Once again, I was invited to a wedding on the far side of the world and took it as an opportunity to go backpacking (and pick up a suit) along the way.
Day 0 (Wed, July 5, 2023)
Wrap up work, ensuring the last of the handover and updates are complete. A quick rush of housecleaning before taking out the garbage and hopping on the U Bahn to BER. Turkish Airlines check-in is fast, but the security check is slow as one of the machines requires a maßnahmen. The person ahead of me distributes her luggage across 4 separate boxes and I load mine into 2 with practiced efficiency. “Du bist sehr schnell”. This is great. I’m going to get a good grade in airport security, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve. After picking up a bagel and passing through automated border control, I reach the gate just as boarding starts. On the plane, I settle down to finish The Freeze Frame Revolution as the plane takes off. Oof, that last exchange between Chimp and Sunday. Dune over dinner and drift away over Baku.
Day 1
Reasonable sleep, but wake tired and finish watching Dune over breakfast before descending into Hanoi. As the plane banks, I catch my first view of Vietnam, low buildings cross crossing green fields and hills. Disembarking the plane, the heat can be felt kin the skybridge. Painless passport control, fairly painless sim setup and outside for the bus. A guy (with a motorbike) tries to convince me that you need a bike to reach the bus. “That’s not true is it mate?” “…no, bus leaves just there” he replies sheepishly and grins. After a short wait, the 86 rolls away from the airport. The scenery changes rapidly from greenery to a vast bridge to familiar south east Asian streets. Step out of the bus and confronted again with the oppressive heat and rapidly figure out the Vietnam specific traffic rules (hand of good kinda works, horns aren’t used as signifiers, otherwise India rules apply). Check in at hostel, check out the pool and bar, then head out into the press of the tourist area. Search for food places, but defer to the eternal rule of “eat where the locals are eating” and have a decent bowl of Com Tho Ga. Sit by the lake, watching Ngoc Son Temple lit up in the darkness before meandering my way back, picking a shirt out on the way. At the hostel, I head to the pool bar where Toady introduces me to Vietnamese engineering with a bamboo bong hit, followed by Shithead with Swedish Rasmus and Germans Oskar and Caroline. Downstairs for pool, shithead, drinks and a discovery that nos is legal in Vietnam. A long discussion of pockets with Floridian Katie, a discovery of an Irish cadre and a few Brits before eventually turning in at a reasonable time, hoping to head off jetlag.
Day 2
Wake tired, my jetlag busting “have a lot of drinks and nos” plan apparently not working. Head downstairs for a breakfast of beef noodles, then book a walking tour and head out in search of water and coffee, finally getting a wonderfully bitter iced Vietnamese coffee in a mercifully air conditioned cafe. Another walk towards the station, another coffee then back to the hostel. An avocado cacao and some reading later, I meet Hani for the tour and we head to the (partially closed) military museum where we discuss the Vietnamese perception of the war (pride) and various aspects of Vietnamese culture. We walk onto Hoan Thang Long, spending time exploring the layers of history and briefly getting involved in a photo shoot. On to West Lake where the sun is setting followed by a slow walk back and more chatting (apparently dog theft is a big deal in the country). We part ways, a fun girl. I get some phoenix shrimp and a beer before washing up and heading out to meet Hana. After waiting a little while, she arrives and says I look very hip hop and we head to Sniff. Thus begins the strangest date I have ever been on, as we communicate entirely via Google translate. Several drinks and balloons later, Hana wins a prize. We part ways.
