Our journey home began with a short hop from Vilnius to Helsinki; from there, unlike all our long hops on the route to Europe, the 11 hours to Singapore were undertaken without exit-row or bulkhead seats to benefit our respectively long and dodgy legs. Happily, we slept a few hours each, which was unlikely to be the case for the neighbours of a hard-drinking, Putin-T-shirt-wearing Russian passenger a few rows forward, who was eventually refused further service from the trolley. Like our stopover in Malmo, Singapore was intended mainly as rest and only a little recreation, to break up the long journey home. We were surprised to hear from our taxi driver from the airport to the rather classy Goodwood Hotel (taxis are cheap there) that we had arrived in the middle of the Deepavali (called
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