A Changi scenery

And so it was on to Singapore, where we all got off the plane, while some very small men with a very large fuel pump loaded up the Boeing 777 for the final leg 'down to Brisbane'. I love the way pilots say that: "I have the honour of flying you down to Dubai, or down to Sydney", or wherever - as if it's just like popping "down" to the corner shop to pick up a pint of milk and the Sunday papers.

Anyway, the usual announcement ten minutes before landing in Changi airport: "It is our duty on Emirates to warn you that the possession of narcotics, of any nature, is punishable in Singapore by a very long jail term at the minimum, up to, and including, the death penalty". Yikes, does that mean a long jail term, and then the needle? No matter what, when you're a bit steamin' and you hear that, paranoia kicks in. What if someone has planted something on me? What if there's just a residue from the time I found myself at that weird party in the weird guy's flat when I was at university, and there was that guy, something Phelps I think his name was, doing bongs in the corner of the living room (which was also someone's bedroom).

Anyway, I got the all clear feeling once I got passed the guy with the gun in one hand, and the sniffer dog in the other.

Singapore's transit terminal is a sleepy place, with people who are, indeed, half asleep. Saw this small, but very loud, display from some local amateur dramatics looking people. They banged drums pretty loudly at each shop they stopped at, and generally intimidated you into buying things.

Back to the departure gate, and a bit of cold sweating as they terrifying security people (with guns and dogs) searched my back and had a few awkward questions about the copious amounts of sub-cutaneous needles I was carrying. They waved me on with a small smile, which had an edge to say: "we haven't nailed a Westerner in a while - but today appears to be your lucky day". After all, insulin can hardly be seen as illegal, right?

While I am on here, I would like to share my annoyance about airport etiquette. Why do people rush to the boarding gate when the first and business class people have been called. Everyone has an allocated seat? What is the rush? I recall that on leaving Glasgow airport, even when they had called people forward from rows 35 - 50, people from row 15 came up. They were then asked to move out the way and leave some space for the passengers who have actually just been called - but they just shuffled on their feet. Why do people behave like this in airports? Honestly, they were looking round for the nearest granny they could use when the "people who need assistance" were called forward. I see this behaviour all the time, even on the shuttle up from London. Herd mentality on the one side, with an ironic every-man-for-himself mentality on the other.

On the up side, for the first time in a long time, I got on the plane, three times on the way to Oz, and not once was there someone sitting in my seat. Now there is a first. Which reminds me of a story a very old Aussie friend of mine, Keeffe told me when he got on a plane to the UK, somewhere in Brunei, and there was a chap in his seat.

K: "Mate, you're in my seat"

Man: "No, I'm not"

K: "Listen mate, it's written there (pointing to boarding card), and it's written there (point to overhead seat numbering), now get out my fackin' seat. Do you realise that if this plane goes down and they try to identify us from the seating plan, they're gonna think that I'm you - and look at ya!!"

Inspired.