TRAVELING AROUND THE WORLD: Our Tales of Delights and Disasters by Shelley Row Page A
Book: TRAVELING AROUND THE WORLD: Our Tales of Delights and Disasters by Shelley Row
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Authors: Shelley Row
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compartment between the handle bars and holding on with a grin.
The second night of the train trip, the tracks were still rough. It felt like we were bouncing along a gravel road. Sleep was marginal again. The last night traveling through Malaysia was better but still difficult. Mike tucked the sheets around him like a sleeping bag to keep from rolling out of bed. And then we reached Singapore. All trash disappeared, roads improved, agricultural production ceased, and skyscrapers soared. It was as though we entered a tropical garden with elephant ear plants the size of umbrellas. The difference was dramatic.
Whenever I think of the Orient Express, I remember the rocking train. While still on the three-day journey, Mike and I walked the length of the train to the wood-lined observation car. We bounced and jostled from wall to wall like a pin ball as we walked down the narrow corridors with the train swaying and jerking along. Everyone good naturedly waited at the end of cars so that others could pass. We hung off the back of the train watching the scenery go by in the warm, humid breeze that left our skin slightly sticky as our hair whipped around in the wind.
Even though beautifully appointed, our cabin began to feel confining after thirty-six hours. It was certainly possible to live, shower and dress in the small compartment but difficult after a couple of days. The small shower was challenging as I was tossed from side to side. Mike repeatedly hit his head on the mirror as he leaned forward to brush his teeth. The waiters were gifted at pouring water, wine and coffee while moving to and fro. I’d like to see them try putting on mascara.
It was a wonderful experience. Yet I was ready to get off when we arrived in Singapore. Mike and I rejoiced when we reached our spacious hotel room in Singapore. The bed didn’t move and I could open my arms and not touch the walls of the bathroom. What joy!
Our burl-wood-paneled room, the attentive, impeccably clad staff, the ambiance of care and luxury while zipping through ever-changing tropical landscapes all add up to the Orient Express; that, and bouncing along the narrow corridors.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Singapore: Like Another Country
Singapore isn’t like another country, it is another country. And what a country! I never experienced anything quite like Singapore. It is a tropical paradise that feels like living inside an immaculately kept garden – a garden that sprouted skyscrapers. As we rode in the taxi to our regal hotel, the Fullerton, we could hardly believe our eyes. Glass and steel skyscrapers, each one of a more extraordinary design than the next, were packed shoulder to shoulder. More were under construction.
The first thing that struck me about Singapore was the vegetation. Lush greenery was everywhere. Palm trees lined the streets, flowers such as bird-of-paradise grew along walkways. Bougainvillea-filled planters sat at the sides of bridges. But here’s the most amazing part…There was not a piece of litter anywhere – not one scrap. As Mike and I walked around the city, we counted the number of individual pieces of litter that we saw. We never needed more than two hands to count for the entire day’s walk. A plastic bottle in the grass looked so out of place that we picked it up to throw into the nearest can.
The other dominate feature of Singapore was the water – both the river that runs through the center of the city and the ocean. Unlike, say, Baltimore Harbor, there was not one piece of debris floating in the water. Our hotel faced onto a large inlet where the river joined the ocean. Two boats cleaned the water by sucking up debris, except there wasn’t anything to suck up. An old man swept a public sidewalk with a dust pan and broom and, in the course of the morning, had amassed a few leaves and a couple of cigarette butts. Workers pressure-washed already clean sidewalks. During my first morning run, I saw a
The second night of the train trip, the tracks were still rough. It felt like we were bouncing along a gravel road. Sleep was marginal again. The last night traveling through Malaysia was better but still difficult. Mike tucked the sheets around him like a sleeping bag to keep from rolling out of bed. And then we reached Singapore. All trash disappeared, roads improved, agricultural production ceased, and skyscrapers soared. It was as though we entered a tropical garden with elephant ear plants the size of umbrellas. The difference was dramatic.
Whenever I think of the Orient Express, I remember the rocking train. While still on the three-day journey, Mike and I walked the length of the train to the wood-lined observation car. We bounced and jostled from wall to wall like a pin ball as we walked down the narrow corridors with the train swaying and jerking along. Everyone good naturedly waited at the end of cars so that others could pass. We hung off the back of the train watching the scenery go by in the warm, humid breeze that left our skin slightly sticky as our hair whipped around in the wind.
Even though beautifully appointed, our cabin began to feel confining after thirty-six hours. It was certainly possible to live, shower and dress in the small compartment but difficult after a couple of days. The small shower was challenging as I was tossed from side to side. Mike repeatedly hit his head on the mirror as he leaned forward to brush his teeth. The waiters were gifted at pouring water, wine and coffee while moving to and fro. I’d like to see them try putting on mascara.
It was a wonderful experience. Yet I was ready to get off when we arrived in Singapore. Mike and I rejoiced when we reached our spacious hotel room in Singapore. The bed didn’t move and I could open my arms and not touch the walls of the bathroom. What joy!
Our burl-wood-paneled room, the attentive, impeccably clad staff, the ambiance of care and luxury while zipping through ever-changing tropical landscapes all add up to the Orient Express; that, and bouncing along the narrow corridors.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Singapore: Like Another Country
Singapore isn’t like another country, it is another country. And what a country! I never experienced anything quite like Singapore. It is a tropical paradise that feels like living inside an immaculately kept garden – a garden that sprouted skyscrapers. As we rode in the taxi to our regal hotel, the Fullerton, we could hardly believe our eyes. Glass and steel skyscrapers, each one of a more extraordinary design than the next, were packed shoulder to shoulder. More were under construction.
The first thing that struck me about Singapore was the vegetation. Lush greenery was everywhere. Palm trees lined the streets, flowers such as bird-of-paradise grew along walkways. Bougainvillea-filled planters sat at the sides of bridges. But here’s the most amazing part…There was not a piece of litter anywhere – not one scrap. As Mike and I walked around the city, we counted the number of individual pieces of litter that we saw. We never needed more than two hands to count for the entire day’s walk. A plastic bottle in the grass looked so out of place that we picked it up to throw into the nearest can.
The other dominate feature of Singapore was the water – both the river that runs through the center of the city and the ocean. Unlike, say, Baltimore Harbor, there was not one piece of debris floating in the water. Our hotel faced onto a large inlet where the river joined the ocean. Two boats cleaned the water by sucking up debris, except there wasn’t anything to suck up. An old man swept a public sidewalk with a dust pan and broom and, in the course of the morning, had amassed a few leaves and a couple of cigarette butts. Workers pressure-washed already clean sidewalks. During my first morning run, I saw a
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