The in-room dining offers laksa and satay skewers, but we are not in Singapore or Malaysia yet. By this time tomorrow that’s where B and Alex will be.
From our room on the top floor of the Stamford Plaza we overlook Sydney Airport. The heavies sail into the air from the main runway on their way to adventures in far away lands, while the smaller jets’ engines roar as they turn northwards off the third runway to places closer to home.
I try to watch the action. Unfortunately I have work to do. Time off is precious and I don’t have time to spare. With B at work Alex and I left in a rush. The wait for the bus is too long, so we drive to the hotel instead.
Quickly up to the room, I whip out the laptop and connect to my teleconference fifteen minutes late. Afterwards there is more to do.
No matter how much I’ve done, and I’ve done a damned lot these past six months, there is always more to do. I’m tired. I’m also sad. I don’t know why, but right now I don’t feel like travel.
We don’t eat any of those Singaporean dishes, just KFC. I’ve got another day to wait before my journey begins but tomorrow B and Alex will catch an early morning Jetstar flight to Melbourne and onwards to Singapore. I have a concert to go to and another hotel. Then Singapore for real.