Last Day in Singapore

Waking up at noon? Yeah – it was pretty awesome.

But then came the realization that this was my final night here. And that as I went to sleep tonight it would be on an airplane over a strange sea, headed to a place I knew not where. And that? That was less settling.

I ate lunch, and then I broke out my laptop, watching World of Warcraft being played on a neighbouring computer. While one attempted to bring glory to the hoard, I tried to book final flights, and buses.

By the time I was done, almost everything had been set in motion. I was without my ticket to Buffalo, but I did have my ticket into Hawaii taken care of. It's strange how little money seems to matter when booking a flight. The first flight I saw was hundreds more than the next, which was hundreds more than the next, if I flew on a different day.

And if I kept searching for the weeks to come, I might find one for hundreds less once again. But with flights – you just kind of book them, and deal with the rest later on. You'd never do that with a meal, ohh this meal is three hundred dollars today. Oh well, whatever. But with flights?

A lot of money has gone into them over the past few months, and I wonder how much I could have saved? Conceivably I was on the winning end of some of these, and would have spent more in another reality where I waited a week or so extra to book them. All this time later, I still don't understand how flight prices work – but that's alright, as I take solace in the fact that no one really does.

As time got closer to when I had to leave, we went out for a last meal at the Indian place just behind her house (I also discovered there was a top notch BBQ ribs place there – how that went beyond my discovery until it was too late, I do not know. Imagine, right behind your house, a BBQ ribs place? what a disaster that could be!

And the meal was good. And perhaps too large with the last – warned against – bite pushing me beyond my limit. But the lime juice? It was a delicious treat I'd not known anything like since Cambodia.

Rather than waving me off as I headed towards the airport alone, I was accompanied on the bus, all the way to the airport. Never have I had a more stress free week this year. Everything we did, perfectly planned – without any desire to stray from it. Arrival? Departure? All accompanied. And it was fantastic. Even when I had to wait an hour to check in, I had someone to hang out with, and talk to – despite constant attempts to save her the hour of waiting with me. Really, I could stay on my own – but it was delightful not to need to.

Then, as I cleared through security, there was much waving, until I finally rounded the bend, and found myself alone.

In the airport, I read, and I looked – unsuccessfully – for something to spend my few remaining dollars on. The book stores also sucked up a good hour, as I looked at every title wanting to buy some, but not having the twenty bucks to grab even one of the cheapest titles there.

And then the flight was called, and on we got.

Food was eaten, and I searched through the various movies on the in-seat entertainment unit. There were a good five I wanted to watch: Lost in Translation (though I should stay away from mopey movies while flying), Memories of a Geisha (I'd been meaning to see this for ages), Planet 51 (because I like cute films), Sherlock Holmes (It looked alright – he's like a real world Batman, though not very real world.), and Avatar – because, you know, Space Marines.

Just as I was about to start watching, I'm sure, I found myself waking up with only an hour and a half of flight left.

Of course.

German Beer and Bird Parks

There is no resting. No resting in Singapore!

I can not tell you how much I look forward to tomorrow – a day of nothing. But that day is not yet come, and as for now? Well it's time to get up, be taken to the bus stop, and head on over to the Bird Park.

Singapore has one of the world's best bird parks, I am told. And as we got off the bus (not knowing it was the right stop – but since every other white person, as well as a lot of locals, were getting off there, I figured there had to be a reason) we were confronted by the sign, telling us just how wonderful the place was.

Lining up to get tickets, both were bought at once. Because of this we could only have one map. Had we bought them individually two maps would have been ours. I thought about explaining the ridiculousness of this, but then decided I just didn't care. Off into the park following the monorail path.

I have decided that I don't understand why people take the monorail. At the night zoo? Sure – it goes through places you can only see that way. But here? Here it follows the road, and it prevents you from being able to get out and stop and look at anything. Sure, you can walk the road again after, but if you do, why did you take the monorail in the first place? Perhaps their lively discussions on the PA make it all worth while? With the quality of the shows here, that wouldn't surprise me all that much, really.

Walking in, we entered the penguin exhibit. There is a lesson to be learned about allowing me near penguins, and the lesson is this – don't. Not if you expect to do anything else, get anything else done.

And when that penguin exhibit also has puffins – cute, fantastic, (not all that delicious – so guilty) puffins? Well that was just about that.

I watched them swim and hang out on the rocks for a while, before moving over to the King penguins. Watching them swim below the waters? It was a beautiful sight to see. And if it wasn't for all the Indian tourists shoving into, pushing me out of the way, children poking, and parents screaming – well I might have been able to stay there all day. But as I was not in the mood to be touched by hundreds of unknown fingers, I took it as my cue to leave.

There would be more to see.

One of the next birds that stood out to me were the marabou storks. Remembered from Africa, these are the most evil birds you'll ever see. Perhaps not really – but the way they stand, it feels like they're just waiting for death, and in such numbers, hunched over, they can be a most terrifying vision.

What I didn't understand was what was keeping the birds in the park. Were they clipped? No they flew to the top of their little area. There were no cages keeping them. Perhaps the world outside, full of heavy traffic, and urban landscapes was enough to scare them from leaving their little peace of pseudo-home, or perhaps there was something at work that I wasn't understanding. Still, it seemed as if any of the birds in this area could have left whenever they so chose.

Walking around the park took us to the African waterfall aviary where small colourful birds fluttered around under – what I'm told – is the worlds largest man-made waterfall. It was pretty big, and all sorts of people were trying to take pictures with it. How they turned out, I'm not sure, but the light was not so great.

The rain earlier in the day had cooled the place down. I can only imagine how hot this pavilion could get when the sun was really shining brightly. It must have been a painful experience, one which led to sweat dripping from all possible places, blurring eyesight, and just causing overall discomfort.

As it was, cooled down, the sweat just caused discomfort.

Outside was an exhibit titled “descendants from dinosaurs.” And while I do love me some dinosaurs, I'm not sure that they should have titled it as such. There wasn't anything making connections. Now, sure, when I see an Emu I think of dinosaurs, but without putting any signage up or explanations would your regular visitor think the same? It didn't matter. There were two cassowaries. And watching them, as always, was enough for me.

This year has shown me a number of these birds, and they never cease to impress – colourful and deadly as they are.

From there we entered an area full of toucans, and hornbills, and other birds with strangely overgrown beaks, that – when studied for a short time – stop making sense. I understand why they developed them – I just don't understand how. Tell me evolution – how did a bird go from small tiny beak to that huge one? How many thousands of years did it take for that to evolve? And why did it stop evolving? Why do we see few signs of further evolution these days, when there must have been so much in the years past?

It's said that evolution happens to allow animals to fit a new habitat, well it's also said that we're destroying habitats, and killing animals, and ruining the world, and all that other fear-mongering stuff that really means nothing (the planet will be fine, animals have been going extinct for millions of years, no one species is going to matter at all in the grand scheme. I mean – honestly – it's like being concerned that certain types of dinosaurs went extinct before others. Or that sea life went extinct. You ask me – all these giant monster things that no longer exist? That's a pretty good thing for us. So extinction – think of it more as your friend.

Unless the animal is cute, then by all means donate all your money. But you don't see many people trying to save ugly animals (you know – like people. Sure we give millions to seals, and monkeys, and what not – but social programs? M'eh. “They should have made better choices for themselves,” and thinking like that. Well – the monkey shouldn't have lived so close to the city, it should have moved away, where it could be happy. “But the monkey either couldn't find territory away, or didn't know how to live there, the change was too big for it.” Yes – yes, and that's the same with most people in need of social programs. But that's another rant, and has little place here.

