C L A R I T Y
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Female. 17. Someone who needs this blog because - I don't always say what I mean and I don't always mean what I say. And here I let it all out. Living life and loving it. <3
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Looking back, I think the Newton MRT station is a cursed place for me.
Buses 66, 67, 170 and 171 all take me to the MRT station, of at least; nearby. And all its stops are in different locations. Or at least, I alighted at different locations. Of the five times I attempted to take a bus to said station, I had to take a second bus to correct my position four times. Out of those four times, I had my guidebook with me thrice. The remaining one time left me in panic.
I got off the bus at the bus stop reading Newton Food Centre. Since the word Newton was there I assumed it was the right place. Unfortunately for me, both sides of the bus stop was nothing but main roads, with no hint of signs pointing towards MRT stations. I walked to the bus stop further up before realising I had overshot, and had to take a bus going in the opposite direction. I had to walk half-way back, climb the overhead bridge and trudge my way to the bus stop in which I spent another 15 minutes waiting for the next bus. It doesn't sound that bad if you don't consider the blistering sun and the ten pound laptop weighing on my shoulder along with semi-high heels. Stupid, I know; but my sense direction would probably shame a monkey. I mean, how many monkeys do you know get lost in car parks? Nada.
I'm just relieved I can read maps. It takes me a while, though - but being a directionally-challenged-map-reader somewhat makes me feel slightly happier.
7:42 AM
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Looking back, I think the Newton MRT station is a cursed place for me.
Buses 66, 67, 170 and 171 all take me to the MRT station, of at least; nearby. And all its stops are in different locations. Or at least, I alighted at different locations. Of the five times I attempted to take a bus to said station, I had to take a second bus to correct my position four times. Out of those four times, I had my guidebook with me thrice. The remaining one time left me in panic.
I got off the bus at the bus stop reading Newton Food Centre. Since the word Newton was there I assumed it was the right place. Unfortunately for me, both sides of the bus stop was nothing but main roads, with no hint of signs pointing towards MRT stations. I walked to the bus stop further up before realising I had overshot, and had to take a bus going in the opposite direction. I had to walk half-way back, climb the overhead bridge and trudge my way to the bus stop in which I spent another 15 minutes waiting for the next bus. It doesn't sound that bad if you don't consider the blistering sun and the ten pound laptop weighing on my shoulder along with semi-high heels. Stupid, I know; but my sense direction would probably shame a monkey. I mean, how many monkeys do you know get lost in car parks? Nada.
I'm just relieved I can read maps. It takes me a while, though - but being a directionally-challenged-map-reader somewhat makes me feel slightly happier.
