this is the th/ird fo/urth fifth time we have tried to send this. Mailasail does like to make life awkward!!

 

We think we are in Singapore, but it’s hard to tell as we can’t recognise anything that we remember from the 1970’s!  The heat and humidity are the same, but that delicious sickly sweet tropical smell that envelops you like a warm damp blanket just isn’t here.  I think it is because the storm drains, which we remember gushing with grey water with guppies swimming along, have all been banished underground where nobody can fall into them.  Sad, but that’s progress.  We managed to wheedle our way into the Cricket Club yesterday on the basis of our 1970’s (lapsed) membership, but as we were not wearing suitable footwear we were only allowed on to the outside terrace.  The same squash courts we played on are still there, and the Padang where Sandy (and you Roger) played rugby and had to pull off eachother’s sodden shirts after the game – but you can’t see the sea anymore because the land reclamation is so extensive.  We are in a cheapo (they call it boutique) hotel in the middle of Chinatown, which has been beautifully done up and managed to keep lots of its authenticity.  Currently all the city roads are cordoned off with high wire fences in preparation for the Singapore Grand Prix next weekend, and prices reflect the lavish upmarket image that Singapore now has.  Here are some lovely night-time pictures.