Middle East ports of call, sailing through pirate waters to Dubai, Abu Dhabi and Muscat
We traveled through the Gulf of Oman before transiting the Straits of Hormuz. From there we altered course heading into the Persian Gulf and our next port of call, Abu Dhabi.
Up early after having a poor nights sleep. Fifth day of a bloody awful cold that has left me with a barking cough. At one point l thought l had gone down with Covid, but fortunately the test proved negative.
During the day it’s not bad especially if I take my lozenges, good excuse for a chew of the sweet stuff. I’m terrible at times, l can go months without eating anything with sugar in it. But in the Corinthian lounge their delectable morning offering is a step too far. Such a wonderful selection of doughnuts to chose from. Topped with chocolate or caramel, some filled with custard or raspberry. Temptation is too great. That’s the problem with sugar, it’s a drug. Thank god l realise and walk an extra few miles to assay the guilt. Tweek my midriff to check there isn’t any excess fat building up. Or at least only an acceptable amount.
A little r & r in the sun. Not too much, the body isn’t used to it. But l have so many books to get through.
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| Laden Dhow in port |
Another long drive to the city of Al Ain, initially through high rise buildings to compete with Dubai, but eventually we pass through tall sand dunes in the desert. Some other tours were heading here for a 4x4 experience, but the Add ons of belly dances, bubble smoking and traditional Bedouin tent visit was not to our liking. The drive through the desert was on a two lane motorway with trees growing on either side. Their green belt, planted and irrigated by the previous Sultan. Not individually l add.
It’s to try and ensure drivers don’t drive too fast, giving them a point of reference that flashes by. Speed cameras every few miles also seems to have the same effect. Although our driver speeds in between and breaks furiously just before he gets to the next speed camera. Keeps us all awake at least.
Problems on board the ship caused us to be delayed an hour, so the driver is trying to make up time. It soon becomes evident as we are rushed around the fort and museum. Seems that the guide is also under instruction to claw back time. After a ten minute comfort break we have another hours drive before spending thirty minutes at the PALACE MUSEUM. A restored, rambling palace with courtyards filled with cacti and magnolia trees that surround intricate and abundant water features. Which in turn adds the necessary shade and the feeling of calm. Yet once again very short lived as we are whisked away to our next stop. The main reason for booking the trip. The great date plantations of the famous Al Ain oasis - A Unesco World Heritage site - a tranquil, jungly maze, with its 3000-year-old falaj natural irrigation system.
Slight problem, we are only given a meagre 10 minutes to see the gardens, date plantation and oasis. This was reduced to only about 3 minutes, once all the rather infirm passengers had managed to get off the coach. Certain guests were just too old and infirm to be on such a trip without the correct equipment to get them on and off . And there was definitely not enough space to store their mobility scooters, which they definitely required.
But disregarding the hold ups this caused, the crafty guide had also directed the bus to the rear of the gardens, away from the main features. Such a disappointment. The gardens were in a total state of disrepair, a complete mess. The guide, made of Teflon, brushed aside our request to stay longer, explaining that the gardens were not really open at this time of year.
If truth be known, he had to get to the hotel for lunch.
Lunchtime. Passengers from four coaches all arriving and disgorging at the same time trying to obtain lunch from one buffet line. Another embarrassment in organisational ineptitude. An absolute scrum. What happened to the refined guests who travel on Cunard l ask.
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Sixty minutes later, full of indigestion, wind and a need for facilities we head to the camel and animal market on the edge of town. A complete market dealing with every conceivable aspect of the animals journey through life. Veterinary services, food supplies, livestock and agricultural goods, abattoir, tannery and ultimately butchers. Seller of meat and meat products, both camel and goat.
The camel section situated at its heart was a sprawling fly infested area, dusty, pungent and noisy.
As the guide explained, various types of camel were sold at the market, from those just for meat to the highly sort after racing beasts. All sorts of camels were holed up in pens, from wobbly legged babies that might grow up to be racers to imposing studs kept for breeding. Trading takes place in the morning, but the corralled animals stay all day long until they are shipped out to their final destination.
Not that l am an expert on camel quality, but those on offer today didn’t look like prized animals. More likely the working type, along with babies ready to be fattened up for the eventual pot. A sorry state, but perhaps nothing different to a day at the Carlisle livestock market.