Monkeys. They're not cute. They're evil. Steal your handbag they will, just as soon as play an accordion for spare change. Or a grinder.

And speaking of cute things that are probably evil, we headed into the Lorrie pavilion where you could buy food and have these birds cover you, eating from you. I did not choose to do this. But, once again, I was reminded of the pigeons covering people in Italy. They were loving it, just as much as the people here were. And what was different about the two types of birds, save for one being grey, and these ones being reds, and blues?

Birds – so many birds – we saw. Flamingos to – which seemed far too pink, to be believed. How many shrimp were they eating? As it turned out they were fed pellets to keep them that colour. But once again, I have to question – how/why did something evolve to change colour with its food? And do any other species of anything do this? If birds did evolve from dinosaurs, could there have been pink baby T-rexes? I'd like to think so. Apparently some people believe they may have had feathers, so why not?

We watched the two shows. One had a costumed buzzard, and parrots flying through hoops (ooh – the parrot section. There are so many types, and most are neat colours – but the one that looks like a super kid ice cream cone? Blue, red and yellow? I know I've seen them in movies, but seeing them and understanding that these are real animals – that they live, and exist, and – it's amazing.

O.K. I know I just railed about saving the pretty animals, and how that shouldn't matter, and extinction is nothing to really worry about – but, how amazing would it be to see these things flying in the wild? Maybe we should do something. And as it's not us, but the good people of South America who would need t make all the sacrifices, and do the work, it's very easy for me to just say – yes, fix this problem, and then wash my hands of it.

Still – beautiful.

The second show was a birds of prey one. And watching the animals attack toys on the ground to simulate snakes, and rabbits, and seeing them claw for pieces of meat? Well it would have been impressive anyway, but having just read about all of these in Vlad? It added another layer to the experience. I'm all about added layers. Especially on cake. Good cake, though, not bad cake. And good cake I had as well, as the super Chocolate cake shop in the mall, during the public transit transfer at the mall. Actually I think it was more just soft delicious chocolate with sweet cream on it. I'm not sure – they called it cake, and it was magical. I'm sure much better for those who really like chocolate, but there were no complaints from me.

The ice cream was far too rich. Again – if you liked Chocolate, I'm sure it could have been the best ice cream ever, but I like my ice cream to be refreshing. Calpis flavour, if you will.

And the day wasn't done yet. There would be no going home, ever. No escape. No rest. No – after this, we had to head out for good beer and sausage. I know, I know, it's a hard peril-filled life I lead. How do I manage?

The beer – it was micro brewed in the restaurant. This doesn't mean it's going to be great – but lord, was it great. Just like in the German beer hall – you had your two choices, light or dark. I always go with dark. And the food?

I can not say enough wonderful things about the food. Not since Poland and Germany has my tummy had such a happy time. Sure, I love asian food, and given the chance I'll eat it back home – but that's because I never knew real “white person food.” I'm from Canada – we have no culture, and definitely no food culture (ok, I'm from southern Ontario – the rest of Canada gets food and culture, we get kraft dinner with bits of hot dogs cut up in it.) But this – ten sausages, small though they may be, it was still plentiful, mashed potatoes, fantastic sauerkraut, (why do I feel like I've written about sauerkraut lately?) and as much mustard as I wanted.

This was the meal of meals. One of the best I've had this whole trip. Enough to bring a tear to my eye thinking back on it now.

Ahh.

And with that final memory we headed back home for a last sleep. I packed my bag, then vowed to stay up until five am doing nothing, for I could sleep in the next morning.

At 4:45, I finally drifted off to sleep.

Sentosa!

Once more, up early. Always up early – always to sleep late. Now sure that late sleep is my fault, but still – being up and ready to go at 9am, that's too much after twelve hours under the sun. The air conditioner can only do so much.

Today should be different though. There should not be all that much going on – we're just headed out to the lovely island of Sentosa. It's cute that little Singapore has even smaller islands which once can head on over to. Sentosa is the most popular of them all. What's the least popular? Probably the military island. It's not even on the maps that you grab around here. The other tiny islands are on the map, but military island? Nothing.

All men need to serve two years in the national defense forces. And it's strange to look around and think that they all have that training. I've mentioned this before, and when wandering around I mostly forget this fact. But how does that service colour their experience? The way they see the world? The way they see each other?

Ironically if the men were ever called back to serve, they'd be under female officers, who join by choice and often stay on.

But again, we were not headed to this Battle Royale-(I can only assume)-esque island, we were headed to Sentosa(!) and with a myterious VIP card that was obtained some how we speak not of, it was free. All free! Entrance and transportation to the island? Free. Access to the fort? Free. Checking out the Merlion? Free. The night show? Free. Sky Tower access? Well free, but it was sadly closed. But there would have been no time for it anyway.

And today was supposed to be a quick day.

Heading out to Sentosa required, first, passing through another bookstore. And some toy stores. These never work out for me. But, I noticed I still had money. I wasn't spending any, how could I not still have money in my pockets? And toys, well, they're interesting. I saw one on the shelf, but didn't purchase it. I wanted to – but it just didn't work out. I considered, rather than the awesomeness of it, the space it would take up in my pack.

This would haunt me all day. Well – not really – but I would think back to it now and then.

Over on Sentosa our first order of business was to secure tickets to the show. It would not be for eight more hours, but the pamphlet said to get your tickets early to avoid disappointment. Disappointment was the thing I wanted! So, tickets secured, it was time to see the beach.

A free tram (once you pay to get onto the island) took us down to a stop that was listed as the Southernmost part of Continental Asia. I don't know why it feels it can make this claim, as Singapore is an island, and this is an island on an island, and Indonesia is far more south. But the sign says so and how can I possibly argue with that? Especially since it allows me the opportunity to claim that I've been to the southern most part of Asia, Africa, and South America. I'm not sure that any of those claims are accurate – though I think Africa would have been closest to the truth.

A few people were swimming, and playing with floating beach balls, and running in and out of the water. I was more engaged with trying to figure out how to get my camera to accurately record the greens and blues that I was seeing with my eyes. It was not as easy as I felt it should have been.

After climbing the tower settled at South Point and taking a few shots here and there, it was down the tower and off to the East beach.

The east beach? Despite everyone going to it – staying on the tram, leading me to follow them – is like the South Beach, with one difference: It's covered in earth movers, and other big trucks that want to run you over and crush you. This was not a safe place to be. Teachers walked by with their high school students from the American International school in tow. Going to the beach as a class trip? A terrible idea for so many reasons. Success that we live in Canada where dealing with beach weather during the school year will never be an issue. No one will create a yearly annual trip to collect shells or anything like that. Ahh pretend work on field trips. The trick every teacher employees that's so obvious in retrospect, but never gets found out by students. Mind you, I guess we've conditioned them to accepting ridiculous busy work as just par for the course (note that I'm thinking of myself as a teacher once more. What does that mean?)

Leaving the beach of doom, we headed down to the fort. Fort Siloso, if memory serves. It was once a British fort, and then a Japanese fort (oops) and now it's a Singaporean tourist attraction fort.

Created when the Brits came in to help build up the Singapore people the fort served during World War II to keep the angry Japanese away. There would be no adding Singapore to their new Asian Empire. Nothing could get through the defenses facing out to sea.