Day 3
Wake to alarm at 9, still tired and apparently not jetlag free. Check out the pool terrace, despite being 33C (and “feeling like 43”), the grey clouds make the morning feel noticeably cooler. After a breakfast of fried eggs and hash browns, I walk over to the night market island and grab a coffee as the humidity rises. Grabbing a tasty Gà Nâm on the way, I walk to the air conditioned cafe from earlier for another, cooler coffee and a longer read. Back at the hostel I head up to the pool bar where a party is starting and chat about how many drugs the kids are taking (“kids with their ketamine”) with Austin from Washington (state) who teaches English in Hanoi. Poolside, we discuss the ethics of complexity and abortion with Regan from Texas at the pool, bumping up my Cilliers and Derrida quite count for the trip. Australian Sophie joins and we discuss travelling alone, bogan culture and how to avoid transit fares. The rain and wind pick up as I head downstairs to grab a taxi to meet up with Emrah. The neon lit street signs glow in the rain as we drive past, normalised from the air conditioned car. Walking down a waterfront road, I join Emrah and some expat friends at El Loco Tapas bar. We discuss Vietnam, the Bulgaria of the east, tailoring and every woman’s consultant radiologist fantasy over rum and sangria. The debate about whether I look like a Robert starts again, and I try to win Italian Magda to my side. We hop on mopeds to the bottle garden, a craft beer place where I get a Quan Tâm Leap and we drink in the back yard. Roya arrives, and I take the question seat, answering questions about diabetes and my phone sock. We have some mushrooms and dance a little before driving a short distance to Savage. Inside, we explore the multi level club (red room, heavy techno and fog, middle room lighter EDM and a terrace chilling area). Balloons upon balloons as we dance away in the red room. The visuals in the red room are particularly interesting. We float around, dance and hang out in different places for many hours. Eventually, I stumble to a taxi and drag myself to bed at the hostel, impressed I was able to make it back.
Day 4
Wake slowly, head still spinning a little. Make it downstairs 2 minutes after free breakfast closes, but get some food anyway. Slowly shower, pack and checkout. Walk through the markets to pick up some spare shoelaces as mine are getting pretty ragged. Bahn Mi from a local place, then coffee at highland coffee before painlessly boarding the train. Not much headroom, but otherwise comfortable. A Vietnamese girl with a cat joins, followed by 2 female tourists travelling together. The train rolls off at exactly 15:30 as the cat mews. Hanoi’s buildings roll past, and while greenery increases, buildings hug the tracks for a while. Around 18:00, dusk encroaches and rice paddies stretch out on the right, buildings remain on the left. A few Vietnamese and tourists join at Ninh Binh. As the sun sets, the buildings (mostly) drop away, replaced by undulating hills thick with foliage. Cup noodle and reading and the scenery rolls by. The Vietnamese get in the top bunk keeps playing tedious videos late into the night, but eventually, sleep wins.
Day 5
Wake to rolling greenery and a wide river crossing, dawn light and the Vietnamese guy still playing videos at 5am. Enjoy the scenery and say goodbye to the two women as they get off at Huê. Breakfast Pho (a lot of gristle) from the cart, then reading and watching Lap An lagoon roll past. The train winds up into the hills and through tunnels, with Da Nang eventually revealing itself across the bay. As we circle the bay, a few small fishing boats and nets resolve, but not much more. Soon, we are surrounded by buildings and we pull into Da Nang station at 09:30, just 1 hour late. I wander a short distance to an airy coffee bar and have a coconut ice-cream and coffee combo, which turns out to be quite excellent. Hop in a shuttle bus, which slowly fills up as we head down the waterfront. The heat, wide stroads and car centrism evokes the US, even as we cross a bridge adorned as a yellow dragon. A garish yacht sits aside the bay, turquoise water and golden sand backs resort after resort, the last a metal skeleton flanked by concrete towers, a sort of American phoenix rising from the ashes of something distinct. We stop by the side of the road for about an hour at a police checkpoint, then off to Hoi An. More resorts, but smaller “beach clubs” now, not looming towers. Get dropped off a short walk from the hostel, where Tasmanian Matt greets me, giving me the low down or Hoi An. I unpack, shower and head out to a Bahn Mi place recommended by Anthony Bourdain that turns out to be excellent as well. A quick iced matcha stop, then checking out a few tailors. After 4 stops and a variety of experiences and fabrics, I return to Tuong to get measured and pick out my choices and fabrics. A little negotiating later, I pay the deposit and size up some dress shoes as well. Back at the hostel, I briefly recharge, book a tour for tomorrow and head out towards the old town. After entering the car free area, things calm down a bit, then rapidly get more busy at the waterfront. Pressing crowds, drones and lanterns are almost oppressive. A few lanterns and stalls would be nice, this much is wild. I see 2 Irish bars on the waterfront. The subtle cultural hegemony of my people. Wander through the crowds, stopping for a grilled rice paper and cheese sausage thing. I turn to the interior of the island, the lights immediately dropping away and giving way to darkness and refuse. Back at the hostel, card games ensue, in one game the losing team sings the Vietnamese National Anthem, which we all agree is extremely metal. Multiple injuries during Irish snap and I struggle to remember which hand to snap. Irish Stuart joins joins for a few games of Irish snap, followed by Shithead. Ly is very competitive. After people filter away, chat with Adam and Mary about the fluidity of nationality and identity and the delights of Russian cuisine, before finally turning in.