At least we didn’t complain about only having ten minutes to visit, before hopping back on the coach and heading back to our last port of call, Abi Dhabi - The Sheikh Zahedan Mosque.
The Grand Mosque totally blew me away, definitely the highlight of the day. Made up for the disappointment of the palm groves and oasis visit. As we approach, the enormity of the structure comes to life. Especially as we seem to be parking miles away from the entrance. Then the guide explained we have to go through underground tunnels to reach it. What l didn’t realise was that you had to enter an underground mall full of shops and fast food haunts, including Mac Donald’s and Boots the Chemist.
Before going through the underpass we are checked out by guards who were rejecting people on a regular basis for being in a state of undress.
Considering that everybody was informed of the specific dress code at the time of booking we still had people who were dressed inappropriately and were refused entry into the Mosque.
Clothing must not be white, animal print, tight fitting or transparent. It should be loose fitting with long sleeves that cover the wrists, cover legs to the ankles and ladies must take a head scarf to cover their head/hair.
Some wore white, others had transparent tops and one ladies skirt stopped 6 inches above her ankle.
On the coach afterwards, all you could hear were the same women complaining that they had missed out and wanted a refund. Only to be informed in a most forcible way by the guide that they had been warned, and their actions disrespected the Muslim faith. At which point the bus erupted in applause.
Must say, the predominant demographic of the thousands visiting the Mosque were not young fanatic Muslims, they were surprisingly enough young smart attractive women. Their only reason for the visit from my observation was definitely not spiritual. It was so they could spring a well performed pose in front of a beautiful backdrop to take a selfie. Most of them fell foul of the security guards who were very strict. Diving on any pouting beauties who were in the process of pulling back the head scarf to show their hair whilst posing for that killer shot to post on Instagram. The advent of the influencer, the new way for fame, glory and a healthy bank balance. But l hasten to add, it wasn’t only the women who were strutting the walk in front of the camera. Quite a few suave sophisticated young men were just as guilty, although being men, they had no worries concerning showing off their dark black shiny hair.
Getting back to the architecture of the mosque. It was unbelievable, light and airy, with a floral theme throughout. The flowers on the wall could have looked big, bright and brash. But in this setting, against the white marble it just looked stunning. There wasn’t a shortage of gold, yet it wasn’t ostentatious. It was used as a punctuation, a highlight. Whether it was at the top of a column or as a frame for the chandeliers. The later being a focal point in their own right. Direct your view as you pass from one area to the next. Then you had the magnificent carpet, the largest hand made in the world. If l can remember correctly, it took 200 women over two years to make. Whereas the carpet in the Muscat Mosque, which used to be the largest , took 300 women five years to make. Draw your own conclusions from that comparison.
Would have relished the opportunity to spend more time, revisiting the interior and strolling through the manicured gardens, but we were only allocated 90 minutes. Another time perhaps, although it is unlikely that we will do this world cruise again. But as they say, never say never.
Yet with the threats around the world at the moment, who knows what might happen in the future. What with China infiltrating into all the Western powers, stealing technology, and buying associations and favours in government around the world. The singular most volatile antics of North Korea, where they are increasing their stockpile of Nuclear rockets to the point that they can threaten virtually all of America. Finally, Russia’s “military exercises “ in Ukraine, who knows what the end result will be. Only time will tell. But the ramifications have already led to the Doomsday clock being reset to 90 seconds, the worst since the Cold War with the USSR.
Moving swiftly on from such depressing news, we have to make the most of our time, enjoy ourselves. Soak up the sun, and cherish all that our eyes perceive.
Our guide in Abu Dhabi was very interesting during our drive to the fort,he started telling us all about the penal system. Explaining that unlike Europe and the U.K., they do not have a great deal of crime. You will not find people being antisocial, or throwing litter around, unlike the U.K. he pointed out. They have too many cameras around the city, and the fines tend to dissuade people. He was quite proud of the fact that they don’t cut thieves hands off anymore. It stopped them being able to work. This caused a problem, because the state became responsible for their livelihood if they didn’t have someone to look after them. Now they just imprison them. Although murderers, rapists and crimes against the state result in execution, but not publicly anymore. It’s more humane, they shoot them behind closed doors in prison.