Oops. The thing that they forgot was that the Japanese military was a little bit crazy. Far more willing to deal with terrible conditions than the Brits themselves were willing to deal with. Marching, and cutting their way through, two hundred miles of jungle they were able to approach Singapore by land. The island guns then faced inwards, but under constant arial attack, and without any reinforcements the battle was decisive and final.

Walking through the fort today, Valentines day is depicted, also Chinese New Year, and finally the day Singapore fell. The surrender chambers feature models of all the key players signing the surrender. A video explains how the Japanese demanded an unconditional surrender of the British forces. Why anyone would surrender to the Japanese is beyond me. By this point in the war, people must have known that they were not going to let you live. They made the Germans look like pussy cats. A white flag means you're no longer human – you have no honour. And many officers lost their heads in the coming days.

As for Singapore, a history of the occupation in an adjacent room, detailed the horrors that they faced, being forced to wear stamps on their clothing, keeping them unwashed to avoid ruining the ink, else they be classified as undesirables and be marched away never to be seen again. Torture, senseless murder, and slaughter of the Chinese. It was the Japanese way, and it hit Singapore hard.

Not until the far-too-delayed surrender of Japan after the dropping of the nuclear bombs was Singapore released... one month after the Japanese surrender.

The people? Not very happy about how the British acted towards them in their time of need. There was no going back to the way things were, and the seeds of independence starting to grow.

It's hard to picture the horrors in Singapore, an island that is – today – so different than what it once was. And it's hard to picture the Japanese as the monsters. So much has changed in so little time. But old wounds are hard to heal. Still – the modern generations, either forgetting, ignoring, or being unaware of, the sins of their father are helping to merge cultures once more. They forgive because they must.

After leaving the fort behind we headed off to see the Merlion. The Merlion is a giant building shaped as this kinda-sorta mythical creature. Walking in we were subjected to images of horror movies, and creatures of the deep, all leading towards a room that showed a film that explained the story of the Merlion.

You might think that the Merlion is the product of some sailors story... wait – did I properl describe the Merlion? Half fish, half lion? Yeah. So – you may think it is a sailors tale, or the product of some Lovecraftian indunced madness, but no nothing quite so magestic. The tale of the Merlion is this – when Singapore was discovered, the founder was met by a lion who, after whom the island as named. Never mind that lions have never lived in Singapore, we just have to accept this part. What happened next is only based on my conjecture.

The good people of Singapore decided that they needed a new country mascot (this part is true) and they set about to create it. Entering their secret lair, they set to work trying to choose the best possible creature. A gryphon? one might have said, using the lion as a starting point. A sea serpent! another would have shouted. But no, these were all just bad ideas leading to nowhere. At this point they all pulled out their little altoids cases, rolled up something green, and started to smoke.

The next few hours were passed with 'brilliant ideas', laughing, and a phone call to a builder, for something they couldn't really recall. But it must have been funny as there were random pictures are cartoons everywhere, and writing on one of the guys faces.

It wasn't until they walked out of the building, seeing the rushed product – the Merlion - built. Apparently, the contractor said, they had called up and asked for a giant statue you could walk inside that had the HEAD of a lion, because of the original lion, and the BODY of a fish, cause like, the harbour is important and stuff.

It was at that moment that the Singapore people realized the err of their drug addled ways, and came up with the countries new slogan – to be written on all official documents: DEATH to drug traffickers!

I'm pretty sure that's how it went, anyway. It's the only thing that makes sense.

After wandering inside the creature's mouth, looking out, fighting the urge to say Cal-li-for-ni-a we headed down and out to the show.

The show about Oscar. An evil evil fish who wants to bring nothing but darkness to the planet.

Mind you, that's just my interpritation.

I think children were supposed to take the following away from it:
a few teenagers have fun at the beach singing and dancing and playing guitar. One of them sings, and a princess appears in the sky (projected on a sheet of water, in front of a traditional stilts supported fishing village) and he falls in love.

Oscar the fish appears floating with his sea dragon, and squid friends. Oscar tells him to sing and wake her up, and along the way he restores the power of the spirit of fire, water, and light.

The princess wakes at the end, and smiles.

All is well.

But no – that's not what's really going on. I am no small child wiling to just accept what is beng spoon fed to me. I question, I think, and i fear. I fear Oscar the fish.

Yes the kids were at the beach singing, yes a girl appeared, but then Oscar came, far too quickly – and was accepted by all. A princess in the sky? Fine – we can accept that – but a giant talking fish? That really is too much, but no one questions him. Oscar has put a spell on these people, as he has his two friends (more on that to come.)

Oscar says the guy needs to sing. The next time he does, an ancient evil awakes. A molton rock monster. He tells the guy to sing more and restore power. (I think the boys name is Lee – lets go with that) Lee sings and restores the power. The monster then causes fire to erupt from the village, and shoot out of the ground.

Oscar congratulates Lee and sets the next stage in motion, where Lee meets the Light spirit. Once more a creepy floating power demands Lee sing to restore the power, but Lee says, look I just want to save the princess, maybe I'll just go to the village and see if she's there?

Oscar steps in. “No, you don't want to go to the village. You might get trapped by the spell on their... their... well.” Ahh yes, the magic cursed well in 2010. For this takes place in modern times. While Oscar was clearly reaching here, Lee does not question it, I believe due to the glamour Oscar has cast.

Lee sings and restore the light being's power. Lasers are shot out at the village.

Next Lee powers up the water monster, who causes great waves to crash down, and soak the village.

Finally the princess is seen and Lee sings, waking her. She smiles and quickly disappears Then everyone sings about how “Lee did it!” But the friends of Oscar have no memory of this, claiming - “who did it? Who did what?” This seems odd as they encouraged him the whole way. No longer needed, Oscar released his hold on them, and went off.

No there are two ways to see the end. I saw it as Oscar waking the Princess, where once she was safe – though in stasis – she is now free, but in the dark, alone, and soon to die of starvation, suffocation, or fear. Another way to see it – as my faithful companion did, the princess powered up her generals – Oscar acting as herald as they slumbered. Now the forces of dark are ready to rule once more.

Look – all I'm saying, is if your first singing cause a fire being to blow up a village? You should probably rethink your actions.

Seriously – what a bad day for the inhabitants of that town.

Leaving the park we made our way to the mall to catch the train. This time my wacky sized head plush venom was purchased. And all was right in the world. Except for Oscar, who distresses me still.

The Botanical Gardens of Singapore

I tell you what – I'm starting to like pulp. Time was that I wasn't very keen on it. Time was, I wasn't very keen on Orange juice, but all that changed in Europe where I was bombarded with it – orange juice and hot chocolate, it was the perfect way to start every day. But pulp – I still wasn't a fan of pulp.

Now, you ask me why – I tell you, it gets stuck in the mustache. That's just how life works. But since I've trimmed it a bit shorter in spots, that's not much of an issue. And ever since having the jelly drink in Japan, I've started to come around to drinks that you need to chew. Like bubble tea – but different.

Now, the last few places I've been, have had juice full of pulp – super pulp – a mouthful of pulp in every gulp. And I've decided that I love it. There, I've said it. Moving on.