Day 6
Wake tired, regretting not getting to bed earlier, quickly showering and packing. Meet a polish and Japanese pair at breakfast and discuss our plans (they’re doing the cooking tour) over pancakes. Board the tour bus which quickly fills up with tourists from nearby hotels. Chat with Michaela from Adelaide and Australian teacher Russ about travel and the heat as we drive towards the hills. After passing a Disney world sized parking lot, we get off at an uncomfortably touristic holding area, replete with food stalls. Tickets in hand, we are guided towards the gondolas and ascend chatting with Portuguese Caterina and an antivax Brit. At the top, the hand bridge is a press as we shuffle forward. Split off with Michaela and Russ to explore the various gardens. Jardin de Amor (rose bushes), Garden of Mythology (a few statues), Garden of Thought (a chess set), Garden of Eden (a peacock?) and others that aren’t worth remembering. We find a quiet area we dub the eagle’s nest and chill before heading back to group, tapping every “rock” along the way to confirm it is fake. Another press and gondola to French Village, where we have a varied buffet and head off to explore. I find an unmarked path and wander a ways into the jungle for a while before returning to the European styled citadel and delights such as, Game of Thrones rip off flags, a Biergarten with roast meats and a huge sign that says “BEER”, a fake church, complete with an enormous Jesus adorned crucifix, endless flowers and advertisements for some sort of European fire ceremony. So many statues though, every other pedestal has a statue, with no discernible pattern. A pastiche of Europe. Cultural appropriation, somehow justified and still jarring to observe from the other side. Is this how others see us? Gondola back down, where I discover 2 of the girls in the group just graduated from Cardiff Uni (Civil Engineering, so Trevithick alumni too!). Back at the hostel, I drop my stuff and head out to buy gin and get fitted for a shirt at Bebe. A short while later, I’m back at the hostel for a shower and clothes wash before heading down for family dinner. Great food with Adam, Mary and her friend, Italian Sylvia, who just got back from biking to Ba Na. We talk about techno pairings and Mary declares that I’m a Berlin Hipster. I make some G+Ts and we transition to cards. A few rounds of Italian Snap, and Ly introduces us to a common gambling card game from North Vietnam “Big 2” with some interesting strategy elements. Matt from Philadelphia and Shaun from last night join, with Shaun picking things up quickly. German Hannah and Kate join for a few rounds, then leave followed by Shaun and Sylvia so we transition to sharing travel stories (Matt has been injured many, many times) and a few more drinks before people head off to bed.
Day 7
Wake slowly, enjoying a non rushed morning before heading down for breakfast around 9. A quick pack later, I head out for a read and a coconut coffee at a marginally cooled cafe before heading to Bebe for shirt fitting. Simple enough, then onto the river, noticeably calmer now, for a mango smoothie followed by a sweet, but otherwise nice egg coffee. Up to Turong for suit fitting which results in a few adjustments and picking up the shoes (almost forgetting, the owner shouts me down) which fit surprisingly well. Back at the hostel, I shower and head out for a simultaneously relaxing and intense massage at the end of the street. Out to Miss Ly for a great Cao Lao and a meander through the gradually filling streets and markets. Back at the hostel, I play a few rounds of Cambio with Ly and newly arrived Lara from Potsdam, then off to the night market for a wander, trying to filter out ambience from the oppressive lanterns and crowds of tourists. A Zombie remix blares from one of the Irish bars, which is fine actually. Mary messages me and she’s in the Irish bar, so I join meeting British Connie and Max. We discuss travel, drugs and berlin club Tur Politiks over beers before transferring to Tiger Tiger, which has the vibes of anywhere in the UK called Tiger Tiger. One drink and a balloon each before we part ways and I walk back with Mary.