Less barbaric and more interestingly was how the population was made up in Abu Dhabi. 20% indigenous , 80% expatriates. With the expats made up of roughly 80% Indian 10% Pakistani and the rest others. As you can imagine, the Indian and Pakistani are used in the building industry. They are skilled hard workers. More importantly they are cheap.
Nevertheless, the immigration formalities are exceedingly strict. Firstly you have to be sponsored, then you are allowed in a trial basis for three months. If you pass this it may be extended to six months. Originally this wasn’t the case, but they found from experience that certain people who had impeccable references were not good at their jobs, and it was difficult to cancel their visa. Even though they often found the references and university degrees were all forgeries.
But before you even get to this stage you have to undergo a strict medical examination. So if you have any underlying illnesses such as HIV, diabetes or a heart condition you would not be accepted.
But what really amazed me, was that once you reached retirement age you had to leave the country. You could not stay. So the burden of looking after an ageing population has been nullified. In effect they only have to take care of their indigenous population. Truly amazing. A master stroke if you can get away with it.
They also do not tolerate any illegal immigrants. They are returned to the country from which they have come. After which, the interloper is black listed for life, never being allowed to apply for entry into the country again.
They also had strict rules on immigration for people marrying a resident. A male from outside could not live in the country if he married a resident Abu Dhabi female. Conversely, if a resident male wanted to marry a non Abi Dhabi female , she would have to bare two children from that male and convert to Islam before she could become a resident. Draconian, but it works for them.
Dubai
We are into February, a new month and a new port of call. Dubai. QM2 berthed at the new cruise terminal by the The Palm development, a great spanking new terminal with plenty of facilities. More importantly fantastic internet speed. The telltale sign can be seen by the amount of crew and guests found languishing in the lounge as you disembark the gangplank. Old and young, heads down, fingers tapping away. Virtually complete silence, other than the background noise from the conveyor belt of the X-ray machine.
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| One of the famous hotels in the distance- the Atlantis @ £400+ per night |
The ship had organised a shuttle bus service to take everyone to and from the Emirate Mall. Personally an improvement to the old port, which is located near the old town, next to the now refurbished Queen Elizabeth ll, which has been transformed into a hotel and visitor attraction. It was more of a commercial port, definitely not easy or pleasant to walk through. Whereas this new dedicated cruise terminal is located across from the yacht basin. It’s new and well designed with attractive tree lined walks along the basin, giving you a glimpse of the multimillion pound boats that languish under the incessant sun. Not that we actually did any walking in the open during the day light hours, it was just too hot and humid. Left that for once the sun had set, and the lights came on.
Instead we jumped on the shuttle that manoeuvred its way at a crawl through the impenetrable traffic to the Emirate Mall. The traffic was truly horrendous , stop start all the way. But on the bright side it gave us time to look at the mansions on either side of the main highway. Lavish gardens, all hidden behind tall impregnable walls with highly visible security on the gates.
Makes you wonder why this is necessary, there’s supposedly no crime. The deterrent of detention or execution is far too great the guide tells us. Perhaps all these Middle Eastern states follow the same principles, ruling with an iron fist.
The Emirate Mall, totally different to the massive Dubai Mall. It’s smaller, more down market, or should l say focussed towards the average person, not the mega rich, Ferrari driving local. So in effect, shops that are more appropriate to us. As per usual, they had to add an attraction as an added inducement. In their case a massive indoor ski slope with add on’s for the whole family. Slides, bobsleds & of course plenty of snowball fights. Too cold for me, plus we had to investigate the shops and stores.
Decided we needed a mister to spray steam into the cabin, to help moisten the air-conditioning. The route cause of my consistent cough. After a couple of hours looking and five thousand steps later found one that seemed to fit the bill. So bought one, and it definitely did the trick. No more coughing. Brilliant.
Spent a few more hours dipping in and out of interesting shops, seeing many unusual products not found in the U.K. But realistically the shops were remarkably similar, with many well known European names. So it wasn’t long before we headed back to the ship for an early dinner. We had snacks and a few treats whilst out, but felt virtuous, as we had walked miles whilst browsing.
