So the power is out on the morning that we are due to fly to Singapore. Subsequently, this led me to limp up and down Orchard Road for two hours, trying to find a pair of size ten women's shoes from a series of unsympathetic, tiny-footed sales people who looked at me in horror, with, 'No, we don't have shoes to fit you, you big footed freak' in an invisible thought bubble from their mouths.

Now the link between a power outage at my house and shoe buying may appear tenous at first glance, but bear with me...

In a moment of abject stupidity, I had planned a trip overseas in the middle of a post graduate course with two papers due around the time of that trip. I had planned to write the conclusion and send one of them via email that morning. But the power was out (see above) and I immediately lost all sense of reason and order. I forgot to pack my trip shoes, instead taking some strappy sandals that I thought would do the trick.

Off we went, and with only a couple of our traditional, furious arguments in the departure lounge, we were on the plane and in the air. What a great flight (to be continued.) We arrived safely and with my strappy sandals began what turned out to be an epic walking tour of Singapore. We, I should clarify, consists of myself, a 30 something Australian, and my boyfriend, also a 30 something Aussie. At home we have three cats. This is something that grates on my very soul (but also another story for another time.)

My feet seem to have latent blisters, ready to burst through at any opportunity and cause me immense pain. True to form, after a surprisingly short time they made an appearance causing me to immediately kick myself with my anguished feet. I bought some thongs that lasted about three hours then I found holes in new parts of my feet. Orchard Road beckoned but it was filled with evilly smiling sales people and small shoes. In the end I bought a pair of the ugliest shoes I have ever seen for a large amount of money. No surprises what happened about three hours after putting them on. Sigh...

In the end the bandaid shops in the city made a good profit from me and we discovered the delights of the MRT system. This had a two fold effect of saving my feet and making us completely unhappy with every single aspect of our own public transport system. The MRT is a miracle of clean, airconditioned and impeccably reliable transportation.

The irony that seems to accompany me on my life's journey is that I found a hugely comfortable pair of shoes in the airport while waiting to board the plane to bring us home.

So the moral of the story is, avoid post graduate education at all costs. And pack the night before.