And here we have Mr Fogg in a cashmere suit in dark blue/black sporting a rather sexy single breasted jacket and fitted trousers. Having been made to measure the sleeve length is right for a change. The tailor said he made nice pleated trousers to accommodate Mr Fogg’s happy bump ( that’s a sign of good living apparently, although we can only assume what a happy bump is)

Just the ticket for job interviews and taking Mrs Fogg out for posh food in poncy restaurants

And the finished article for Mrs Fogg, purchased especially for her upcoming trip to Calcutta.

This two piece linen suit has a mandarin collar, shortened sleeves in sage green with black linen trousers, all made to measure.

I know that sounds like a catalogue advert doesn’t it. But check out that modelling pose!

Strange but true this picture was taken the correct way up, but when we viewed it, it became upside down. Either the effects of too much champoo the night before or the magic lift effect.

After a late rise this am (all checked in for the return flight last night, whilst we sipped champoo on the 24th floor, stood on the open balcony in the pouring rain surveying the city, very Bladerunneresque) we witnessed a slip of a girl no more than 7 stone, take 2 heaped plates of food and then 2 heaped plates of buns and cookies and devour the lot. Scrub that, she now also has a plates of toast, fruit and more buns as well (now I’m a fast eater but it is like a cartoon, mouth open tip plate contents in).

And what will we be doing today, go get our suits, then a womble to Clark Quay and hopefully a night flight in the Singapore Flyer, before packing cases in readiness for the 14 hour flight on Saturday at midnight.

Another fantastic day for Mrs Fogg and I, spent wombling around Chinatown then back to try our outfits on before the Teppanyaki at the Japanese in the hotel with a very delectable wife at my side sipping champagne as ever.

The Japanese restaurant was fantastic (thanks to the Caddies for the recommendation). We are now sat on the 24th floor of the hotel with a view of the night city and sipping yet more champagne, about to have a rude word scrabble contest!

At 11.45 we have to check back in for our flights (boo) and then we have only Friday and Saturday left to chill before we start the long trek back to Blighty.

Spotted this dolled up little car on the way back to the hotel. As if the pink and cream paintwork was not quite as stand out as it can get, the owner has also added the crown of the British Empire to the side and some lovely etchings onto the windows. Very pretty, hmmm.

This is designer town at it’s best. You can buy ANYTHING here at top price- designer labels galore.

We visited a tiny shopping mall today for our final suit fittings and ambled around the little local shops. All the dress shops were hand designed, but the shoes were amazing- none of your Stead and Simpsons here, all hand made in silks with lots of girly bows. Wonderful if you have child sized feet- untouchable with my boat sized tootsies.

Next stop is hopefully the Singapore Flyer at night- if it’s not raining tonight that is

This afternoon we had a change of plan and instead of Little India (which actually does not appeal too much) we came to Chinatown. Cool place, lots of little trinket shops to browse, a Tintin store (different, did not expect to find Tintin in Singapore’s Chinatown) and lots of clothes.

We managed about ten paces from the MRT before needing refreshment. Ah, a teeny bar, just the thing for some cool refreshment of a Tiger Beer for Mr Fogg and I just had to sample another Singapore Sling to see how it compares to the Raffles one (thank goodness it’s half the price too). Hmm, can’t quite decide which is better…..waiter can you bring me another hic!

Now I’m ready to shop…..

Yes another day another carpet. Somehow my sense of humour would make me want to put the wrong carpets down or different ones in each lift just to confuse holiday makers.

More walking planned for today to Little India and Chinatown and Mrs Fogg is raring to go after a foot massage at the hotel last night.

Tonight we go for our suit fittings (here’s hoping they measured right) and cook your own grub time.

Two more full days then back to blighty on the 14 hour flight, oh boy

So, in the immortal words of Rolf, can you tell what it is yet?

This lovely little gem was presented to Mrs Fogg in the Chinese restaurant in the hotel. We had a wonderful 7 course meal and the ubiquitous bottle of over priced boobly.

So what is it, Mrs Fogg did try biting it but immediately spat it out with the retort “ugh that’s orrible” and “what the hell is it” or to put it in Mr Fink terms, “its not nice and I don’t want it ever again, yuck”.

It was actually baby squid with jellyfish, which wasn’t too bad, but after the face and sounds that Mrs Fogg made they quickly removed it from the table.

An end to another fantastic day with Mrs Fogg in Singapore, where we toured the crappy Arab district, which even she would agree was awful and nothing like the guide books.

Tomorrow will see us at Little India, Chinatown, our suit fittings and a night time ride on the Singapore Flyer.

Morning kiddies, as you can see today is Wednesday (phew so glad they change the carpet otherwise I would never know).

Well Mrs Fogg has another fun packed day planned for us, walking, history, all the stuff I truly love to do.

We are halfway through our week so we have some more things to do on our top 10 of Singapore (where Mrs Fogg is getting a wee bit annoyed with the locals, when she asks them a question, they turn and answer me as if she is invisible, I have to restrain her from nutting them).

We forgot to tell you all about the trip over from the airport, so Virgin had laid on a local pickup company holding up our name on an A4 piece of paper (so easy to read), along with another couple. We duly waited where our transport asked, as he waited for the second couple. Forty minutes later and one empty conveyor belt the transporter decided he had waited long enough so off we trundled to the hotel (about 30 minutes from the airport). Later that evening we had a call from our transporter with very poor Hengrish, telling us that apparently the other couple had waited 2 hours at the airport for him, then had to get their own taxi and he was “vely vely hangri” and was “hannoyed” at being stranded by wirgin horridays. Ok so what did this have to do with us? consider to get this far in the conversation took 20 minutes. So my friend can you call Meesta Martin in room 2010 an tell heem we waited for heem and did not just leave. Right so what purpose would that serve, imagine if I called your room to say “nah nah nah nah, we got picked up from the airport and you didn’t, ha ha”. I really didn’t fancy sitting on the phone listening to someone complain that the lift didn’t wait for them because they were slow. Not to be brutal about it but if you are expecting someone else you don’t just naff off cos you is bored waiting, maybe you put out a tannoy call or send another vehicle up later.

In a cruel moment as we were sat in the lobby drinking a cup of tea we did consider charging our drinks to Meesta Martin in room 2010 or even better ordering a bouquet of flowers, sending them to Meeses Martin and charging them to the room with a card that stated, “with love from your transport service”, however common sense prevailed and stopped Mrs Fogg from doing either.

Oh well.