Much like the rest of our holiday, we crammed a bloody lot into our last day together.
DD rested his weary head for 12 HOURS until I started going mad with boredom and slammed the bathroom door.
Then he sent me out in search of coffee – he doesn’t cope well without caffeine and isn’t overly fond of the tropics. We’re not really in a coffee neighbourhood, more teh tarik territory – so it was a bit of a hike to the local shopping centre’s Starbucks.
I was a teensy bit mournful/resentful as I trekked back to the hotel in the dripping humidity with two flat whites … Especially when DD grumbled about how milky they were (admittedly so milky I didn’t need the usual sugar with mine) … until he said he’d send me out for a different cuppa tomorrow, then suddenly realised he wouldn’t BE there for a cuppa then …
After that I just felt mournful and had a little weep, which I’m blaming on PMT …
Following our milky coffees we headed out for lunch and ended up at an Indonesiean place in Kampong Glam in hungry desperation instead of the venue that local contacts had suggested.
DD had never been to the Arab quarter before despite murmurous visits for work and was quite fascinated by the busy little streets filled with fabrics shops and trinkets. He was also stoked to score an excellent coffee in a groovy cafe we discovered there post-lunch.
Then we headed to Little India for an explore … And an afternoon tea of a bhattura (bread that comes out football-sized because it’s filled with steam like a balloon) and chickpea curry at the famous vegetarian restaurant Komalas Villas. It was DELICIOUS!
We wended our way back through colourful markets redolent with the scent of the floral garlands Indians buy to honour their gods and headed to a department store near our hotel.
DD, bless him, loves a pootle around the shops. He was the one that suggested our two outlet mall stops in Italy. He scored himself a replacement suitcase to replace his regular one after the wheel broke mid-trip (bonus: I’m using it to transport all my Finnish chocolate and booze home).
Then, somehow, we found time and room for a quick satay at La Pau Sat before DD headed to the airport.
I kissed him goodbye and helped him into a cab and he was off … With solo me heading back up to the room for my second PMT weep of the day … Soothed by a cider from the 7Eleven next door, which the cashiers kindly open with their bottle opener at the register. That’s service for you.
Safe travels DD.
PS Have stopped taking photos for some strange reason so most of these are by DD.