Some time on Wednesday, or perhaps on Tuesday night, the haze rolled in from Sumatran forest fires, and the sky’s been a muted insubstantial blue ever since, which isn’t as bad as it sounds, because when it’s gloriously blue, it also tends to be gloriously hot, and I then get ingloriously sweaty.
Walking along East Coast Beach on Wednesday, on the way to dinner with Luke, Zakir and Walter, I passed an incomplete pier, where people were ignoring OB signposts, maybe because it’s nicer to dangle your feet over the edge without railings in the way.
We got dinner from the hawker centre and found a bench near the shore. Nasi goreng (Malay fried rice, red, spicy and scrumptious), apple pearl tea, sea breeze, quirky conversation and REM’s I’ve Been High playing somewhere in the back of my head. Nice.