Nevermind the time, what day is it? *Now with added photos*

[The time did indeed tick up to 7.00am and my flight out of Dubai. I've arrived in Singapore and so true to my word, I have added the photos. I have no idea what's going on with the caption format though. It's like a trip to the Opticians, seeing what line you can read.]

Time zones are weird things. Like for instance, right now where I am it's just after 4.00am. However, where I came from it's just after 1.00am. But I find that, however you work it out, you are tried. I got up at 5.45am this morning for a shower, which is seeming less and less like a good idea as it seems to have no bearing on me feeling rubbish now.

My flight isn't until 7.00am, so I've a few hours to kill yet. I'm listening to my iPod. On shuffle. I find that the best, all sorts of treasures. I've people watched, wondering where people are headed. And I've read a good 80 pages of the book I got in the airport, Danny Wallace 'Friends Like These', proving that I can read when I choose to, it's just a lot of the time I choose not to. Poor Barack Obama got taken on a lovely trip to France. Two weeks he was either in my backpack or by my bed (I feel the need to highlight that this was the book, not some sort of cardboard cut out) and he wasn't even opened. Not even to see where I got up to the last time I read him, which was probably January.

That leads me on France. That was the last you heard from me.

I never actually agreed to going to the Conference. Just saying, I don't think it will make you feel sorry for me or anything. My initial interest got turned into acceptance and by the time I had worked out that my name was put forward to the conference people, it was clear the ship had left the dock and it would have been rocking the boat to have it changed. Plus I'm a teacher and what else was I going to do with my summer? Oh yeah, Singapore and CHW. Unfortunately one of those had to give.

The conference schedule was jam packed. Again, I'm just saying, I don't expect, or believe you to feel sorry for me. So I'm glad I took the extra time to see a bit of Lyon and around, otherwise it would I would have seen nothing.

The conference was a learning curve of incredible steepness. Honestly, I had no clue what the whole thing was about when I started. By the end of it, I was actually enjoying it. And I know I wasn't the only one who felt like that. Crazy eh? My Twitter had an update which I think sums up the whole thing pretty well, so sorry if you follow me on Twitter (actually the two people I know still read this do follow me, sorry Ross and Karen) but I'm going to repeat it.

I'm sitting beside the Mennonite Church in the Netherlands. Yup, that's the first time I've ever said that.

It was the first time I really experienced the whole ecumenical thing. Wow. Once you get passed the politics, there is some really amazing things happening. I was glad of Team Ireland. We got on very well. Well come on, we have more in common than, oh, let's take one at random...I don't know...the Orthodox Church.

At the end of trip I had built in extra time (and one day of that was the 29th International Tina Day!) After a few mishaps reading days of the week in French (it had a lot to do with Mardi and Monday not being the same day), I spent one day back up at the park where the conference was. It's not a word of a lie to say that this was my favourite place in Lyon. So lovely.

There were nicer pictures of the park, which are much more parky looking. But I kind of like this one. Very Kramer v. Kramer don't you think? Or that advert from a few years back that I can't remember what they were advertising now. I want to say a bank, I don't know why.

On Tina Day itself I took the train to Geneva. I was excited to get a passport stamp on my birthday, but the flipping Swiss must have some sort arrangement with France that their people are ok. That, or I was in the country illegally. I'm opting for the first option. Geneva was nice, saw the Jet d'Eau without too much bother.

Whilst in the tourist office, a beacon shone out to me, a voice called me over, however you want to describe it I came upon the leaflet for the IOC Museum at their HQ in Lausanne, a mere 40 minutes away on the train I was assured by the woman in the tourist office.

Even a casual passer by to this blog will know what I did. Yup, hopped on a train and made my way to the coolest place I have ever been. It was amazing! I only wished mum had been there too, it would have been so much more excited to marvel over Carl Lewis' spikes and Shannon Mitchell's leotard with someone.

This is Usain Bolt's vest (it's a large, increase you ever wondered) and the 1992 US 4x100m relay baton. See this place really was for Olympic geeks like me.

Eric 'the Eel' Moussambani's speedos. (I didn't look for the size.)

My last full day in France, I had discovered was the same day that the last time trial of the Tour de France was not too far away in Annecy. I've never been that bothered by it before, but thought it was a good chance to see it. It was a fantastic day! Well, once I got there.

The legend that is Lance Armstrong. This was taken from the video I took, but I like the whooshiness of it. Did I just make up a word? I think I might have!

I had purchased my train ticket to discover it was a bus substitution. Grandio off I trotted to get l'autocar. But when I got there, I quickly detected that all was not well. I'd like to say it was my French skills, but body language is a wonderful thing. There were about 4 people trying to get on the bus, but not on the steps. There wasn't enough room. No one really spoke English and this trip had once again reiterated to me that I definitely do not speak French. But eventually, one girl (bless her heart) started trying to let me know what was happening. She didn't need to tell me I was part of a stand off. I took the decision early on to stick with the group, this was clearly my strongest position.

One man wasn't about to let the bus go. There was lots of hand gesturing and pointing to the ticket. I imagine he was was saying things like 'I am booked on this bus', 'I paid the same as everyone else!' because that's probably what I would have been saying. Although probably with less gesturing.

The stand off continued for over half an hour. You've got to love the French, they love a protest. The helpful man from SNCF came out and told us we could get the next train. Judging by the reaction, this was a non-starter. Anyway, clearly something was going to have to give.

Sadly, it wasn't SNCF offering another bus, a taxi or a refund. Nor was it us. It was some people on the bus who had a seat. They gave up. I guess they thought that the standoff would continue and they wouldn't get to Annecy any time soon so made alternative arrangements.

I was pushed to the front of the queue to get one of the newly available seats because I was English. I sensed this wasn't the time to quibble over nationalities. So I made my way up the steps and straight into the lions' den. Everyone, like everyone was standing up or peering to get a view and here I was getting on board. Oh. Die. I wanted to tell them 'Je suis anglais' but took my seat quietly lest I accidently insult their mother by my mispronunciation.

Thankfully, not two minutes later we were driving away. And the train ride home was lovely.

When travelling by train in a foreign country, well any country but especially a foreign country, there is nothing like the fear that comes across you when you pull out of the station the same way you came in. Thankfully we rode past this lake and I definitely would have remembered it the first time.

Sadly, tinternet connection won't let me upload photos here so you'll have to wait until I reach Singapore.

Which leads me to Singapore. Yes, I am on my way back, just for three weeks, mind. I have been luckly enough to go back to NC twice since I left it and so it is firmly established in my mind as a place I lived and worked in. Since I left Singapore in late 2007 I haven't been back. Doesn't seem like a whole lot, but my students will leave soon (if they haven't already - international schools are transient) and so if I am to see them again en masse a school visit makes the most sense.

In a weird twist, I am staying in exactly the same apartment that I first lived in when I moved out. The teacher I stayed with then doesn't live there anymore, but Clare does. I'm looking forward to spending time with her family again. I'm actually looking forward to the whole trip. No doubt you'll be hearing from me over the course of it.

That's assuming the time ever ticks up to 7.00am and my next flight.