Following day, it’s off on the shuttle again, but it’s onto the monorail/tube, heading to the old town, along the waterfront. Judith had photographed a circular walk that took us through the Gold and spice Souk. But we soon realised that the maps were not sufficient enough to guide us through the myriad of streets that twisted and turned upon themselves. Eventually took us an hour to find our way back to the underground station. Good job they all have toilets.
Took a different line that deposited us near to the gold market. After being in the chilly air conditioning of the tube it came as a shock to the system once we emerged into the midday sun. Hugging the shade we passed all the new gold shops, with their intricate body jewellery.
Then it’s through the hubbub of the old Souk with the pestering, in your face hawkers trying to sell their wares. An experience, but the sights and smells were memorable. Especially as we twisted and turned through a maze of stalls selling various goods. At one point, coming across a mosque, just at the time of coming to prayer. Elderly men were making their way towards the entrance. Smoke from presumably incense was wafting out of the windows and doors, being burnt to mask the body odours from the less scrupulous amongst the worshiper’s. All adds to the colourful atmosphere of the orient. Thank god l have the ability to close my nostrils, breathing only through the mouth, therefore eliminating what could be an overwhelming nausea. The next turn brought us into the centre of the spice market. On this occasion filled with aromatic spells, a pleasant change.
It’s not long before the incessant noise and bartering forces us away from the frenetic Souk and back to the underground. Retuning us to the Dubai Mall.
Another style of retail therapy. This time in the chilled air conditioned atmosphere of the wealthy at the Dubai Mall.
Found a Tim Horton coffee shop for a really indulgent doughnut, covered in chocolate, washed down with a shot of real coffee, whilst looking out onto the fountains and Dubais tallest building Burj Khalifa
Walked around until we had had enough of people, the shops and the overpowering volume of consumerism. Walking what seemed like miles to catch the monorail to the other mall and our shuttle back to our home from home on water. We had been out all day, so it was great to get refreshed. An early dinner, then out into the now dark evening to walk around the fabulous yacht basin and into the residential area with its bustling nightlife. Vast high rise buildings stuffed to the gunnels with expats, with all manner of bars, clubs and restaurants conveniently situated at ground level to extract the odd Ruble, Dollar or Euro after a full days work.
Muscat
The first time we visited Muscat, we walked along the coast to the old town, and visited the palace before visiting the bustling Souk. The mountainous backdrop was enticing, but we just didn’t have enough time to get anything organised.
On our return we booked a tour into the mountains to visit the old capital and an old fifty room castle. Jabreen fort up in the mountains.
Left the port and immediately came upon the start of a modern urban city that sprawled along side the 3 lane highway.
It took us 30 minutes driving before heading inland, yet we were still in Muscat. It was massive, the city just sprawled out in front of us.
But the road then headed into a mountainous wilderness. Fantastic. Although in some places it did look a lot like an opencast mine, or a quarry.
Unlike the Dubai Souk, selling gold and spices, this traditional local Souk seemed to be for the locals. Very civilised, without the harassment of persistent shopkeepers. Meandered through the various sections starting with the date market, then up into a melange of antiques, selling ancient decorative doors, full body armour, carpets and of course the essential tourist momento, the colourful stuffed camel. Then into the fruit and vegetable market, with the elderly farmers selling their produce. In fact most of them were relaxed, drinking coffee, feet up on a camel stool.
We had been to a lecture on the Marie Theresa silver coin. She was the Empress of the Austrian Hungarian empire. As they traded extensively within the Ottoman Empire she produce a an accurate 23gram silver coin that was stamped and pressed precisely to stop forgeries. Even the edge was stamped to protect from nibbling, ancient tradition of edge cutting. This was then adopted as the main currency for trade. Latterly it was incorporated into jewellery to display wealth. So Judith decided to hunt out an old coin, which she did. Eventually after visiting numerous stalls that had fakes and a few originals that were overpriced she found a stall with a shopkeeper who was helpful and fair. Not sure what we are going to do with it. But it’s a memento.
Then on up into the mountains to the Jabreen Castle. Built in 1675 by Imam Bil-Arab Bin Sultan, Jabreen" Castle was an important centre of learning for astrology, medicine and Islamic law. Unusually for Oman's forts and castles, this was more than four walls. Passageways with stairs shot off in all directions. It had a date store, reading rooms, dungeons, r lounges and of course bedrooms. Many of the rooms had elaborately painted ceilings, truly spectacular.
