Sorry for the long spell of silence. Have been busy with work, life... stuff.
Anyway, I'm currently blogging from the Fairmont Hotel and guess what? I've been doing live reporting on the Singapore F1 night race.
I know - your first thought is probably - what the heck do I know about the F1? And you're not too far off the mark. When I was told of my assignment, my jaw literally dropped and I had to ask for time off to do research. And let me say it was not pretty - literally building up from ground zero.
I never knew such a sexy word as "chicane" existed. And now it's part of my vocabulary.
We've been reporting from the rooftop of Fairmont Hotel, which gives us a stunning view of the Marina Bay street circuit. If you're on my Facebook, you've probably seen shots of the circuit lit up at night. And we get up close to the action, hearing the roar of the engines of cars speeding pass. One word - exhilarating.
Of course, the same roar is not so fun when it comes to reporting live. I have to maintain a smile on my face, remember my lines, try not to wilt under the glare of the bright lights and contend with the overpowering scream of the race cars hurtling 300km/hour.
The first night, I was hit by a bolt of food poisoning just before going on air 4 times in a row. I think that qualifies as one of the worst nights of my life. I couldn't eat and could only force water down, I was pale and sweaty, the roof suddenly seemed very high above ground (and I don't have vertigo) and I had to grit my teeth.
I went home and puked that night. Well, I actually collapsed on my bed. ZW came over to comfort me and when he leaned over for a hug, I hopped up and projectile vomited. Not my best moment. Did I mention diarrhea?
I fell into a feverish stupor and waking up on Saturday morning, I looked like some creature that crawled out of the swamp. Half of me wanted to give up and call it quits, and the other screamed to get up (well, ZW did some screaming to). In the end, I stumbled into the toilet and stood in the shower until I felt better.
And surprisingly, I did. And I must say, it was worth the effort dolling up and standing up to the lights.
Well, it's the big race tomorrow, so fingers crossed that it goes well.
Anyway, I'm currently blogging from the Fairmont Hotel and guess what? I've been doing live reporting on the Singapore F1 night race.
I know - your first thought is probably - what the heck do I know about the F1? And you're not too far off the mark. When I was told of my assignment, my jaw literally dropped and I had to ask for time off to do research. And let me say it was not pretty - literally building up from ground zero.
I never knew such a sexy word as "chicane" existed. And now it's part of my vocabulary.
We've been reporting from the rooftop of Fairmont Hotel, which gives us a stunning view of the Marina Bay street circuit. If you're on my Facebook, you've probably seen shots of the circuit lit up at night. And we get up close to the action, hearing the roar of the engines of cars speeding pass. One word - exhilarating.
Of course, the same roar is not so fun when it comes to reporting live. I have to maintain a smile on my face, remember my lines, try not to wilt under the glare of the bright lights and contend with the overpowering scream of the race cars hurtling 300km/hour.
The first night, I was hit by a bolt of food poisoning just before going on air 4 times in a row. I think that qualifies as one of the worst nights of my life. I couldn't eat and could only force water down, I was pale and sweaty, the roof suddenly seemed very high above ground (and I don't have vertigo) and I had to grit my teeth.
I went home and puked that night. Well, I actually collapsed on my bed. ZW came over to comfort me and when he leaned over for a hug, I hopped up and projectile vomited. Not my best moment. Did I mention diarrhea?
I fell into a feverish stupor and waking up on Saturday morning, I looked like some creature that crawled out of the swamp. Half of me wanted to give up and call it quits, and the other screamed to get up (well, ZW did some screaming to). In the end, I stumbled into the toilet and stood in the shower until I felt better.
And surprisingly, I did. And I must say, it was worth the effort dolling up and standing up to the lights.
Well, it's the big race tomorrow, so fingers crossed that it goes well.
