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Raffles Hotel
Beach Road side I make no secret of my enjoyment of Raffles Hotel in Singapore. Check out my previous account of Raffles "British Colonialism at Its Best," from May of 2009. If I could afford it, I’d stay there. Heck, if I could afford it I’d
live there. But, alas, it’s financially out of my reach. I can, however, shop in Raffles Arcade, visit their museum, and have a drink at the Long Bar.
So, I’m walking along Beach Road, headed for Raffles, intending to do a little window shopping, maybe pick up a souvenir. A young woman comes up to me and points to her wrist, as if asking for the time. I shrug, point to my watch-less wrist, and shake my head. “Etes-vous Francaise?” (Are you French?) she asks. “Non, je suis Americaine.”
She continues to speak to me in French; she has vaguely Asian features, but that doesn’t mean much. She could be Vietnamese, she could be French with Asian ancestry. I really didn’t care. We exchanged a few pleasantries, then I said “Have a good day,” and walked away.
I walked through Raffles and headed over to their gift shop. The last time I visited I saw
an old poster advertising trips on the Federated Malay States Railway. I was sorry I hadn’t bought it the first time I saw it, and I wanted to see if it was still available. It wasn’t, but I noticed the same young woman wandering through the shop.
I left there and headed up to the stores on the second floor. Soon I felt a tap on my arm, and my follower is right behind me. “Hello again,” she said. She attempted to engage me in conversation; I gave very short answers, and soon ducked into a store on the second floor. She didn’t follow, and I thought that was the end of it.
However, she was waiting for me when I left the store. This is starting to feel distinctly weird.
I get on the escalator to the third floor. The third floor is home to the Raffles Museum and Museum Shop, and is a great vantage point for taking photos. My stalker follows me up the escalator, talking about the Raffles Museum, asking if I had been there. As soon as I get off the escalator, I duck into the Museum Shop. She doesn’t follow, and
Garden Court
A cool oasis. I breathe a sigh of relief. Then I notice she is taking photos of me with her iPhone through the windows of the shop. This is major uncool, and I don’t like it.
I talked to the Raffles employee in the museum and explained the situation. “I’m not asking you to do anything right now,” I said, “but I want you to know that I am uncomfortable with this situation.”
He immediately asked if I would like to have Raffles Security accompany me when I was ready to leave. That sounded great, and I gratefully accepted the offer.
I found the Federated Malay States Railway poster in the museum shop. I paid for it, and a Raffles employee accompanied me out of the shop. Good thing, my stalker was waiting.
The Raffles employee and I entered the elevator, he pushed the button for the first floor, and no one else entered the elevator with us. However, the car stopped on the second floor, and guess what? My stalker is waiting.
The Raffles staff member immediately pushed the “Close Door” button before the woman could get on. We got to the first floor, and he walked
Clean paths
The constant work of keeping a grand hotel in the tropics in grand condition. me out of the hotel and across the road to the mall where the MRT is located. He made sure that I was comfortable that I wasn’t being followed.
“I don’t understand what she wanted with me,” I said. My escort, an older Chinese gentleman, replied “Maybe she like woman.” (For the record, I am enthusiastically heterosexual.)
This was a very strange experience, but I am blown away by the service and professionalism of the Raffles staff. Now if only I could afford to stay there….
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tammy
non-member comment
scary!
Ohhhh so scary!!!! This story was intense - being in a foreign country all by yourself and having a stalker?! Oh my gosh, be safe on the rest of your trip!