Board Walk

I just went to the HSBC Tree Top Walk.

I sound less than excited about it, but that's because I had such high hopes for it. I think I was thinking somewhere along the lines of the Bird Park. You know, that huge aviary they built with all the birds flying overhead, the waterfall and the mist. Ok there couldn't possibly be mist 'cause that comes from the waterfall, and there couldn't possibly be a waterfall in the middle of MacRitchie (that we know about). So, yeah. But the birds? Where were the birds? We hardly saw any of them. I did spot a bunch of ants huddled on a fence, though.

Oh well. That's what happens when you get weaned on such pseudo-scenery, on television and at tourist attractions. Silly me. In any case, it was a pretty nice way to spend a Saturday morning - if you discount the fact that I received a (self-requested) morning call at 6.17am. And that I climbed undulation over undulation, causing me to pant, embarrassingly enough, and huff in front of more well-conditioned bodies. Who happen to be my friends. It was so bad at one point one of them asked me, "Eh, when was the last time you exercised?"

To which I retorted, last week, which is true, but I neglected to mention that that was the ONLY voluntary exercise I'd done in the past, oh, month or so (bugger. This entry tells me it was even longer ago). But he'd already beat a hasty retreat. (Well not really, in reality we were rather nice and joke-y about it. I just wrote it that way for dramatic effect. But you didn't need to know that, did you? I need to stop providing so many details.)

And like clockwork, I have digressed from my topic again. So, morning call, we meet up (all were late, some more so than others), and we walk. It was magical. I mean, how else can you describe the phenomenon where, the precise moment you know you're entering some place that has no loo for a couple of kilometres at least, your bladder screams to be relieved of its load??

Thus burdened, we (Da Hua was similiarly afflicted) tried to seek refuge at SICC. Chye tried to get us to use the worker's canteen, but nooooooo, we foolishly chose to "try our luck" with the friendly security guard standing across from the carpark, in front of the private bowling alley.

"There are no toilets here," so he began, before catching himself and saying "no public toilets here." Effectively, this meant we had to cross the length of that carpark, filled with snobbish-looking cars, twice. All this while my bladder aching with each belaboured step I took, issuing its threat to burst, right there and then. What to do, the owners of the snobbish-looking cars paid good money to come and bowl in the middle of a primary rainforest. We had to respect their rights.

To the humble workers' quarters we came, then, and I waited my turn in front of the ladies'.

All the while it took me to take this picture, I heard nothing.
So I waited.
I heard someone from within hack up some phlegm, and spit it out.
Then, the long-awaited flush! My bladder almost leaked in its rejoice.
And then, I waited somemore.
From within, a tap is turned on and water starts to to run.
The lady just started her morning shower, dammit.

Thankfully, the kindly uncles seated around the area suggested that I use the gents' which I gratefully obliged. The one that showed me to the door even stood guard outside to make sure no one entered while I was still in there. Shame on me for checking to see if my purse was still there when I was done letting out my pee, and bless those uncles for saving me from having to drop my shorts in the bushes in sheer desperate agony.

Finally, we were on our way again to the suspension bridge that was the Tree Top Walk. A kilometre's walk and a hundred metres' steep incline later, we were finally there.

And, 250 metres later, we were done with it. Just like that. I didn't even take any pictures once I got on the bridge itself, because there was a couple tailing very closely behind me. That's the problem with one lane, one-way traffic, innit?

This was taken while we were taking a breather, a decision made when we saw before us an ascending flight of seemingly never-ending stairs:

But when we exited the trail the sky and were preparing to get some munch, the sky looked like this:

And it stayed that way the rest of the day, impending-but-never-quite-getting-there kind of rain. Maybe that's why the monkeys didn't come out and greet us?