Panic stations

Today seemed to accelerate more than I had expected.

In the morning, while my wife packed, I took the kids out to close a bank account. This was half an hour of unrelenting whining from La Serpiente about how boring banks were, before I bought them babycinnos and a cookie, then took them back to the hotel, where they flounced and gibbered.

The concierge, bless him, kept making balloon animals for the girls, which they then broke or deflated or unwound and then complained to us about, so that was probably a net negative. Still, I kept entertaining the girls until 1pm with sticker books and fruit juice, before we went to the school art show.

I liked it less than last year, perhaps because the art was slightly less abstract than before, but after yesterday’s cake party, it was time for my wife to tear up as she saw so many kids parents for the last time. I bailed out at 3 and went to get our insane amount of luggage (13 bags) from the hotel and head to the airport.

We’re staying at a hotel that connects to the Jewel, a shiny edifice built alongside the terminals, with millions of shops in it. I had to stay in the hotel room and work, so it was down to my wife to entertain the kids until dinner. Lots of yelling, basically, then sushi. Afterwards, we had friends come over to our hotel room and this meant the kids stayed up until 11, dreadful preparation for the flight tomorrow. Oh well.

Like Hong Kong, you can check in early. Up to 12 hours early, but sadly not a day beforehand, as I was told by a bolshy dragon lady at 1030pm. So tomorrow we wheel 13 pieces of luggage and 2 kids across the airport.

At least they fell asleep in seconds when we finally put them into bed.

So here goes. Goodbye Singapore, farewell my lovelies…

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