The One Where Kylie Is An Absolute Idiot (or "How to enter a country twice in one day")

I know I'm a bit late in posting this, but hey, better late than never. I've been a bit busy lately with school and house-hunting, neither ventures being very successful if truth be told, but it's meant I haven't been keeping up with the blogging. I have actually now got a few posts on the go, and was going to abandon this one, but hey, I know how much you enjoy a laugh at my expense, so here we are... The flight back from Australia was relatively uneventful. First of all, the dreaded farewell at the airport was not as bad as it usually is. Usually, it goes like this: the quiet tapering off of conversation in the car on the way to the airport, as each passenger contemplates the inevitable, followed by the long queue to check in (usually with Dad for moral support, coupled with the obvious questions of 'Have you got your passport?"), then the (if it can be possible) even longer queue for a coffee at the one and only coffee place left open in the food court this late at night, followed by strained conversation over our 'last supper'. This is then usually broken by Mum with comments of 'ooh Kyles, they're boarding in 60 minutes... 50 minutes... 45 minutes... maybe you'd better get going', after which we make the slow and horribly painful walk to the 'flood' gate - so named because of the floods of tears experienced once we're there. But this time I was determined it would be easier. First of all, on the way to the airport I told Dad to just drop me off and go, no coffees this time - and he was ok with that - but then promptly changed my mind. Just as well, because while we were in the check-in queue, Louise phoned to say that she and Sheldon were in the neighbourhood and were popping in to say goodbye. This turned out to be the best thing, because their presence and good natured chat lightened the mood and thus the 'flood' gate did not live up to its name, and instead became the 'departure' gate this time. Thank you Lou and Shel. Anyway, on the first leg of the journey I had an aisle seat next to a fairly antisocial bloke who slept for most of the flight, which meant that he didn't disturb me with loo visits and so on. This allowed me to get a little sleep, which I really needed, as I would only have a few hours in transit in Singapore before the final 14 hour or so leg back to London, and I had made plans to meet Jun for a coffee at the airport so we could discuss the upcoming Sweden trip. This was no mean feat actually, our breakfast meeting, as for this to take place, it meant that I had to fill in an immigration card and formally enter Singapore, just so I could go landside and meet Jun in the arrivals hall. I duly fill in my card, go through the gates and so on, and we meet up. We went upstairs to Starbucks and were there for some time chatting about the plans for the Sweden trip. It sounds like its going to be a good one too, so stay posted here on kmuki.blogspot.com for the reports, which will be in February. We chatted for about an hour or so and then it was time for me to leave Singapore, go airside and board the plane. Jun walked with me to the departure gate, said farewell, and off I went. I handed in the little white portion of my landing card so I could leave Singapore, got stamped out, and headed off to do some last minute shopping. It would only have been about 10 minutes later, when I was rummaging around in my bag to get my purse, that I suddenly had that terrible, gut-wrenching, sinking feeling as I realised something was horribly wrong. Horribly wrong! I was missing... .... my camcorder and camera! Oh no! Where could they be? I frantically searched through my backpack, flinging undies and all sorts out of the bag, in the hopes that they were tucked in behind something, but no, they weren't there! And I knew I'd had them with me when I got off the plane, because I'd taken them out of my backpack as they were just a bit too bulky, and were poking into me, and I'd slung them around my neck! And Mel and Beck and everyone had 'borrowed' them at our farewell at Enchilada's and left little messages and pictures on them - which I now wouldn't get to see! Aaaaggghhh! Mass panic! More frantic flinging of stuff! So I quickly get back on the phone to Jun, who was by this point now driving out of the airport. "Jun, did I leave my camcorder bag at Starbucks? Can you please run back and check?!" Jun, being the gentleman that he is, turned the car back around and headed back to Starbucks, whilst I literally (and I mean, literally) flew through the airport, scribbled out another immigration card, ran back into Singapore (hurriedly answering the customs dude's questions - hurry up fella!) and raced back up to Starbucks, only to see a man walking off with my camcorder! Stop, stop, STOP! That's my camera! Luckily for me the man was Jun! Phew, what a relief - I could've kissed him, I was so pleased that he'd got my camera (and how lucky was I that it was still there eh?). Another quick set of goodbyes, quick stamp of the passport, and I was back airside (with just enough time to make it to the departure gate!) Seriously, if my head wasn't screwed on...