25.02.2006 30 °C
Its the time we spend lost in the land of dreams. Cuddled up amoungst pillows and sheets and donnas.
Its God's way of making sure your not up for morning TV informmercials with the worlds greatest skin care products, the latest Ab-fantabuliser and OZ style aerobics.
Sleep. Sleep. Sleep ...
Planes are not sleep. Staring at "The Mask of Zorro" on the back of a chair, swollowing chunks of assorted pre-cut melons, sipping on lumpy strawberry yogurt, eating Chicken and Leek pie.
Sleep is not reading Singapore newspapers over peoples shoulders, straining to see out porthole windows or playing thumbwars with yourself over and over only to lose again and again.
The little plane now on the back of the chair says we'll be landing soon. Its 5am Singapore - 28C. My body aches out for a coffee and a stretch. The crew are strapped down; it will all have to wait.
I glide through an empty terminal. Im alert, yet Im not here. I follow my instincts looking for a Stopover counter to collect my vouchers, yet now I discover I have dropped my bags.
I glance up at the Golden Arches before me. I must be tired, McDonalds smells appertising. Behind it I can see the Singapore logo; I check in, drag my bags outside into the thick air and wait.
A shuttle bus pulls up. I board. We take off into the night. Beyond is a tall skyline of bright lights reaching up. I smell saltwater and marshes as we head into its belly.
"Sweet dreams are made of these ..." Why does the radio taunt me so.
The streets are spotless and empty. A few cars are heading back and forth. One driver picks his nose and after a satisfing inspection drives off. Another contains a kid in the back seat who stares at me. I poke my tongue out as we pull away. Im ushered out. Check in is not until 7am and Im given a coffee voucher to kill the remaining voucher. Its not my coffee but within minutes I begin to get my bearings, the feeling in my limbs returns. I write, scrawing chicken strach with my borrowed airline pen to be faithfulyl repoduced online at some point (6:30pm the same night - ED) The blackness outside fades to grey, fades to a cool washed out blue. The coffee is gone as other guests begin to arrive. Its time to find my room before it wears off ...