Now we are moving away from the Middle East, heading through the Indian Ocean. Next port is in six days, Penang. Then KL, Malaysia, quickly followed by two days in Singapore and two days in Thailand, so plenty of time to relax.
Temperature is now just right for the odd lazing about on deck. So our routine is settling down. Still frenetic, but enjoyable. Start earlyish, never too early, because we are losing an hour a night until we are eight hours ahead of U.K. Walk a mile round deck seven, then break off for Tai Chi on the back of the ship, away from all the onlookers. Although we often have people attracted by our Chinese music and hang over the railings to see what’s going on. Then some trot down the steps and stand and look at us in amazement, interrupting our flow. So we have to stop, and answer their inquisitive questions. Explain what it is we are doing, how we started, the benefits and how long we have been doing it. It doesn’t take long before we are talking about the five - two diet and regime. Time fly’s, we end up having to miss the last 15 minutes of the routine because we are racing to the first of our lectures. It’s often the case that we also have to miss breakfast, or at least cut it back to a coffee and a doughnut.
Today it’s a British diplomat talking about spies and the Cold War, followed By Jane Corbin, broadcaster and journalist with talks on Bin Laden, the start of his reign of terror through to his capture. Later in the cruise she talks about other subject’s, in-dispersed by clips from her BBC News Night programs, which just adds gravitas. The one’s l am looking forward to are about the rise of Puten and the New Cold War, both soft and hard and the unleashing of new nuclear powers. Specifically North Korea and the subversive infiltration of the Chinese.
Then we have a professor dissecting art, and what can be gleamed from each painting. Plus a Yale professor who worked for the security arm of the USA, discussing Environmental impact on the world, internet security along with another few subjects, of which the content hasn’t been released.
So as you can see, it’s a full programme of lectures. Keeps us occupied through till 1.30/2.00pm each sea day, after which we dash for a bite of lunch from the Kings Court buffet. Often a bowl of freshly prepared noodles and veg. Or a small bowl of Mac and cheese. Then again, we can be tempted by the roast pork, especially when there’s crackling to be had, or some freshly fried Calamari. At which point l also opt for a few thickly cut chips with garlic mayonnaise. Life’s bloody hard on board, but someone’s got to do it.
Then guilt hits and we walk for another couple of miles before putting our feet up in a lounger and read. Just for an hour to catch some late afternoon rays. Perhaps punctuated by a scone with cream and black cherry jam and a nice cup of tea at 4.30. A few more steps before heading back to our state room for a shower, G&T, and preparation for dinner. Recently we have been favouring the buffet. It tends to fit our grazing nature of eating. Yet on gala nights we normally get dressed up in our finery and head into the dining room, meeting up with friends for some good banter.
The variety of music on board is excellent. You would be hard pushed not to find something that floats your boat, whether it be a concert pianist, quartet, Irish fiddlers, the music director leading the jazz band, popular and operatic singers, Spanish guitarist, big band orchestra and lots more around the lounges and bars.
The other afternoon we were treated to Gullivers new world stage performance with storytelling, singing, and puppetry. Different, yet entertaining.
For me, it’s people watching. Keeps me occupied throughout the day. The ship is a microcosm of life from both ends of the spectrum. Money doesn’t guarantee manners, and smart expensive cloths doesn’t always encompass a nice human being. But there are some very interesting and kind Individuals on board if you only take the time to look.
Penang.
George Town Penang.
It never seems to change, still overflowing with ramshackle buildings, overcrowded, pungent oriental spicy smells wafting around in the humid 37° temperature. But that’s what gives it its charm.
But before we can relax, their is the Singapore health declaration to complete. Slight problem. The Scottish NHS Covid App doesn’t hold your details anymore. It keeps telling you that if going abroad, just phone us and we will post you your upto date vaccination details. Not helpful.
Tried to get details but app kept responding that it was no longer available.
Our previous hard copy form that we had downloaded in January was now out of date. So it was imperative that we downloaded a new one. As the ship internet was so poor it wasn’t an option. So we were sat in the departures hall trying to remedy the problem.
Went to the Scottish NHS website and manoeuvred my way through the site.
Eventually found a link, but it didn’t want to respond. Infuriatingly, it just kept freezing.
Without the form we would be refused entry.
