Landed in Singapore. Immigration asked me how long I was staying. It was a trick question. In my jet-lagged haze, my brain refused to process numbers. I knew it was March 10. I knew I was leaving March 31. I knew if I subtracted 10 from 31 I'd have a fairly accurate answer for the man. But I just couldn't do it. I looked at him helplessly. "I'll give you a month," he barked. "Do you understand? You have to leave in 30 days!" I nodded yes, although at the time it seemed a cruel request, to get back on an airplane. 20 hours is a long time, even in business class.
Then I was done with customs, baggage, ATM, and ground transport in 30 minutes. Boy, are these Singaporeans efficient!
Hit the bed at the Swissotel Merchants Court and passed out.
