Several people have generously asked me if there's anything I can't get in Singapore that they could try to send to me. Strangely the answer is no. It slightly detracts from the image of South East Asia as a mysterious tropical paradise, but they have Marks and Spencers selling hobnobs and mint humbugs.
One thing that is difficult to get though (read 'expensive') is good cheese. I guess with the country being so small, I wouldn't be surprised if the domestic cow is extinct in Singapore so, like most of the rest of their food (and water) Singaporeans import all their dairy from at least as far as Australia. Luckily Lyn had conveniently planned a trip to France a few weeks ago. And luckily I didn't go with her. Whenever I travel through an airport my bags always get scanned or searched. I must give off the vibe of a heroin/people/chewing gum smuggler. But Lyn's bag made it through with almost a kilo of extremely ripe and perspiring blue cheese.
I've been doing my best to get through it all. It's a big job though. And Lyn's Mum keeps me well fed; so days go by where I don't even think about going near the fridge. Through mid-night insomniac snacks I'm starting to make some progress. I even managed to find some oatcakes to help but I've got a long way to go; and the cheese is only getting stronger.
Random bonus photos:
My hand almost healed a few days after a 'disagreement' with Mac, Lyn's Shihtzu. My faith in the Napolean complex reaffirmed.
Bryan Robson scaring the crap out of me from an advert on the bus.