Ah, a man after my own heart!
Comfort and luxury all the way! In my early childhood we had an outhouse. No desire whatsoever to go anywhere near that again. Worked all my life to get away from that. I leave it to those born with a silver spoon.
We were once in a Shangri-La hotel in Singapore (five star) and in a momentary lapse of reason succumbed to that mantra "do as locals do" and asked the cab driver to take us to an authentic Chinatown restaurant. The moment we stepped out of the cab and looked inside, we realized our mistake and started running back to catch the same cab. For those who've never been to Singapore, it is a part of town where sewage can still be found flowing in the middle of the street.
My one time in Singapore was in '84 for part of an '85 calendar. My client demanded we go to Raffles and have a "sling", which we did. The drink was expensive rubbish, and the hotel, at that time, reminded me of an Indian railway station. I'm told it has since been renovated - possibly more than once.
Two things that made Singapore special for me: no chewing gum on the streets; no-tipping policy encouraged in hotels and bars. I have always felt awkward about tipping, feeling it demeaning to the recipient and annoying to myself, for I'd rather pay the same total without the pressures and the real or imaginary sense of obligation beyond the call of duty! People should be paid a proper wage.
The single thing about that trip that rankles still is that the calendar didn't use any of the shots made on one of those fishing hut structures built out at sea on stilts - I think they were called keelongs. For me, the best shots of that entire trip were made there, even if I did rip off Sam Haskins for one series by being unable to resist using some coloured fish on a string held over the model's shoulder. Sadly, the trannies were not used, and I never got any back. That was a pretty goddam miserable thing to do to any photographer.
Regarding doing what the locals do: most of the ones I know here go to the same restaurant I do: the French guy's. His
rapport prix qualité is unbeatable. You won't get in for Sunday lunch unless you have booked. I have tried the smaller, cheaper restaurants and I know why they are cheaper. Forgeddit! The more expensive are for tourists who get what tourists expect and pay through the nose for the opportunity.
Rob
P.S.
Guess what - just spent ten minutes scraping gum off the sole of my shoe - must have happened when I went for my walk yesterday afternoon; it was covered in dry grass, which tells me I must have stepped onto the lawn, too, or picked it up feeding the horse who appears to have freed herself from the rope that kept her away from the fence for a week or two...
Filthy habit.