Thunder & Massage

Last night we hit the hotel nightclub on the 26th floor. Bored singers and few guests. The waitresses wore skimpy skirts and smiled a lot and the beer helped but not a lot. This morning the weather closed in and nursing a slight hangover, a massage was decided upon rather than Singapore.

A full Chinese body massage no less. My girl was No. 1 and had just finished teaching wild Eagles to tear their prey limb from limb. Her fingers were talons! She played my tendons like a harpist plays her strings... I think she was taking revenge on the British imperialists. Not what I would call a relaxing massage, but interesting. Very ticklish on the thigh area which made me (and her) laugh. All four of us were together in a huge massage area filled with couches but we were the only ones there. With admiral control I endured the pain with the stoicism worthy of a man.

Afterwards, Mike and myself sat outside and enjoyed some wonderfully original and delicious coffee as we waited out a huge thunderstorm that lasted three hours. I've never heard such thunder!

The massage spa reception.


The girls at work.






Ostrich burger anyone? I ordered one but they were out...


Waiting for the storm to pass.




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