But not really moving on, because Apple juice, it too is good. But only Minute Maid in bottles nice and cold, the way you can get them – over priced – at the TTC stations in Toronto. The only other place I've found them (and believe me, I've looked) is in a vending machine at costco. Not in costco, but in the parking lot. One day I will roll up with a big box and feed loonie after loonie (I almost forgot about that coin – strange) into the machine and start pulling drinks and boxing them myself. On the plus side, you don't even need a membership card for this.

Why is there not an easier way?

But I can distract myself no longer. For at some point, one needs to embrace their fear. And here is mine – outside. In this part of the world. You see, inside is so nice and cool – even without the aircon, there's still a fan – but outside? Outside there is heat and humidity and other things that want to destroy your life! Like – you know – more heat. Or bears. I hear there are bears outside too.

Our first stop was the Thai embassy where they were having a firesale, ok – ok – that's probably bad wording at this point in time. They were having a wonderful sale on lots of jewelry and food and other Thai related things. It seemed strange in contrast to the country where Bangkok seems to be falling more and more apart by the day.

We only stopped there as that was where the bus happened to let us off, and after seeing the front page of the paper – plumes of smoke shooting up through one of Asia's largest malls, I couldn't help but have Thailand on my mind. Our true stop for the day was the Singapore Botanical Gardens.

This is a place that, no doubt, my father would love. He'd have walked in, not thinking about the sweat the rolled so freely from my forehead, back, and just about every other place where pores can roll sweat from. No – my father would have walked in and started talking ab out how it was still too cold, or how it was a nice winters day in Florida, or something nonsensical like that. Never you mind that it felt like 45, for him – it can never be hot enough. For me? A big part of me just wanted to run through the gardens and be done with it, say I'd seen it, and escape to some place more conditioned with cool air, and with all the cooling coils one can find to remove the humidity.

There was a lovely lake, full of swans, and giant swan statues if the birds themselves didn't feel like making an appearance. Little teacup humans walked around it, with their teacher in tow, trying to make sure none were lost. I thought it might be a fun game to pick them up and splash them into the pond as if they were bicycles left on the Amsterdam streets after the bars all closed down. I felt secure in the fact that the teachers would leave me alone, as I ran to avoid the coming Singaporean punishment, as they would be focused on saving the wee ones. They would be, right?

But no – there was no injustice done today, and screaming the tiny near-people simply walked by. Unaware of how close they were to peril.

Through the botanical gardens one comes to the Ginger Gardens, and let me tell you – I love ginger. I do. It is fantastic. I never appreciated it before Asia, but I have learned the error of my ways, and may I be forgiven for not understanding the power of the root until now. Also, bananas and ginger are related somehow? I don't know – the sign seemed to think so.

Past the ginger gardens, though, is what you really came to see. The Singapore Orchid Gardens. Where for 5 SingDollars you can walk amongst some of the most delightful and fragrant flowers you've ever seen. You know – if you're into that stuff. Once more, I picture my father not simply walking around thinking – neat there's a red one! - but, instead knowing what it was, how to grow it, and all sorts of other things for which I can't even conceive of the questions.

Still – just saying, there's a purple one, there's a red one, there's a yellow one – that's entertaining in its own right – especially for those overhearing who seem to know more than I did.

There were some flows, an unnatural coloured orange that reminded me strangely of my childhood. But before I could think too much on that, there were plants with giant leaves. And I mean giant – bigger than me. The type that people in Egyptian movies use to fan their leaders. Why the leaves had to be that big, I did not know – but they were impressive. Once more it dawns on me that Singapore (a.) is not China, and b.) is a tropical country.)

At one point we entered a cool house – which, while not a concert venue neat a mis-spelled government, was still highly desired. For a few seconds, standing next to a waterfall, I was at peace with the world around me. More to the point, my back wasn't sweating where my pack connected with it. Such are the choices on a hot day – wear the backpack and sweat through my shirt, or don't wear it on both shoulders and hurt one shoulder – oh the damage I've done by keeping this pack on me all these months.

Back out in the sun we continued to make our way through the flowers before finally heading out, and moving through a gift shop where everything you could think of was covered in the slogan “Singapore in a FINE country,” with pictures of all the things that you will be fined for.

Seriously – who makes chewing gum illegal? One thousand dollar fine. Ai ya.

From there we went to the mall. Hours were spent in a bookstore, well maybe just two. I discovered the following:

I want to read Metro 2033. There's a book called Gone that might be good, or might be terrible young adult garbage (I will need to research this some more.) There is a book called The Hunger Games which seems to be a total rip off of Battle Royale, the manga – which is based on the novel – which is good. The Hunger Games, with a title like that, and your choice or either male or female cover, I can only assume is a terrible terrible rip off. I'd like to research this some more too and discover how similar it is. A Lion Among Men is the third book in the “Wicked” series – and while some of me wants to read it, I keep reminding myself how terrible Wicked was as a novel (musical, amazing – novel poorly written. I am sure the author changed gears half way through writing it and then just said, screw it – I'm not rewriting the beginning, explaining all the disconnects.) And the second book, Son of a Witch, as garbage too. So this one? I hold out no hopes.

It also seems I have a note reading Brave Story. Ah yes, I think that's a Japanese novel? It had a neat cover and interesting back cover write-up. Once more, research is required.

Lunch? Okonomiyaki. Well Hiroshima Yaki to be truthful. I thought I would never have it again. And while not as good as the one outside of Tokyo, still delicious.

With some delicious bubble tea (I need to learn how to cook the pearls at home) we headed for the bus, and returned home. I watched a WoW raid (intense crazy wacky stuff) and talked to the guild leader – who, is a buddy of mine from back home. This is how I got to know my current host.

She came to Canada to visit him, and he came up to my family cottage. She came with him. Thus we got to know each other. And one year later, here I am visiting her. Who could have possibly foreseen that turn of events?

I also played some Zelda Spirit Tracks (too hard, I hate it. Curse you Zelda!) and The World Ends With You. My favourite DS game of all time. Sigh, it's so pretty. I wish I could have found an art book for it in Japan, but no.

And that – is - that.

Food is So [stress this word] Good

Starting out at nine forty five, I had just had four sausages, two slices of bread, and chicken curry shoved down my throat.

O.K. maybe that's the wrong word. Maybe in reality I loved every bite of it – but my lord, what large breakfasts. I would later learn that these breakfasts were so huge because they were made by the mother of the girl with whom I was staying. Now, said mother had travelled to Canada once, to see the Rockie Mountains. There – the meals and portions were gigantic. As is the Albertan way. But not all Canadians eat alike, especially those used to one meal a day on a travellers budget.

Still – who am I to refuse such tasty treats?

With belly full we headed out to the centre of town, or of the city, or rather of the country – it's all really the same here in Singapore (which s a concept that is still taking some getting used to by me.)

To get there we had to travel on a mystical moon car. Not all that unlike the tram from the beginning of Half-life. On a circular track this one cared tram rolls up, driverless, stops for a moment, and wait for you to get in before heading off. The next few stops may exist, but the doors do not open. Apparently not enough people live in the surrounding areas to make running these stops worthwhile.

This makes no sense to me, as it already stops, there is no driver, and no staff are required to run the station. But it's best not to question things, because this is Singapore, and I can only imagine that questioning things leads to caning. I really hope that is the spelling for hitting someone with a cane, and not what one does to tuna products before they hit the store shelves.

I had already risked enough by daring to chew a piece of gum, smuggled in unknowingly, forgotten deep within my pack.

