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The chronicles of two Portlanders in Singapore

This week, Beverly and I are traveling to Singapore on a house-hunting and exploratory trip.  During the week, I’m going to be documenting our trip in small bursts and stream-of-thought posts.   I’ll place these posts under the tag “house hunting” if you want the full digest.

Well, that was interesting.  Rest assured, that no matter the class, my shoulders1and other parts, let’s be honest are too wide to fit cleanly in an airline seat.  Still, the ability to recline to a fully vertical position is really enjoyable and I am quite possibly spoiled on air travel from here on out.  The SkyClub mentality might just be winning here.  Or it’s the lack of sleep – I don’t know how Marty McFly did it, but traveling to the future is tiring work.

So leg one is complete, and we’re now in the SkyClub in Narita, or perhaps one of several, as the airport is divided up in several “satellites”.  I can’t be completely sure – time and space start to meld on long trips, don’t they?

Here’s an example of how – when we first took off from Portland, we were given an option of ordering dinner from the extensive (and quite nice) menu.  The steak was particularly delicious, though my shirt did not seem to agree when a sudden bit of turbulence knocked a soon-to-be-eaten morsel from my fork.  I say it often to Bev, you really can’t take me anywhere.  With dinner & desert being served as we skirted the southern Alaskan coast and Aleutian Islands around what could only have been around 1 pm Pacific, our sense of time was further distorted by a second meal service an hour & half before landing – this time breakfast, scrambled eggs & fruit.  Never mind that it is 3pm local, 10pm Pacific the previous day.  Oh don’t bother with the time zone math, just roll with it, rolling…

Well, I shouldn’t have to deal with the Rolling issue any more – that particular issue got solved in Portland by the incredibly helpful folks at the Delta desk.  I have seemed to encounter a number of folks who refer to me by my last name as if it were my first, so that particular aspect of nomenclature apparently is not local to the United States.  Good to know, good to know.  I suppose I could convince people that my last name is actually “Wayne”, but Christian Bale, I am not.

We’ve been informed upon arriving, all signage to the contrary, that our flight has been delayed an additional hour & a half.  I predict Sapporo and sushi in my future, as both are present here in the SkyClub.  Being able to predict things in my future while a day ahead of most everyone I know & love has a strange, mystical feeling to it.  Trust me, people of the past, mid-afternoon Sunday just outside of Tokyo calls for beer & sushi.  The Great Swami has nothing on my powers of prognostication.

So, for the next nearly four hours, I’ll be taking the future directly in my hands and making all my predictions come true.  Our next stop is (I desperately hope) Singapore, where it will likely be 3am in the morning on Monday, a time which can only be described as the most asshole hour of the week.

Until then!



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