In the end, deleted the app and removed from the phone. And low and behold the link worked. Voilà.
Judith did the same on her phone and it also worked.
Happy to have at long last completed part of the task, headed out into the town. Judith had produced a route to take in all the areas of interest, temples, shrines, public buildings. And we whiled away the morning. We didn’t climb the steps up to the temple or get on the funicular up the mountain because we had done this on many occasions on previous visits. So we returned for lunch, then climbed on the shuttle to inspect the shopping mall. Returning an hour later. I think that says it all.
Another day, and we are heading into Kuala Lumpur.
An hours drive into the centre of KL in an ancient coach rumbling and bouncing around on the back seat. We were in fact 15 minutes ahead of the scheduled time, but the bus was already full when we boarded. Never mind, had a spare carrier bag in case l was uncle dick. Not the best of travellers on a bus.
At one point l didn’t expect to reach the city, the disheveled driver kept dropping down to first gear to get up a slight incline on a three lane highway.
We were let off at the Petronas Twin Towers and Mall, an up market with all the high flyers. Every high cost brand you can imagine, as long as you have the wallet to match.
We set off on our own, firstly to the KL Tower, not that we wanted to go up-to the top. Not with my vertigo. Then to the Jungle Walk, situated in the centre of the city. We were going to go to the botanical Gardens but it was just too far away to reach with the amount of time that we had.
So opted for the river and temples instead. Magnificent, although very crowded. Mainly from bus loads on tour from our very own QM2.
Walked along the river, then off into the local markets before stopping for lunch. By which time it was time to make our way back to the bus at the Petronas Mall. And another hour and a bit through heavy traffic to the ship. Exhausted. Well we had walked a total of 12 miles. Good excuse to eat three course dinner with the odd glass of wine when we returned.
Singapore
Slightly overcast, so a comfortable temperature as we head out on the coastal path to find the underground.
Quickly realise that we have to remember to walk on the left, and stay on the left, especially on an escalator, to allow people to walk up on the right hand side. Very regimental and organised. But no graffiti or rubbish to be found.
Everyone is very pleasant and helpful although we did have a difficulty getting into the underground. Wanted to buy a ticket using our revolut card, but was unable to use it for more than one person. Realised you have to use the same card for entering tans for exiting, so we just use two credit cards and then everything was hunky-dory.
Come off the underground at a gigantic Mall close to Fort Canning Park, The mall had at least six levels teaming with every conceivable shops you could ever wish for. Whilst the ground floor had a vast selection of food outlets that seemed to go on for miles.
Everything so regimented and precise. But that’s good in many ways because everyone knows exactly what they’re supposed to be doing, what is allowed and what is not. They don’t have to think they can just walk aimlessly as long as it’s on the left hand side.
Everyone seems so polite, pointing you in the right direction when necessary, as well as asking if you need any help when they see you in a totally lost state.
But above all else, I love the abundance of greenery. it’s so lush and it’s everywhere, the smell of rotten vegetation, and freshly cut grass mixed with the fragrant aroma of the flowers. Especially the large white frangipani. All the roads are lined with trees and shrubs and the buildings seem to be sprouting vegetation all around them, even from the roof tops. Magical.
We have just had a downpour. Good job we had our umbrellas. The earth smells fresh and clean as we enter Fort Canning Park.
Climb up the bank and Judith points at something “l want one of these in my garden” and I see this beautiful goldfish pond with waterfalls and fountains. But no, that’s not what she’s pointing at, she’s pointing at the set of escalators that takes you up the hill.
That’s what you call special, escalators to take you a hill side
Everywhere you look there is lush verdant greenery, all the trees are overloaded with air plants, berries or giant flowers. There are birds singing their hearts out, butterflies the size of saucers. An oasis of serenity amidst the ever-bustling hum of Singapore's Civic District.
We stumble upon a great interpretation centre, that covers the evolution, creator and of course the invasion by Japan WWII. As well of its rise to fame and fortune.
Watched an interactive map, day by day of the fall of Singapore from day 9 through to the surrender by the British.
Two young Japanese people took an intake of breath when we got to the point when the Japanese killed Doctors, staff and patients in the hospital.
Was it shock, the first realisation of the atrocities performed by their ancestors?
