Further adventures with Tiger Balm

The last thing I did before I went to bed last night was to rub Tiger Balm into my aching thighs.

The last thing I did before going to sleep was to writhe for two hours, my thighs burning from the heat of the Tiger Balm.

Pain

I got up at 6:20 this morning and went for my Sunday constitutional, a 90-minute run that took me 6 kilometres down the river and back, round the Marina bay, culminating in me getting lost and running around Clarke Quay like a deranged fool.

This afternoon, we walked over to Fort Canning, photographed a lizard clinging to a tree, visited a mall to inspect the 100% tax Singaporean shopkeepers seem to be trying to levy on camera gear, and then walked home again. I didn't feel too bad, except for my calves, which felt like somebody had attacked them with a knife. So we decided it would be wise to go for a foot massage.

Bent out of shape

I woke at six this morning, body racked with pain. My back is nothing but a mess of kinked muscles, bent out of shape by sleeping in too-soft beds, and once it's bad, I can't sit, I can't stand and I can't lie down without being in excruciating pain.

Balls to dogs

Today we drove the Black Boat, our unfeasibly large hire car, to my wife's cousin's place. There was her, three of her kids, two befuddled cats, a toy poodle, a rabbit and a Great Dane, all incredibly excited to see us.

Massages

Today I had a two-hour massage. Before I moved to Hong Kong, I always thought there were certain ... connotations to being massaged in a darkened room by somebody you've never met before.