Chinese Gardens with my boy

Just for a change I thought I'd post about the kind of thing I used to when I started this blog.
Last Tuesday I had the happy job of accompanying my son on only his second school trip. D had been counting down the sleeps until we travelled to the Chinese Gardens with his little classmates and was very excited. The excitement, I think, was borne not out of the Chinese Gardens themselves (he's been there a handful of times before) but the means with which we would get there. Not, as I assumed, by school bus. Oh no. By public transport. Now as we all know, public transport in Singapore is a breeze and taking a four year old boy on there poses no concerns on my part but taking nineteen excitable boys and girls on board may be a slightly different matter. Fortunately (for everyone concerned), I was not solely responsible for the entire number an indeed each child was required to have a parent or guardian in attendance. This was quite reassuring and I think everyone felt pretty confident that everything would be simple. That was, until, Mrs P. (D's class teacher) herded all the parents outside (to howls of derision from some of the kids in the class) to give us the a detailed blow-by-blow account of how the morning was going to unfold right from the point of leaving the sanctity of the school playground to the point where she could relinquish responsibilities once we were back on school turf. Don't get me wrong, I really like Mrs P. and think she's a fantastic teacher, but the calculated way in which she was telling us everything started to put the wind up us wide-eyed parents. I felt it was likely to be more of an education for us than for the kids by the sounds of things!
Anyway, briefing over and hand-in-hand with our charges (at all times, a very clear stipulation) we were handed plastic zip-loc bags of coins. All named with the mode of transport and the person (me or D) that had to use it. Now, I'd assumed we were just going to use EZ-Link cards as per usual but, oh no, we were paying cash. A first for me and for most of the other parents (those that had ever used public transport). And also, the kids would be paying. We queued for the bus which leaves from just outside the school gates, on the opposite side of the road. Lots of excited chatter from the kids. I took the bags of change form D and appropriated the amounts between us. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing (I guess they had been prepped at school). So, as the bus approached, 41 rustling plastic bags were opened to the tune of 'hold on to it tightly' and we boarded the bus. The look on bus captains face said it all. 19 kids all being lifted up to reach so they could deposit their coins then grab the ticket followed closely by their guardians doing likewise (without the lifting in most cases) and shouting 'go and sit down'!

Finally we were all on, paid and accounted for (I'm pretty sure Mrs P. has a built-in child-aware abacus in her head). And we were. A maximum 5 minute ride to the MRT station. It must have taken twice that time to get everyone on board! But of course, it's all about the experience. Spontaneous outbreaks of 'wheels on the bus' and waving to the school as we depart. Five minutes later and much to the relief of captain we disembark and (hand-in-hand) make our way to the station which, once on the train, will take us straight to our destination. Up we go to the ticket hall, cash bags distributed accordingly, and try (myself included) to work out how to purchase a one-way ticket to the Chinese Gardens (for it is the name of the MRT station). A few buttons later and we are geting there, 'money goes in that hole and press that button and wait there for the ticket', D tells me. Sure enough, the ticket appeared 'there' so I took it. AT this point in proceedings an MRT operative to get things moving and once we had all paid up shepherded us up the next set of escalators and on to the platform. We didn't really need the help to be honest and you couldn't help wondering if he was just more concerned about getting the hoard on the next train and off his station/hands.  Well, we didn't have to wait long (trains every two minutes at that time of the day) and once Mrs P. had used her kiddy-radar to asses numbers we boarded the train. Remarkably there were seats available so, within a few seconds every child took up the time honored position of knees on seat and facing out of the window. We were nearly there with the kids loving every minute of the journey. Off at the Chinese Gardens (hand-in-hand) and time for the obligatory group shot and also the obligatory crying child refusing to play ball (not D!).
Then the walk down to the gardens themselves, over the bridge ('look at the water monitor lizard, daddy', being one of those expressions you never thought you'd hear from your offspring, but now do with surprising regularity) and on towards the pagoda where we stop for snacks. Well, most of us do but one of the dads has left son's snack-pack in his school bag (not required for this trip) and son is very, very hungry. 'D, can your friend have some of your snack, please?'. 'No', comes the reply! Well, you know who your mates are!
After finishing snacks (and sneaking out some of D's leftovers for his mate) we wobble across the stepping stones and on towards the other side of the park. There's some moaning about tiredness starting to break out and we are on a mission to get to the car park where the school coach is waiting (I wasn't aware we were getting the coach and am somewhat relieved, thinking we were on for the return trip on the MRT/bus). Still time left for the kids to break rank and  charge over the bridge giving Mrs P. mild palpitations as she knows the other side is very steep. Amazingly all the kids negotiate it with no skinned knees or crying and we are nearly home and dry. Just the head count on to the coach and we are there. Homeward bound. And tired out!