In and out the cherry(immigration) window
Against rational reasoning, we lugged our tired bodies across the Causeway last evening. On the train ride towards Kranji, we were speculating… “Ok it’s almost 7, there’ll be alot of people going in. The good news is, we’ll have an easier time making our way back. Or is it the other way around?” Never did we expect that the journey to and fro were the smoothest and least congested we’ve ever experienced.
It’s also the first time in my life I’ve entered another country and left within 3 hours. It’s like, even less eventful than going to Sentosa (which is, you know, also overseas). Through the immigration within 5 minutes, J shopping like she struck lottery within an hour, dinner for another, and then we’re out. It felt weird, very around-the-world-in-80-days. It was alright and pretty exciting, until we took the long bus ride back to Bugis. Both of us were sleeping like dead logs and it took mighty effort to cajole our butts off the seats when we reached the terminal.
And then we couldn’t get a cab home. Either we were invisible, or all the cabbies were suddenly rushing to the toilet because no cab stopped for us, or even looked at us. That’s a pretty difficult thing to do, you know, especially when J was waving her arms around like a freak.
So we decided to take the bus. The bus stop was filled with people. Actually there were not alot, but when you’re feeling really grouchy from sleep and really really wanna get home, the number of people and the wait time usually multiplies by 10. In the end, we took the train. Where I got stepped on. Again. As usual. Maybe I AM invisible. Or maybe my feet are. How is it otherwise possible to get stepped on almost everyday?
All in all, the trip home was more tiring than the trip itself. I probably wouldn’t want to do it again. Unless I get coerced into doing it.