Momentous moments in history. Or an action by a few that imprints on the mind forever.
Then we circumnavigate and dissect the park, stopping off for a fabulous, yet very expensive coffee at the parks outside restaurant.
Visit all the different temples from the various faiths, that all seem to coexist in total harmony. Not sure if that’s the case, but it seems that way.
Little India is vibrant and colourful, but it’s also littered with rubbish. Very un Singaporean.
Then into the Arab section where we got ourselves completely lost and headed over a bypass and ended up down in some works. Eventually found our way back after a very hot and sweaty 30 odd minutes.
Reunited with the underground we exit where the mall was or supposed to be. But in fact it wasn’t, it was nowhere to be seen. After asking a local we had a further 20 minutes walk before we actually came to it. But the sight of the Mall, hotel and floating garden was absolutely amazing.
The Gardens on the Bay is truly magnificent, although it did take me a little few scary moments as we had to get on a very steep escalator to get onto the roof. Once up there l was fine, it was wide enough to give me enough protection to walk down the centre and not feel any vertigo whatsoever. And the views were just truly spectacular then we entered into the hotel at about the 10thfloor and looked down onto ants milling around the foyer and all the restaurants.
To be honest it didn’t look very special, even though the outside of the hotel was spectacular because of this big kidney bean floating on top. From all accounts that was the piece de resistance, the views were amazing to those who ventured up.
We continue the walk through the rooftop gardens overlooking 23 acres of plush landscaping, vibrant green trees and marvel at the metal tree like structures, covered in greenery, that fly into the sky. Even more impressive when they are all illuminated at night.
We return to the ship hot and rather soaked by the sweat from the humidity. Have a quick shower and then nip in to the buffet for some cheese biscuits, a will chilled and iced gin and tonic and a large chilled glass of wine for Judith. Then up onto deck 12 to look at the lights as they change and jump from one colour to another on the skyline. Amazing.
Enjoy the peace and quiet of deck twelve, watching the light display. So much so decide to have a nice cold refreshing beer.
My first pint of beer on the cruise. It was wonderful. Judith pointed out that l had eaten into a litre of gin. So l shouldn’t make out that l had pledged allegiance to the temperance society.
After the horrendous scramble to get through immigration yesterday, today was very straightforward all automated. Sailed through without a hitch. Caught the shuttle and arrived in the Mall early. Fortunately all the shops were closed, but the toilets were open.
Started our preplanned circular walk over the Helix bridge and around the lagoon under the Singapore Formula 1 stand o and down to the Lion fountain.
The Orientals seem to have an obsession with taking selfies but they seem to have some wonderful poses, pointed toes, heads tilted to one side. it’s amazing how professionally they perform, they must spend hours looking in the mirror to just get it right.
Although there is also the dark side. As we crossed the Helix bridge first thing, a scantily clad girl in a very short wedding dress was posing for a professional photographer, then just a head, a girl wearing a black maids outfit and thigh high boots was doing the same thing. Definitely not innocent. Perhaps provocative photos to put up on Tinder to find a rich husband. Who knows.
The Merlion is the official mascot of Singapore. A mythical creature with the head of a lion and the body of a fish.
Return to the ship, and everything in the buffet is on increased security just as a precaution. Frightened that the new influx of passengers, mainly Singapore’s may bring on Covid. Which in turn if spread could once again scuttle our world cruise.
Everything is served, hot & cold food even coffee. You can’t help yourselves from the buffet.
Due to the ingress of new guests boarding from Singapore. Yet people still walk around in public without a mask, and don’t seem to have the sense to wash or clean their hands.
The old BBC test card
Need to start broadcasting the old 1950s newsreel footage of the BBCs coughs and sneezes spread diseases film clip. Most of the people on board are old enough to remember them. They just have become lazy and part of the entitled crowd. Those who feel that they shouldn’t be told to do anything, that goes against their individual rights. No matter how their selfishness may impact on others.
A whole new tranche of guests boarded today, and it seems to have changed the flavour of the cruise, mainly due the input of a 1000 Singaporeans, who are on for 9 days only. Initially, the cruise was heading for Hong Kong, so one presumes they were cruising their to see family and friends. So it’s turned into a Chinese party cruise for them. They do seem to chatter nonstop at a volume that cuts across the European tongue and eears.
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