At Singapore

At last, the descent began. Singapore was ahead. After the emptiness of the sea, and the vastness of the Australian desert, it was a startling contrast to see Singapore's towers jutting towards us as the final descent took place.

Changi Airport is a vast place, but sadly lacking in seating facilities, at least in the departure lounge area.

When I last passed through Changi, in May 2003, security was tight and obvious. Armed soldiers patrolled, every item of luggage was scrutinised.

To add to our difficulties, both my wife and I were recovering from upper respiratory tract infections as we headed towards London, and still suffering intermittent fevers. This was in the time of SARS (Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome) which had hit several Asian countries hard. As we entered the country, we had to pass through a body temperature scanner, and were afraid of being diverted to hospital. Fortunately, paracetamol saved our day.

The airport has an interesting arrangement whereby you can take a bus tour of the city while waiting for your flight. I had an 11 hour stopover, so I opted to take this tour -- 4 pm to 6 pm the lady at the kiosk told me. She also cheerily told me in delightful accents how tired she was and how she glad she would be not to have to deal with any more travellers who didn't speak English.

This tour arrangement had an interesting plan, whereby as little information was given until travellers were actually on board.

My flight had arrived at around 12:30, and, although I had done little more than call family to say I was safely there, I was surprised to learn that I had already missed the 1 pm to 3 pm (I think) tour. I could handle that fact, though. Perhaps it was already fully subscribed. Or perhaps there were administrative details to attend to before they left.

So I booked in. I had three hours to explore the airport, get a coffee, check out the shops. Not too bad. I would return around 3:45 pm.

"No: you be here 2:45," the woman told me. If I wasn't there in time, I would miss out.

Fortunately I decided to return early, although I still hadn't had my coffee. I thought I would announce my presence, get the coffee and then come back ready to board.

This was not the idea, according to the two ladies now doing a shift at the same kiosk. Before the 2:45 start, I had to formally book in. I had about 5 minutes to order and drink my coffee. They stuck a label to my shirt to show that I was one of the tour. I decided that, with a 2 minute walk across to the distant coffee shop it wasn't worth my while to take the chance that a coffee could be ordered and delivered in one minute.

So I stood around waiting with other bewildered folk, watching tourists like myself being turned away from the 4 pm tour without any explanation, other than, "You too late now. 6 o'clock tour next."

An information sheet posted at the kiosk would make things so much easier for all participants.