Don't cry for me, Singapore

Dear Readers,

This is my last blog on this site because it makes no sense to ask the question, what sound does a merlion make? I am hell and gone from Singapore and I have no idea when I shall return, if ever. I miss the heat, the sun, maybe even the mosquitoes. I don't miss the little monkeys (tenants) running around upstairs at all hours of the night, the small cramped apartment, and the tons of people on the street literally blocking your way every way you tried to go.

The return home has been fraught with incompentency. It took us almost a month to get the land line hooked up. The unlisted number turned out to be a former number of a deadbeat who all the bill collectors are after. Imagine that. The phone didn't work for the first three weeks so the little man came out and unhooked it from our dead computer line and hooked it up to the real phone. Now we enjoyed all kinds of calls looking for deadbeats.

We got the little box from Verizon for the internet. It's a step up from dial up. So now we need a wireless printer and a phone upstairs. Money seems to fly out the window.

Steve had a business meeting in Spain so we got a flight to New York (direct to Barcelona from there). We spent a couple of days with our youngest daughter Beth and her boyfriend Mike.

We traveled to the 911 Memorial at Ground Zero. We were very lucky to get tickets. We ate lots of yummy dinners too. One the last day, Sarah and her boyfriend Mike surprised us. We spent the day walking on the Manhattan skyline and enjoying the view.

From there we got on the plane for an overnight flight to Barcelona. I never went to sleep of course, I never do. Did enjoy some movies, TV shows, and interesting airline food. Interesting in a bad way. Anyway, we landed in Barcelona and the sun was shining. We got our luggage and finally figured out how to change our money. Then we got a taxi-gave him the address of Sitges, a beach resort outside Barcelona. The taxi driver acted like he had no idea and he didn't speak English. Sure he knew where Sitges was but the hotel was completely another matter. He drove through the mountains and tunnels, strip mining is the norm there. Once he got to Sitges, then the real fun began. He stopped every few feet trying to find someone who had some idea where our hotel was. Eventually we arrived. Our hotel room was in the alley, not facing the ocean. But it was good size and had a TV. No hair dryer so I was frizz ball the whole vacation.

Sitges is the gay capital of Europe. Funny, but it wasn't in the brochure. I found out by observing that females were few and far between. Most females were with other females. Males couples were everywhere, most of them German. I was definitely in the minority. Another thing I learned-in Europe clothes are optional. There were whole beaches with naked men (it wasn't pretty) but on my beach, there was a mixture of men and women. The women sunbathed without tops. Of course my husband thought this was great. Children ran around naked. I spent four days laying on the beach trying to save my dying tan. Topless? Well, when in Rome . . .

Poor Steve had to work. The engineers from Northern Ireland came in-loving the weather. One night they played volleyball after the work day. We ate at the Argentina steak restaurant one night, and the chicken restaurant the last night. I roamed around the streets, admiring all the cats, the narrow alleys, interesting art shops, and as always, people watching. The only museums there were closed for renovation (this was a trend everywhere I went). Sitges is famous for a fort that sits on the hill overlooking the beach. They fought the British there in 1718. I couldn't tell who won.

Now I took Spanish in high school. I even hoped to major in it in college. But I couldn't get fluent. What I found out in Sitges was that when you are emersed in the language, you do pick it up. Soon I was following the soap operas and reading signs. The speaking part was hard though. I always reverted to English and they could always answer me. Reluctantly though. The waiters quickly became snooty when they figured out you weren't Spanish. We pointed and they huffed. It was torture getting the bill. A simple lunch took hours. I got tired of that.

Then came the end of our time in Sitges and we had to pack up and move on. A taxi guy came, again didn't speak English, and didn't have any idea where to go. He kept calling friends and asking where the Travel Lo-Key was (Travel Lodge Hotel). This bare bones place was within walking distance from the ITMA conference center where Steve had a trade show to attend.

We drove around in circles until finally we saw it and got there alive. Then the real adventure began . . .