When the space-mobile came to a stop, we hopped on the subway where I proceeded to ask all number of questions about Chinese writing. My desire to learn to read and write has only grown, the more I pick up along the way. Today I learned “please”, “do not”, and “heart,” with when combined with “little” means beware. Oh, I also learned gap. Indeed I did learn these characters from reading the “mind the gap” translation and trying to figure out what they were all about.

When we'd finished our journey, we met my host's sister and brother-in-law. They would be showing us around today. Our first order of business? Eating. Chinese spring rolls were first on the menu. The stall we went to, a man was making the wrappers in front of us. With a ball of dough in his hands, he rubbed it ever so lightly on a hot plate, causing some to slide off, and with a spin become a perfect circle. I'd never seen this done, and while it looked so easy I knew that such a thing must have taken years of work to perfect.

I learned from the sister that this was the case. Full of hubris she once attempted it. Delightful and delicious spring rolls did not follow, until the purchased wrappers from a store nearby.

After this we made our way to our next stop – chicken and rice. This is a Singaporean dish, I was told. The dish. And what a treat it was. Though serving anything with rice and ginger these days is enough to excite me. When you throw some hot chili peppers into the mix, it only gets better.

Both attempts I failed in an effort to try and pay, first being told to hold a table while food was ordered, and second – I don't recall why the second time. Normally I am quite willing to accept any and all gifts, but for some reason I have tried hard these last two days to throw money down wherever I may. And it has been tricky, as the people I'm with now, like many of those I've met up with before, are so generous. Once more it strikes me that when people start knocking on my door over the coming years, there will be plenty of karma to pass on in turn.

Now with the chicken in us, we walked the China town, which in Chinese does not read anything like China Town, but rather something to do with water. Which makes trying to translate very confusing for a novice like me.

China town offered glimpses of many colourful temples, and decorative sculptures. For some time we wandered the streets taking everything in, looking in mosques, and popping our heads in some of the old Chinese religious buildings which have been so perfectly preserved while the city has grown up around them.

I had a tinge of tourists guilt, realizing that so much of the world will never be as it once was. When I thought of Singapore I thought of traditional looking south east asian villages, and – and I don't know. And for a moment I thought, maybe there are more remote villages where this still exists. But there are no remote villages. The city is the country (still – hard to wrap my mind around that concept.) The world changes and never goes back. Still – so much kept as it once was is a welcomed sight.

As if to juxtapose my thoughts on the past we headed into the Urban Planning building where 1:400 models of the country are displayed, showing concepts of the new buildings ready to be constructed, and offering a glimpse of how the land reclamation is scheduled to progress. With so many thoughts of expansion, and so little land, Singapore is taking back from the ocean. Never mind that with so many countries in this area, any expanse into the water cuts into other peoples water claims. They'll always be the underdog. Look how small they are. Let them do their thing.

And remember, every many aged 22 and over is on active recall alert for the military. Sure there may only be four million people living here, but that's still a military of over one million in a small staging area. Don't make them do to you what they do to drug traffickers. “Death to Drug Traffickers!” It really should be their motto.

After the planning building we walked little India, where shops sold everything you could think of for S.E.A. prices, which is strange where everything else here is closer to western prices.

Stopping in at a mall, looking around a comic shop there, we then made our way for cake. I also enjoyed a root beer float. Just like if I was in the nineteen fifties – or a human on starbase deep space nine. “It's so – happy.”

This time i was able to make my way to the cash first and pay for our cakes and drinks! Success. I would fail at opening my wallet at every other junction. It's hard to know when to make the offer, when to force the offer, and when it seems disrespectful of the people trying to do something for you. I'm quite bad at this game.

From the mall we attempted to make our way to the rooftop garden. No one knew what we were talking about, but as we were leaving in defeat, I found a touch screen information centre that at least proved its existence, though we still failed to actually set eyes upon it outside of these digitalized images. I first learned of it, as the bathroom told me of it. The bathroom told me many things. Like how this was the first eco mall, and how extra coils in the cooling system cut down on humidity.

From there we went to dinner at an Indian place. The Banana Leaf where all your food was on a banana leaf. It looked like so little when it was first brought out to us – but then it was an insurmountable portion. Try as we all did (except the girls whom I feel could have tried a bit harder – though they still gave it a good show) we failed in our mission. Well, in my mission – they seemed fine with being unable to finish it. Crazy, I know.

Delicious, it was. And with bellies full, we made our way back to the train, then the moon car, and then to the air conditioned home.

Ten cans of Singapore only soda may have followed me. But more on them later, I”m sure.

As I got off the moon car I saw a sign reading “No Durian!” And I couldn't agree more. But that too is a story for another day.

The Night Zoo

My first full day in Singapore – and I was faced with a rough taskmaster making me wake up, and step outside into the hot hot heat, and walk around. Can you believe that? I had to go outside and walk around!

Alright – maybe my taskmaster wasn't so rough, letting me sleep until 9 (which became ten, when my alarm was 'gently moved across the room into silence.') I am clearly not good after a flight. But then I was awake and having food thrown at me – ham and... ham – and other delicious treats. And more juice than I knew what to do with. Oh it was delicious. A big filling breakfast. Such are the things that dreams are made of.

And then – once filled to pop – I was marched outside. Where the wave of heat, crashing against the air conditioned interior hit like a blow to the belly.

We headed out to the bus stop and made our way to a place that, in my mind, is called Ang Mok. In reality? Who knows. There was cheap food there – cheap grape bubble tea (huzzah!) and cheap things to buy. And also a big theater. Who knew that Shrek 3 was close to coming out? I should watch the second one. The Christmas special (specifically the Gingerbread Man's tale – amazing.)

After a quick wander around, we headed back to the bus stop and made our way to – the zoo.

Zoos. They need to have something going for them for me to care these days. They have to be breeding grounds for Japanese zombies, with terrifying monster houses – or else really step up. And while no zoo save for the Izu Biopark could ever live up to my expectations I really didn't know what to expect.

The Singapore zoo – there I was, walking through the gate, and looking left, looking right – then was given a map. OH MY GAWD! LION FEEDING TIME!

With newfound enthusiasm, despite the heat that my Canadian body was not prepared for, I started hopping and running towards the encosure. Only ten minutes left! Only five minutes! Hurry, hurry, hurry! I do feel bad for Xinly who probably expected little more than a stroll around to see the animals. But I had reverted to hyperactive six year old.

But then, but then, but theeeen, oh em gee! But theeeen they fed the lions!

Andtheydiditbytakingthemeatandthrowingitandonetimetheythrewitandtheeeeeeen! Andthenthemeathitthelionrightonthebackandthelionlookedatthemeatandthemeatwasscaredandtheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen! THELIONATEITITATETHEMEAT!

I was excited, let us just leave it at that. Sure I'd seen lions eating – heck I saw a lion shove its head in a cow belly – but this, it was mostly the same. You see, the thing about the Singapore zoo is that it doesn't feel as if the animals are in cages. Don't worry – they are – but you can't really tell. It's designed so well that there are no bars, no concrete walls, nothing making it obvious that you're in a zoo.

You could take pictures here and fully lie your way through a tale of how you saw these creates in the wild. No one would know better.

And there were monkeys! Lots of monkeys, and there were giraffes, and there were elephants – there's always another elephant – and the thing is, you're wondering perhaps what keeps them in their pens? It's water. They have streams in front of the pens. Most of these animals will not cross the water. The monkeys won't, that's for sure. As for the other animals? Well I don't know how or why it works. The leopards are behind glass – that's probably for the best – they're one of the few. They're excellent climbers and, I imagine, would like nothing more than to get out and eat you. So it's best they're behind the glass.