Day 8
Wake fairly well rested and head downstairs for breakfast before packing and wandering out for coffee. First stop is Fuse, just down the road, where I have an Americano on the veranda. Walk south to get a nicer coconut coffee, then head off for the final suit fitting, which goes well and I leave with my first ever (well) fitted suit. Order a bike at the hostel, which turns up a few minutes later alongside a woman on a moped. Brakes barely work, but the ride to the beach is easy enough and I arrive drenched in sweat from the afternoon sun. As warned, I get a whistle blown at me, but I ignore and cycle on, parking my bike at Moon and Wind. Buy a beer and go for swim. The water is heavenly, turquoise and perfectly warm. Max messages and it turns out they just arrived and settled a little ways down the beach from me, so I set off and join him and Connie at The Shore Club. We chat about travel, mountains and life plans before Mary arrives. The sun is setting, painting the sky new shades every few minutes, necessitating multiple photo trips to the waters edge. More chatting and as dusk falls, I realise I left my flip flops at the Moon and Wind and I should probably cycle back soon before it gets too dark. A short trek later, I find my flip flops, pay for my earlier beer and cycle back in the encroaching darkness. Shower, meet Scottish Lewis in the room, then head out to Miss Ly, where Max and Connie arrive separately (their grabs dropped them at very different places) and everyone appreciates the food. We discuss our days and diabetes. Switch to a nice waterfront bar for an ok glass of Vietnamese wine, chatting and buying one of those flipbook things before we all head off. Walk back with Mary, then back to the hostel where I chat with Ly about her future before heading up for a shower.
Day 9
Wake slowly, again enjoying a lack of pressing matters. After breakfast, I head out to Le Gare for an excellent iced coffee with a bit of orange, followed by an interesting cream cheese coffee. Check out the Hoi An cultural museum, where no ticket check is made. Another stop for salt coffee (not great) and bahn mi at Queen (great) then back to the hostel as my ankle is hurting from the insect bites a few nights ago. Shower and chill for a bit, then head out to get my nails done, switching to Ukrainian yellow and blue to match the shirt I got from BeBe. Back at the hostel, I change and take a grab to the beach. The driver tells me how the fish have gotten smarter since he was a kid and are more difficult to catch now. Sit and read over a beer at roughly the same spot as yesterday. The sky is angrier and kites swirl on the wind, but still nice enough to swim and relax. After some Mahi-mahi and chips, I take another grab back in the darkness as lightning flashes in the distance. Another shower, then downstairs. Younger crowd playing cards, but I play a round of Cambio, then head outside to sit with Lang and 2 Australians. We discuss suits and my cat-dog service model, then settle into my natural state of chatting about travel, Berlin clubs and drugs for a few hours. An American girl staying somewhere else joins us and talks about the Hoi An mafia preventing grabs in certain areas at certain times, but I’m pretty sure they’re just guys being dudes. Several drinks later, we turn in.
Day 10
Wake a little later than planned, but downstairs for a quick pancake breakfast and chat with a kiwi. Dutch to the left of me, Spanish to the right. At 8am it’s 31 degrees and I mutter to myself that it’s fuck as hot, emphasising the heat. My right ankle still hurts a bit as Input on my shoes and jump on then shuttle bus to My Son. Lung, the tour guide is distressingly peppy as he explains the history of the region and “Mee Son”. After entering, we hop on a mini shuttle, then a short walk around the temple, then we head back to see a series of Champa dances. Back at the temple, artillery shells stand alongside Champa statues and a dragonfly lies exhausted on a plinth. Photos as the heat becomes all consuming, then back to the bus, where the air con brings respite. Rice paper making stop, then on to lunch. The American women are actually cycling up the country, which is pretty impressive. A precarious plank walk later and we’re on a boat, seeing Hoi An from another angle. The boat docks by essentially ramming the shore and short while later, we’re dropped back. I shower and head back to Le Gare for an avocado and dragon fruit smoothie and a read, then a wander along the waterfront for snacks before walking back to the hostel for a quick shower before dinner. Leo and Jonny rock up just as dinner is served and we chat with Australian Maddie about how the Australian language is becoming an entirely new language. Continue chatting with Maddie and the new Dutch guy as Johnny, then Leo head off. Maddie is tired from multiple days of travel, so taps out, I pre pack a little, then head out to join Johnny and Leo, who I find at the night market. After appropriate warnings, we head to Tiger Tiger for beers and balloons. After his balloon, Leo exclaims “It all makes sense now” and after his, Jonny simply spaces out. We transition to the Irish bar next door, picking up another balloon from the sketchy street seller he have been observing. Johnny quickly heads off because he’s “on it” and I discuss tech ethics and the dynamics of travelling while older with Leo then start guy watching as a guy (who we speculate is British based on his body language) starts pacing on the waterfront. We name him Xavier and observe before going doing to surreptitiously photograph the reflections and ask him what he thinks. “Its beautiful” he replies with a touch of venom, so we head back to the hostel, picking up a stubby along the way.
