SINGAPORE. Fri. May31, 2013

       Well – today we bought a wheelchair!  This is what has been in the air for days. We discovered several days ago that my electric scooter doesn’t work because it doesn’t charge. With its weight and lack of manoeuvrability –  it all adds up to a big mistake to bring it at all.  Bruce was keen to get a wheelchair that would fit under a bus or in a taxi if needed, so he could see I got off the ship in the remainder of the 42 ports we visit.

Remember we went to see the doctor for a recommendation to borrow a wheelchair so I wouldn’t be marooned on board ship? Yesterday the lady who deals with customer services to acquire stuff contacted us and said she had an offer available to us in Singapore. A firm who supplies these kinds of requests was willing to rent us a wheelchair for the rest of the cruise – on board and off ship – for $300. At the end of the cruise it would stay on board and belong to the ship.  We thought about this and Bruce was keen to get one we could  keep after paying for it.

He explained at dinner to our friends at table that if my legs got worse in the next four or five years, it would be good to have a wheelchair so he could push me when we wanted to go places. ‘Five years?’ I said. ‘And how far can you  see yourself pushing me when you’re eighty-eight?’

The Princess Ships’ Agent in Singapore supplied the ship’s officer with a list of five addresses where we could buy a wheelchair. So off we set. Bruce determined and caring, and me getting along on my walking frame with lots of stops for breathers.

The taxi driver quoted a price for the closest place and we had an interesting sightseeing trip of maybe twenty five minutes through the city of Singapore till he dropped us at a large business complex. He assured us this was the address.

We had no name of this business we were looking for. Just an address. And the fact it sold wheelchairs.  The girl in the Deli France could tell us she thought it was down on Basement One Level. We found a lift, and Basement One proved to be a collection of shops around the central courtyard with lots of splashing waterfalls and little lakes.

A furniture store like Harvey Norman; a couple of food shops like Kentucky Fried and Macdonalds (we noted its location for later – a ‘friend in need’); a few non-descript stalls of clothing and knick-knacks. We wandered along and eventually spied “Rehab Mart” above a small store in the distance.

Yes. This was the wheelchair shop. The young woman was helpful and we decided on a comfortable and light-weight chair made in Thailand.  The one made in China was cheaper but heavier and didn’t move as smoothly. She assured us several times this one had a type of ‘power-steering’!

The cost? It was on special at the moment. Now $295. A good buy, with another $15 off at the GST refund office.

It was then that we realized we had a problem of too many ‘vehicles’. If Bruce pushed me in the wheelchair, what would we do with the walking frame?

And then we also had my walking stick. We discussed several systems and then retired to Macdonalds for coffee and a snack while we thought about it.
            Macdonalds was interesting. It was about midday by now and there were lots of girls in different school uniforms having lunch in threes and fours. There were several lots of boys of different age groups and in different uniforms.  All neat and tidy. Some of the boys in white shirts and white pants with black ties had those little black hat things on. We guessed they must be Muslim students. At least that’s what they looked like. Some of the girls had those scarf things over their heads as part of their uniforms too. Then along came mixed groups of older boys and girls with bags of books. No uniforms and poring over some problem on a note pad while they waited for friends to arrive with their lunch. Uni students? All in all a fascinating time for an old school teacher as I sat there waiting for Bruce to materialize with our coffee and lunch.

           

Now to our main problem:

Could we fold the walking frame and put it across my knees in the wheelchair? We experimented and in the end put it in front of my legs and I wheeled it by its handles in front of the wheelchair.  Bruce pushed the wheelchair, and me, and I pushed the walker.

Of course we only had to go down to the lights on the main road and there we would find a taxi rank just on the right. We ran off the path a few times, got the walker tangled in my legs and had to disassemble everything when we came to a crossing with a step down the gutter.

The lights – and no taxi rank! We made our haphazard way along the footpath in hope. More lights. Round a corner. This road was even busier. Buses, trucks, cars and taxis all wizzed by on the four lane road. Double yellow lines on the edge of the road.

Bruce tried to hail a few whizzing taxis. No response. On we struggled – by this time in the Singapore sun. We came to a walled off construction zone. I waited in a bit of shade with all ‘our vehicles’ while Bruce went on ahead to see what he could find.

            An angel in a yellow industrial vest of some sort appeared from somewhere in the construction zone. I guess I looked a little strange parked on the side of a four lane highway: an older lady on her own on a busy road, sitting  in a wheelchair, with a walking frame attached.

            “Can I help you?” he said.

            “We need a taxi.”

            “I can help with that.”

            “My husband has gone on ahead to see if he can get one.” He was so sure of his offer I had mental pictures of him sending me off in a taxi in my own. If only!

            “I’ll find him.”

            “He has a bright blue shirt on.” (His tropical Hawaiian shirt. The only one around I was sure.)

            Our angel disappeared in the direction Bruce had gone. They both reappeared and Yellow Vest dived out onto the road, jumped around, waved both arms in the air and made emphatic signs to pull in.

            And a taxi did just that.

            It was wonderful to sit in the air-conditioned cab while we wound our way back through the city with all our ‘vehicles’ stowed on board. One more trek through the Cruise Terminal with our unusual line of ‘vehicles’ - zigzagging our way to the gangway where one of the crew in a blue vest emblazoned with a white wheelchair took over.  These young, ultra fit demigods are just there to help any passenger who needs it.

            He wheeled just me and the wheelchair in through the ship, up in a lift, and right to our cabin door. Bruce followed with the walking frame.

            It was so nice to be ‘home’.

            What an exhausting day we had. We both took little time to flop on our bed and sleep.

And that’s what we saw of Singapore.