Even that pen doesn't look like one though, as the walls to these enclosures are all blocked by natural jungle, plants which grow freely in this tropical environment. At any moment, it seems the animals could back their way through the foliage and disappear completely.

After wandering through some of the areas, I was overcome with another childish fit. There was a “surf and splash(!!!) show,” and while it was not going to start until two thirty, I made sure we wandered by it earlier. At two o'clock the seats were already mostly full – curse those little bratty school kids out for a good time, gleefully checking off all the animals they saw in their guide book (I wish I had that checklist picture book.) One by one the animals entered the glass-walled tank.

First were the penguins – African black-footed penguins – so many of them zipping below the water's surface. And while I'd been told that they swam as if flying, I'd never been able to see the behaviour before, only really seeing them proposing towards the shore, trying to escape becoming the lunch of a leopard seal.

Next were the manatees – I'd not seen these creatures for over a decade and a half, when they used to populate the rivers in Florida, most ending up scared by the boat propeller blades.

And the the the various other birds took position.

At two thirty we were ready for the show to begin. Penguins swam, and did tricks (for some reason I don't feel bad for water animals when they perform – not in the same way as when bears dance, or elephants walk on their hind legs – still, these looked like well treated animals, not the sad angry ones of Thailand.)

There was also a seal. A wonderful, playful, who knows how they trained it seal. But the best part of the show? It wasn't the animals – and at an animal show, you'd think they'd be the stars, it was the staff. These people knew their cues, and they delivered. Facial expressions and body language communicated so much, and as jokes – jokes that seemed spontaneous despite repetition three times a day – flew you were captured and fully taken in by these workers.

The show was top notch, and something which really ought to have cost money is the real world. The forty five minutes of animal/human comedy was worth every moment spent sitting there. Even if it meant sitting around many a screaming school child. Actually, I felt rather at home there. “Is everyone having fun,” the staff asked. “YEAH!” Sure the kids yelled it, but I drown them out without effort.

And then it was over – back to the zoo, the heat, the animals.

Tigers. Tigers are the one animal that still really impress me. I said it back in Bangkok, and I say it again now. Having never seen a tiger in the wild, they are still quite impressive creatures to see in any way shape or form. And watching three wander, or relax on rocky outcroppings? Fantastic. Looking at the marks on the ground I learned that they can leap ten meters. This, of course, explains how one escaped years back.

Wandering the whole park, stopping off in the Australia area, to visit my good near-dinosaur buddy the cassowary, we finally had to make our way out of the park. It was five thirty, and the park closed at six. For the next hour and a half we hung around the KFC eating chicken, and enjoying air conditioning. There we stayed until seven – when the Nigh Safari opened.

The Night Safari? What is that, one wonders. Well – I shall tell you. It is a night zoo. It is very literally a night zoo. Picture a zoo. Picture the night. Amazing.

Every child wanted to wander the zoo, watching the animals do strange night time things that they constantly refuse to do during the day. It is here, at the Night Safari that this dream comes to reality.

The paths are lit, some by torches, and others by lamps set to emulate the light of the moon. different paths through the darkness take you on a journey to see the night time animals. There were three highlights, though the entire experience was one to be reveled in. I saw a pangolin – which had become my favourite animal since seeing one in a picture months ago. If ever there was to be an animal that best resembled a pokemon in real life it would be the pangolin. Look up a picture of Sandshrew, and there it is. Then, look up Sandshrews level 22 evolution, Sandslash – and this is what the pangolin becomes when angry. A spiky beast ready to destroy all those around it! Or maybe not.

I learned that the pangolin was once indigenous to Singapore – and yet, now – it is mostly removed from this country due to the building up of new urban areas, “you bastards.”

When the rain started I didn't care – I was in a zoo. At night. The novelty was something that would not soon wear off. When I came to the leopards, the rain worked to send them seeking shelter, sitting right up against the glass. With my face, no more than an inch from the leopards, I could have sat there all night. Strange how bold half an inch of barrier makes one. Without that half inch, were I one hundred meters away, fear still would have overtaken me.

And yet here – all I could think about was how beautiful the animals were.

The third highlight? The mangrove trail. Fruit bats and flying foxes fly freely as you walk beneath the trees. The small bats dart past your heads, while the powerful bass of the larger animals creates vibrations in the air as they flap past. Large, and wondrous, the animals are harmless unless provoked. I did not provoke them.

Before we left the park, we made our way to the animals of the night show – and watching half an hour of “animal planet: world's funniest animals” in line for said show we were let in. Once more the staff were the true performers, while the animals worked as beautiful glue to keep everything going smooth.

Some of the training was shown, as well as a strong recycling message (where otters sorted garbage for us to watch.) At one point the staff came out to the audience in a mock show of having lost something. A five meter python, it seemed, had been stored in a box right below my feet the entire show to that point.

The zoo at night. Why only in Singapore has this been made a reality? Truly it is a beautiful and unique park. And, all things being equal, a real to come all the way out here in its own right.

The World Below

Below me spots of light dapple, like stars unseen above, the darkness of what I can only assume in Singapore. Ribbons of light reach through the expanse of black below, like phosphorescent rivers on an undiscovered alien planet. Red flashes, from the wing tip through my small porthole, a view of a new world, are muted by the steel on which they are mounted. Ships, lacking all sense of colour and definition, save for the warm glow reflecting upon their sails by lights within seem to move in silence, along the beaches turned orange by the lit filaments within glass bulbs below.

A grid of brilliant appears below me, the shores recently past over, yet nearly forgotten in the constant surge forward into the unexplored. With night fallen the ground looks more like an on going game played on grid paper where each play may choose to draw on line. When a box is formed, they mark their initial within. One by one a new light appears, cold – bright white – an urban centre, not soft and welcoming like that which came before, save for the fiery glow of two near the perceived horizon. I wonder a bout them, unable to discern anything fro high above, with details lacking.

Soon they too are behind me.

A new country, a new city, a new place to seek out and explore. And I am not worried. There is no fear of transition. Everything is as it should be. Strange that I should leave a country one day, and arrive in another on the very same. While it has happened before, it has been rare and even then the worries of finding my way from the perceived no man's land to what will be my new home has always weighed upon here.

But here, now, I will be met within the airport – at the baggage collection belt of all places – by she who will be my host for the week. Once, I showed her hospitality in Northern Ontario (or what we from Toronto like to call the North, it being far south of most of our country, and some of America as well. When I began travelling I had no intention of coming to this country – but when the offer was put forward, well how could I refuse?

I have had my fears of setting foot on this soil – and the landing card has done nothing to ease those feelings. Drug Traffickers will be EXECUTED by Singapore law. Now, I am not a drug trafficker – why any who dare risk entering this country is beyond me – but there are other such laws. Ones about spitting, about gum chewing, I hear contradicting rumours of, and who knows what else.

And there in lies the fear – who knows what else. What laws might be broken without even being aware of them existing? Ignorance, as they say, is no excuse. Some I have met have had little problem here – others have been arrested for short periods of time. I look forward to having no problems, nor do I expect any. Still – there is the unknown.

