All was going well, too well really. Then I left my handbag in the taxi. And realised it within minutes of being dropped off outside the departures hall at Changi Airport. My new ultra thin travel bag, bought specially because it would hold my passports easily. So that I would always have them at hand. Plus all the cards, bank and others. My whole life. Gone.
The obvious action, in hindsight would have been for Walter to ring my mobile number and the ring would have alerted the taxi driver. But instead he dashed downstairs to arrivals in case the driver headed that way to collect more passengers. I stood on the footpath, in case the the driver came back.
And he did, twenty nail biting minutes later. Due to Walter trying to ring me to let me know that he had rung the taxi company, and then realised my mobile was in the handbag. Of course the taxi driver heard it, and found my handbag on the rear floor of his taxi. There was much shaking of hands, and profuse thank yous. We paid him another fare, although he did not really want it.
The relief at having my handbag back was almost overwhelming. We continued on our way to the departures counter, very shakily, I might add. What a close call.
We had had a really lovely morning, visiting the huge Raffles shopping mall. We walked from our hotel, through the Bugis Street market, along Victoria Street, past the Grand Pacific Hotel where we stayed a few times previously, turned left at the Chijmes complex, which was once a convent and school, until we arrived at the shopping mall. A very pleasant thirty minute walk.
The blue and white Catholic church on Victoria Street.
The side entrance to Raffles Hotel. Not a place that we can afford these days, not that we would want to really, too glitzy and expensive. We frequented the hotel often in the early 1970s when the hotel was a comfortable colonial place, with overhead fans, and plenty of charm. And not surrounded with high rise buildings either. Beach Road was just that, a line of buildings on the other side of the road, and then the sea. Although the government had started with its reclamation of the coast.
Downstairs in the shopping mall, there was a very comfortable area with many cafes, restaurants and small food shops. We, of course, headed there for our morning coffee. It was excellent.
Walter standing in front of a patisserie. Such an assortment of delicious looking cakes.
We walked around the mall for a while, and Walter nearly bought some shirts from Marks and Spencers but realised that was a little silly, as he had bought shirts from Marks and Spencers before we left England. They were the same type of shirts but cheaper in England.
Robinsons. Every time we see this shop in Singapore we immediately remind each other about the fate of the shop in Raffles Place, by Collyers Quay. It burnt down, very quickly, one Monday morning in 1972, killing a few people who were caught in the lifts when the fire started. Horrifying. Of course we reckoned that the fire was started deliberately so that Raffles Place could be redeveloped, as setting fire to certain areas of Singapore appeared to be the usual method of moving people out. Robinsons, the only English type department store in Singapore at that time, was moved to a new building in Orchard Road, which was fast becoming the shopping place in Singapore.
We walked back through Bugis Street, stopping for an ice cream for Walter and the most delicious mango smoothie for me. The smoothie was topped with mango pieces.
And then we caught a taxi to Changi, and our adventure with the handbag began.
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