Day 11
Wake tired, but have time to shower and pack before breakfast. Johnny pulls up on his bike and we have a last chat and goodbye before my shuttle bus pulls up and I leave Lovely Hoi An with a touch of sadness. As we ride down long terraces lined with red and yellow hammer and sickles, I realise I’ll miss that too. We cross river, seeing the dragon bridge from a distance, more impressive now. After a stop at the train station, check in (allowed to take my suit bag as carry on) and immigration, I sit and read until boarding. One last hit of Vietnamese heat as we board the plane, then ascent, seeing the train route I took in, an island with a trail of boats leading from it the clouds swirling, white and angry all mixed up. The view outside turns to solid white and turbulence rattles the plane as I nap. Some reading later, out first view of Singapore is the construction sites of Tekong Island moments before we touch down. Automatic immigration and get out easily. Interestingly terrible UX at Changi as I follow several “Train to City” signs, with no mention that you still need to take a bus and a tram to get there. Along the way, I see a burger king in T4 where I sat learning german so many years ago. Funny how things turn out. A change later and I hop out at Bugis and walk to the hostel. Check in, and after an extensive walk through of the rules and associated punishments (unauthorized guests will be charged with criminal trespass, oh Singapore), recharge and shower, then out again. Hop on a bus to Clarke Quay to meet the group. Paul and Jiaci greet, I see Rene and two Brazilians from Bruna’s birthday. Get introduced to Paul’s dad and Torsten. We walk along the waterfront, following almost the exact same path I walked a 8 years ago. Jacked bird, Merlion, Jubilee Bridge (where we pick up Melody and Meta), DNA bridge (where we just miss some famous local ice cream) and the Marina Shopping Center, where we are surprised by echoes at the waterfall and finally part ways. I take a walk around the hotel, spotting service staff smoking out back, hidden from the public. A long walk back around the marina, stopping for a quick bite before hopping on a bus back.
Day 12
Wake disoriented, no sunlight to ground me in the capsule. Around 9 I head downstairs for breakfast (coffee, rice and a self fried egg) before showering and heading out. It’s raining and the streets are deserted as people shelter in the overhangs (that architectural detail making a lot more sense now). Grab some cendol because it looks interesting and walk towards Chinatown, stopping at a bustling market and a quiet coffee shop with bikes on the wall. Walk past the National Museum and into Canning Park, entering the tree tunnel to see a crowd of tourists. Walking back up, someone calls my name and its Wenjie! We chat a while and I meet his partner, before we part ways (they’re tired from travel, so are only taking a short walk). I walk to the fort gate and descend through the botanical garden into the city. Quick stop at the police station, seeing a lovecraftian sculpture, then onto the chicken place Jiaci recommended yesterday. Onto the office where I’m picked up by Jane and we chat over an expertly prepared coffee. Melody arrives followed a little later by Rene. We check out the office and absorb the views, commenting on the mix of mechanical and organic elements. Melody and I walk to the art museum, chatting about the (tense) relationship between Indonesia and Australia on the way. After missing the entrance the first time, we eventually find the Singapore Art Museum, confusing it for a somewhat colourful loading dock at first. The first exhibition initially strikes me with its dark and neon room, and despite it’s prominent featuring of teufelsberg, it fails to really grab my attention. Lia: Unending Play and Residues and remixes are great though, really doing some incredible stuff. Outside, backed by vast industrial machinery of the dock, an art piece depicts a spaceship stacked on thin wooden legs “What if Indonesia built a spaceship?”. We walk back to Chinatown to meet a few of Melody’s friends, also visiting for the wedding and order some beers. Move onto the next stop, where I bump into Jane and David (as planned) and we split off for Chinese BBQ. Jane laughs as she orders, ensuring us that we will receive authentic chinese food. David is amazed by the pull ring bottle opener and wears it as a ring for the rest of the night. Food is delivered, skewers stacked high, with lotus, gizzards and tripe all mixed in alongside enough spice to kill a German. We laugh and eat, comparing cultures and food, then onto the MRT and home.