But I will have my host to guide me through these perils. And as we gain slightly in elevation, brining to view the stars above, a perfect match for those below, I have no thoughts of anything but that which is to come. Something new, something beautiful, and something to be appreciated free of fear and doubt.

Touching down it became obvious that the lights I looked down upon in my own Peter Pan-esque way could not have been Singapore, not that long ago for a country as small as this. But what land, between China, and here, it was, I do not know.

Customs was quick and painless (running ahead of all the sick, young and old, to the front of the line will do that. Having the man working your line move to deal with a woman whose card wouldn't scan, thus putting up a closed sign causing a few people in front of you to leave – but not you as you held out hope – only to have him come back a minute later, also helps.

As I grabbed my bag, and wandered across into the magical realm of Singapore (only slightly upset that the entrance stamp touched the edge of my Antarctica stamp) I was greeted by my new host – the story of how we met might be told later, but not now. I'll wait for a better opening.

My plane was an hour late, despite only being fifteen minutes late off the ground. Apparently the turbulence we hit was worse than I thought. Or maybe it was the turbulence we avoided.

A bus and short walk later and we were at her place, where I threw down my bags, before heading out to an Indian restaurant right behind her house. And I mean right behind – were she to have had a back yard, it would have been a small hop over the fence. But there was no back yard, and the small fence was a large fence, and it required walking down the street, turning a corner, and walking back up to get to.

This is a twenty four hour Indian place. Good food – twenty four hours a day. If I lived here? Death. And the carnation milk with rose syrup and a healthy addition of ice? Beautiful. And cold. And this is good. Do you know why this is so good? Because it is hot in Singapore. Not kind of hot, or a little hot, but – oh my god, I forgot what being this close to the equator was like – hot. And for added fun, it's humid too. Not Bangkok, I'm never leaving the house again, humid – but it's not far off.

Flyng all tuckers me out. Even if it's during normal hours, the time zones never change, and I slept well. I blame the low relative humidity, but when I'm contrasted with such a high one, can that be it? Sure – for now anyway.

Shanghai World Expo 2010 - Day Four

Today began at a merciful nine thirty.

Other days I'd have already been up for hours. I'd have already been to the expo for hours. But those were in the days of pass seeking. Today no China pass was required, and I could go at my leisure. And my leisure would bring me there at ten thirty.

I would not stop at the countries side and check out what there was to see there. No, today, I would stop at the Puxi side – one stop earlier, one stop north, of where I normally disembarked. Today I would explore the corporate side of the World Expo. Hey – it had to be pretty good right? I mean, that's why there were no lines, and no one walking around – because of how fantastic it was, yeah?

Also there was rain. Not enough to drown you, but a constant misting that had a cumulative effect that worked its way into your clothing. Especially if you chose to wear a cotton t-shirt. A most fabulous yellow, Canada, cotton t-shirt. Where, but the world Expo, would a shirt emblazoned with the name of your home country, would be more appropriate for such duds? The only problem? My beard covered my country's name. That was fixed by braiding my beard into three strands. Awesome fashion statement one and two.

Grabbing a most delicious salad bacon wrap from the bakery I was well nourished and ready for a day looking at things, I knew not what. It's strange – I had become so used to the one side of the river, than being on the other was very disorienting. I didn't know where to go, I didn't know how to get there, I didn't know what I was looking for when I arrived. But as I stumbled through the maze of confusion I'd constructed for myself I saw a line – a great big line for the CSSC building. No I didn't know what the CSSC was, but if all these people felt strongly enough to get behind it, well then it seemed like a good a place as any to start.

Into the line I went.

As it would turn out CSSC – I believe – is the ship docks that used to be located here where the two corporate zones are. I was told this before, that the Expo was being hosted at the old dock yards. New ones were built. Apparently some villages were taken down too – but new ones were created for those who lost their homes. Most are happy about this – we are told.

Inside a movie shows the past present and potential future of the Chinese ship building. They also illustrate plans for a Rapture-like underwater expanse. I'm not sure that any of these underwater cities would ever work – nor do I think they'd be a great idea. After all, what would an Earthquake do? Once again though, if anyone was going to pull something like this off, it would be the Chinese. There's little you can't accomplish with a communist government and a workforce totaling more than one billion.

As I walk around, it's hard to think this is the same country where people drowned their children if they had the misfortune of being female. And where were the beggars who rented special needs children? Were these all myths – or are they out there, outside the World Expo gates?

When the video finished, a hallway where models were displayed for an armada that would act as a functioning city. There were farm ships, and power ships, and cargo ships – refrigerating, entertainment, and more. It was like the armada in Battlestar Galactica – but less travelling through space, and more floating on water. There also didn't seem to be a battleship amongst them either. Surely, were this floating city ever put to the test, one would be included. Yarg. Pirates there be matey.

Finally there was a creation the length of the USS Enterprise. An entire city on one ship, with apartment towers, and playgrounds, and even airplane landing strips. It was a dream – but once more I got the feeling that's all it would ever be. A dream. Where are the plans to make these ideas a reality? When could such a thing ever hope to come to pass?

On the other hand I got to control mouse cursors by moving my arm through the air, and that was fun.

The next building I checked out was called 2049. I expected this to show me the future 39 years from now. It's going to be a different place by then. I don't mean in the great future tech way of things, I just mean – the people around me. Friends, family. Some will change, some will be added, others lost. Thirty some odd years doesn't seem all that long, and yet – some day it will be far too long to ever hope to see. But these were not the thoughts I came for. I came for machines, and more robots, and -

apparently I came for monkeys. Saving monkeys. The expo is doing wonders for making saving animals seem sexy. I wonder if any of these governments cared before now?

Once we learned about the monkeys we were herded to a 360 movie with sand art, and the like. It was quite interesting – the telling of a story by drawing pictures with sand – and I'd like to see more of it. It has a shadow puppetry feel to it. And it's something I'd never really thought of before.

And then I learned about recycling. Specially in Taipei, where the garbage was such a problem until good ol' Uncle China stepped in and fixed their back water ways. I wonder how terrible it was? Were the streams really over run by refuse? Honestly, I'd not be surprised either way.

From there we were give choices of which two cylindars we wanted to go into first – D or E. I choose D, as it was said to have a thirty minute line, but looked pretty short – which meant that if anyone else stepped up it would become far longer. E had a short line, but a lot of people, meaning that they could deal with the masses. So into D I want, the Ant Colony.

In line I explained to a Chinese woman the difference between beard and mustache. She was the first person over forty who asked to take a picture with me. Barrier crossed. Right as I was about the get into my novel people started shouting E-ka-Ren-da. I had no idea what was going on, but they were all looking at me, and then pushing me to the front of the line. Apparently they needed a single person to enter into the pavilion. Now that I think about it, I had discovered that Ren (the logo for the Expo) meant people/person, and E I believe is one. But at the time? Just weird.

Still – up I went, and inside I saw why – it was a little bit of a ride. There were seat belts and everything. The only problem with that, I felt like Alan Grant in the helicopter landing on Jurassic Park. I had only two female ends. There was nothing to clip them together. And they weren't long enough to snap together. Finally the woman beside me saw her mistake and hooked me up with a male side of the belt, and off we went.

O.K. up we went. Very slowly up. But it was interesting, cartoon ants explaining what lessons we had to learn from animals when it comes to building and creating. Some malls in Africa have used their techniques to air condition, with a constant stream of fresh moving air from outside. What other secrets does studying this animals hope to reveal to us?

