute necessity of the scheme to Ensure multiculturism, to preventing terrorism ( the most absurd reason I have ever heard ) or the uprightness of the PAP in sacrificing political capital to maintain social harmony ( another baloney ) will ever convince Singaporeans of the righteousness of an evil scheme that has laid to waste 52 years of nation building. Everyone knew that this evil scheme was concocted by the Establishment to deprive Dr Tan Cheng Bock of the Presidency . So desperate were they to hold on to this lever of power that they were willing to sacrifice political capital to achieve it .


So, it’s been nearly two months now since Mdm. Halimah has been sworn in. She has moved from her “normal” living in a HDB flat due to increased security concerns (not at all down to her neighbour’s lives being thrown upside down by all the extra commotion!) to the Istana or another landed property, both of which have a few more square feet I’m guessing.
The drama has died down somewhat but even the Straits Times are still opining about race and national identity in the aftermath of it all.

As an expat living here, I wish her all the best in holding the office as President of Singapore. As an expat I also can’t begin to analyse or suggest understanding of the underlying racial and national identity undercurrents that bubble up in Singapore from time to time. It’s there. It’s something that is deemed to be readily and openly discussed and debated upon but there’s an element of reticence and reluctance. The memories of the race riots of 1964 still remain vivid in people’s minds and after a smaller incident in Little India in 2013 the stricter weekend ban on drinking alcohol in areas such as Little India and Geylang soon followed suit with an overall ban on public drinking from 10:30 to 7am islandwide. Fears quashed.

In my own aloof and simperish ex-pat ways, I experienced a certain reverse (at least from my own standpoint) racial profiling recently when looking to rent an apartment and inquiring after my nationality was one of the first demands from the landlord’s agent over SMS. I got the vibe that some nationalities wouldn’t be equally as accepted as other nationalities.

Luckily being Irish hasn’t been seen as a negative thing over here in Asia. Yet…


On Flying

It starts with the journey to the airport. You know you’re about to experience humanity at its worst and you won’t be able to escape it. You ride along in grim determination and simmering resignation to what’s about to unfold.

The terminal. Lost fingers point in different directions. Children with wide eyes follow along because that’s what they do. Check in. Eyes up. Blue screens answer with numbers and letters and it makes sense. Line up.
Too close.
Too slow.
Too far.
Too smelly.
Too loud.
Pay attention, alright?!! The world is happening outside of your bubble of ignorant existence!! How many suitcases can one person check in?! And why are they always in front of me?!
They have a Ming Dynasty vase that needs taken care of. Naturally.
They have a passport from the South Sandwich Islands. Needs to be telegraphed there for proof of citizenship. Naturally.
“Do you have any of the illustrated banned items in your suitcase?”
“No” Hell no.
Not the time for bleating simperish humour directed at an audience of one followed by an audience of heavily armed police.
Checked in.
Line up. Just go. Security. Pockets. Check. Again. Laptop gymnastics. Shoes on or shoes off? How paranoid is this country?! Sidle through the portal through to the other dimension where having all your stuff back in your pockets and bag is a fundamental right of existence.

Waiting. Wait. Waiting. Ignore life. Ignore some more. Delaying the inevitable. Time doesn’t change its gait.
Gate. Time to guess which person is on your flight and sitting in very close proximity to you. With elbows of granite and phlegmy affirmations.
Boarding. Let us all gather en masse and ignore all directions. First class and business class please prance your way through the commoner yokels waving your golden tickets. Just push them out of your way at your leisurrrrre. We’ll wait. We have to. That’s how it is.

Boarding. The initial joy of freedom past the boarding counter dissipates into a line of people who struggle with luggage calisthenics in the aisles. No you probably can’t fit your grand piano in the overhead. But, by all means, block the aisle for 10 minutes trying to do so. And yes, it’s absolutely necessary for you to take your jacket off in the aisle before sitting. Fold it twenty times and place it in the overhead locker for good measure.

Seats. Planes. Hell. Every stitch sewed by satan. Every nut and bolt placed by a maniac. Armrests measured precisely by psychotic cave dwelling bat people. Yes, person in front of me, it IS more pleasurable for you to recline your seat 1 inch into my knees to watch your movie. It’s also pleasurable for me to bang my knees into your reclined seat every 10 seconds.

Food. Prisons in Guatemala have better food than airplanes. Fact. There’s always chicken. And a sprig of broccoli. And some vague sauce. Never fear, there’s always a bucket of fish heads if they run out of options by the time they come to you. Alcohol elevates the taste by making you care less about life and your tastebuds.

Turbulence is the opposite of fun. I used to stare at the sky in wonderment at clouds. Some even look like old cartoon characters. Merely joyous yet duplicitous disguises. Now I know. Now I know. Some clouds are jerks. Some clouds reach up high with their scuffy appendages and roughly tickle passing airplanes for pure enjoyment. Jerks.

Landed. Joy of joyous joys. Yes why don’t you stand up and take your bag out of the overhead whilst the reverse thrusters are still countering Newton’s 3rd Law along the runway. Stuck behind Diana Ross who has 50 suitcases and a chandelier to extract before the whole plane can trundle out of the plane weeping.

“Thank you for travelling with us. See you again.”

“Yes. Yes you will.”

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