Day 13
Wake a little late, bit fairly well rested. Breakfast, the out to get some (very expensive) snacks at a 7-11, passing some latin american graffiti, evoking what I saw in Buenos Aires so long ago. Shower back at the hostel, slow change of clothes then on the bus to the registry. People filter in as a bus station style ticker calls people in for paperwork. Eventually, we crowd into the small room and the ceremony (complete with Jiaci’s mum dialling in from Zoom) begins. It’s short and sweet, even accounting for a miswritten passport number. Outside, Jane catches the bouquet and we take photos on the lawn. A few of us split off and walk to a fancy restaurant for fancy cocktails and chips. We discuss Here, cameras and beer before splitting up. A short photoshoot later, I’m with Melody and Meta, heading to a quiet Indian cafe where we have (relatively cheap) beers and 1 (one) egg and discuss unionising, languages and the many crimes of the Dutch. “Nobody every got fired for blaming the dutch”. The cafe starts filling up with acrid smoke, so we head to the wedding reception. People are just starting to arrive, so we fix ourselves some drinks at the bar, “All of the people I would expect to be around the bar are around the bar”. Obviously, this is anti Australian/Irish discrimination, but rum and cokes take priority. The German influence is limited to a few wurst. Cynefin chats on the terrace and discussions of Singaporean rules and techno as it turns out Meta is also into Blawan. Drinks, karaoke and a drunken walk home.
Day 14
Wake late and tired, stumbling down to breakfast. After much needed coffee, I walk northwest to Apartment Coffee, where a friendly bartended gets me a lovely El Salvadorian coffee and complements my nails. The rain begins to pour outside. I hop on a bus to meet jane and few QAs for lunch at Gravy. Discuss Indian food over Indian food, before walking to Nylon for another great coffee, once again just dodging the rain. Walk to the sky garden, where the top floor is unfortunately “closed for works”, so I check out the garden on the 20th floor and am briefly disturbed by the presence of an “Ideation Nest”. I ride up to the 51st floor, where the garden is closed, but the bar is open, so I catch some spectacular views looking down on the Marina, ships dotting the horizon. Down at a hawker market, I get a pineapple juice from an angry Chinese man, then cross to the narrow streets where I stayed in my first trip to Singapore. The hostel is now a capsule hotel. Memories abound. A bus back to the hostel and a quick shower, before a longer bus ride to the pool party. Beers and bbq, then into the pool for more beers, fun with the floats and Barbenheimer Discourse. Beers become G+Ts and we discuss the Marriott hotel subreddit as the night winds down and we all eventually head back.
Day 15
Wake early and surprisingly well rested. Over a breakfast of bami goreng, the rain hammers on the roof, drowning out all else. Upstairs, I repack a little and rest before retrieving my shoes which are not in the locker I left them. After a long search, they are found, soaking wet on the back porch. Huh. A short walk to some kaya toast and coffee, then on the bus to Vivo City. I’m the first to join Jiaci at the fancy chinese restaurant, but others filter in and we enjoy a variety of bao and supposedly authentic food. On the monorail (meeting up with Thorsten on the way) to Sentosa, the rain is heavy and we need to carefully navigate even short, uncovered sections to the entrance of the aquarium. Lots of fish. Morays gasp at the water and clownfish dart around. The nightmare gallery showcases jellyfish and crabs, delightfully explaining their deadly capabilities. A vast tank shows draws crowds as fish dart around, apparently in a rush to get somewhere. Melody leaves after the aquarium and we take the (wrong and unbalanced) cable car to the beach, walking along the waterfront under grey skies. Ships in the background, artificially packed rocks in the foreground. After a few slips on the sand, we make our way back to Vivo City and a German restaurant, where we order a sharing plater of exactly the sort of food I’m going back to tomorrow. Like the Western Christmas Dinner at Goa, I realise how much I travel for a sense of novelty and how this stands in opposition to that. Still, tasty Wurst.
Day 16
Wake early and after a quick shower, I head down to a light breakfast and coffee in an empty room. Checkout and walk into the humid morning, beset by crossings on the way to the MRT and onto Changi. The Jewel hasn’t really opened yet, so after patching my suit bag (it got torn earlier), I check it and pass through the first of several security checks. The layered Changi security leads to me having my passport checked 4 times in 5 minutes. Efficiency or defence in depth? On the plane, I see 3 separate people watching John Wick Part 4 as I settle into reading Seveneves and fly back to Europe.