And then down down down we went, and off to the final building within 2049. This we sat in a motion simulator chair, but all it did was let us lie back to see a movie projected on the ceiling, and then sit up when we were to look at the walls once more. The environment is in trouble. I got that part. We can save it. Blah blah blah. But it was pretty.

I consulted my new map (not the one covered in stamps – the rain would have hurt it oh so much. It's in rough enough shape from constant use as it is.) There was a big Future Pavilion in front of me. It was one of the ones you needed to make a reservation for, and I did not – but getting close I noticed that there as a small line for the non-reserved. Ten minutes there, and I was inside ready to see what the future held. And apparently what it holds Hollywood has already shown me.

The Island, Moebius Strip, Ghost in the Shell, and Metropolis had clips playing detailing what these cities of the future could be like. Some thoughts crossed my mind – The Island? Really? That's what you choose to show? Ghost in the Shell – man I need to finish that, jut not on a plane. And then watch 1st and 2nd gig as well. Moebius Strip? What is this movie, and why have I never heard of it. I must seek it out. And Metropolis – after over a decade of hearing how I need to watch it, fine – maybe I'll get around to it now, then, alright? Happy.

And I was left with the wounded though of – why no fifth element? That was a great future society all figured out in full. Well whatever. Through the door, and on to the fuuuuuture (echo echo echo).

Walking through tunnels covered in text, I was shocked that I could read everything. There was no problem with trying to understand. Once more I discover how fantastic it is to speak and read English. Were you from Germany, or France, or – well anywhere – and you didn't know English or Chinese, that's it, you'd be screwed. You'd have no idea what anyone was saying. I don't think that pavilions even translate in their own home language – which seems like a silly thing. You'd think the Spanish could at least enjoy Spain but in this case, I do not think that is so.

As I wandered the future it was more promises of a greener environment and things to come, without proof of anything at all being done to take us there. This was getting as silly as all the pavilions just showing off their great projector technology. I quickly made my way out.

I was on to the Case buildings. I didn't know what they were – but there were a lot of them. Join pavilions, and single ones, and – luckily I had stopped my stamp collecting madness, if only because I was running out of space. Now I just grabbed ones I care about, or one from where I looked around.

Hong Kong was first – stamp stamp – and I was given a bracelet to open a door, and then use on some screens to gain tourist information (that's what the Case buildings are for!) and then to open the exit door. While I wasn't told, I wonder if the chip in these bracelets could be used as an octopus card? It's too bad it will be quite some time until I'm given the chance once more to find out – provided I don't lose this somewhere along the way. Which I probably will.

Then onto Montreal – where there was a whole lot of nothing. Fitting for such a city, I'd say. Vancouver I wanted to check out – but they were closed with guards at the door. Did they not notice my b right yellow Canada shirt? I mean – come on! - let me in. Most people, finding I'm from Canada, think I'm from B.C. anyway, so it could be my home town. Why do they think I'm from B.C.? They wrongly assume I'm a hippie. Hippies... ugh. I shower! With soap too – not that biodegradable stuff that still leaves you smelling, no matter what your vegan friends might tell you!

The Xi'an Case was beautiful, and built like the drum tower. Inside was mostly baren. I thought, maybe, the Jade Chariot might be here – but it was not. Enough of these Cases. The day was dragging on, and there were still a few buildings I wanted to check out this side of the river. There was the Future Home pavilion, which on the way to, I purchased some Apple milk. While Apple/Orange milk – no good – Apple milk? Quite lovely, and I think it would go really well on cereal. True story.

The Future Home pavilion had two lines – one for those wanting to see the 3D movie, and one for those who didn't. 3D movie? Two hours. Without, about five minutes. I knew where I was headed. Who knew what the movie was about, or how long it lasted? I have no time for that. So into the building I went. And saw – I don't kn ow – more dreams. It was like a child playing with toys, “this ship can go mach 20 through the upper atmosphere linking anywhere in the world in seconds” Uh huh. That will happen. You can make up whatever specs you want where there's no one to hold you to it. Why stop at mach 20? Why not warp 7, instantly get from area to area? Why not show teleporters on the moon? But maybe – maybe – there's some hope that this will become reality in the next thirty years. We'll have to see what Richard Branson thinks about it.

Last on my list of things to see was the Coca-Cola pavilion. I know, I know, but what could I do? It was there beside me. And people in line were cheering, and getting balloon animals, and being branded (face/hand painted) with the Coca-Cola logo. How could I resist the urge to get in that super-happy corporate joy line?

Inside a movie played showing how coke gets from the vending machine to you, and it is a magical series of mountains and adventures, and weird little cartoon 3d not real miscreants running around. Not just a series of tubes.

They also talked about a new future Coke vending machine which could provide hundreds of different types of drinks – in theory, I'm thinking, that the soda water and the syrup would be inside, and it would mix itself when you select what you want. I am excited for this – as I would create the most vial of all flavours, and claim to love it. Coca-Cola I am ready for your nonsense.

Also – for only $200USD you could buy a glass coke bottle. The gold one was only 10USD – I have no idea why the other was so much more, nor did I ask, for the closer I got the more people seemed to want to help me, which gave me Future Shop syndrome, and sent me running far far away, down to the ferry, where I would cross the river back to the side I'd come to know and love.

Well I didn't run all the way to the Ferry docks. First, I felt the need to pop into the Expo museum.

The expo museum showed the past host cities, and things that were on display there – assembly lines, and light bulbs, and telephones, and wonders of the world. And I got to thinking, what is Shanghai adding to the mix? I mean, yeah, there's lots of hopes and dreams – but what is that one thing that will leave people thinking, “wow – this is it?” Sure there was the future tech in the Japan pavilion, but I'm wondering if it's even possible to have the expo show something off? Would any corporation use this forum as a launch platform? There are so many more ways, so many more places – it seems the time of the expo is growing short, as the world keeps shrinking. Hopefully there will be a place for it – as it was really interesting. But I'm not not sure what to have taken away from it.

And then on to the docks.

For the most part the ferry crossing was smooth – except for docking. Though the waters were still, it took no less than eight attempts to back up, go forward, try to loop the rope around the dock, and then repeat. This was an obnoxious process than went beyond hilarity after try four or five. It was not getting cooler in the boat.

But once all was well I headed off to BK – where, joy of joys, they had burgers again. A spicy chicken and a final Whopper, and I was good to leave the Expo with just one quick stop first. O.K. two, there was no line for the Lithuania building. In I went. And then out. Great. Now to the gift shop.

Buying things was weird here. Heaven forbid you just took your purchases to the front. No – you saw something you wanted, pointed to it (never touching it) on the shelf, were written a sheet for it, took the sheet to cash, paid for nothing, had your sheet stamped, took it back to the shelf, and were given the item you first pointed to. Sure, yeah, that makes sense. Whatever – I had some items and was good to go.

At 5:59 I declared my expo over, got on the bus, and had only one more strange event occur. A girl pointed at my beard, and then said, “beard!” Ahh the ways of these post-high school Chinese girls. And when I was looking away she patted by arm hair, “ohh!” Really? I guess arm hair is as foreign as facial hair. But this was a first for me.

With that, my time in Shanghai, and the expo, was over. I made my way to the subway, back to the hostel, and then to sleep. Tomorrow I'd be flying to Singapore.

Huh – looks like I never saw the Shanghai skyline at night after all. Who could have possibly predicted that?