Singapore Sling

I flew to Singapore from Jakarta on Thursday evening, the reason being to get a 60 day business visa for Indonesia. Slung out so I can sling back in.

The trip to the airport wasn't the usual jam of traffic all the way, but this time I had to deal with a cab driver who had obviously been working far longer than he should. He was visibly drooping and half way to the airport his eyes started clamming shut. Plus he was belching constantly from his lunch, much of which I could smell too. Didn't know people ate seaweed here (that's what it smelt like).

I killed a few minutes at Starbuck's then checked in. The airport surcharge is now 150,000 rupiah (15 USD), which I think is more than I paid last time. Strange how airport taxes and surcharges seem to be charged twice nowadays - first by the airline, then by the airport. Anyone any idea who's scamming here?

The flight, courtesy Air Asia, was late again - this time by a full hour. But at least the ground staff kept to their routine and didn't bother telling passengers waiting at the gate.

Crushed knees for 90 minutes and then we were in Singapore. Pulled some cash (I still have some) and got my passport fotos for the visa from a foto kiosk in 90 seconds. Much easier than hunting in a shopping mall in Jakarta for a foto shop.

Fast cab ride into Chinatown and my usual hotel, the Royal Peacock. Dump bags, check the internet, fall asleep.

Friday morning I had everything ready for the visa agent, then met with a couple of people during the day.

In the evening I walked the full length of the main road from the bottom end of Chinatown (where the hotel is) to Chijmes, which is a church-turned-restaurant complex, down the road past Raffles Hotel, past the War Memorial and the rest of the strtuctures people were dismantling after the recent Formula One race, through to the Esplanade.

The Esplanade is Singapore's main theater complex, its twin roofs a light studded carapace that looks for all the world like the backs of two gigantic wood lice. I had never been her before I was hunting for some good shots of the roof. That can't be done from close up (you need to be in a higher building) but there is a wonderful walkway around the structures that leads you to the original 'pool' or harbor.

On the outer rim the casino complex is going up (so far it looks weird); this was where the ship we traveled on from Sydney to Genova was moored. With the three main towers of the casino complex going up, the whole pool now looks hemmed in, a tranquil lagoon ideal for water sports (get ready for power racing).

This is the period of the mid-autumn festival, so here there are several free performances of puppets, jugglers and musicians. I hing around one of them waiting for the sun to set, the night to cover the sky with a blue-purple mantle and the lights to blaze from the skyscrapers in the Central Business District - a perfect evening shot of Singapore.

Later I wandered around the Esplanade, then retraced my steps back to the hotel.

Downloaded fotos, showered, checked internet and went out for a drink. Not much into clubbing so was soon back at the hotel seeing if I'd taken any good fotos. Maybe a couple.

Saturday is an obligatory easy day, with many hours in the airport waiting for my flight. I could have wandered around Singapore some more, but the clouds are heavy and I'm not into shopping or stuffing myself with food. So better to do the airport sit-out.

Back home again

Earlyish flight home. The rain was pounding down so it was good I left the hotel early; and of course all the streets are being reconfigured because tomorrow is Singapore's first Formula 1 Grand Prix. I'll be able to see it from home and point out all the curves and sights seeing (ad nauseam) "that's the ... and here I was only yesterday when I ....".

George came out to see me off, which was really sweet of him. I managed to make a scene at Starbuck's because the table I put the coffee on tipped and sent the coffee flying - over my trousers too. I was completely "prima donna" about the whole episode, in part because the service was already poor (waitress more interested in doing things other than serving). Thr manager came out, gave me a new coffee and a voucher for another for me to use -which since I'm sure I had embarrassed George enough (I was even embarrassing myself) I gave to him.

Usual long, cramped flight home with dead time in airports.

Bungee jumping in Singapore!

Last day of work done, I had dinner out with George, whom I had first met yesterday. Dinner was after my convincing him to clamber aboard the mini-bungee apparatus that is mounted at the end of Clark's Quay.

This version is an open 'barrel' of a three-seater, with a great stanchion underneath it to hold it down as the elastic cords are tensioned. With a click the stanchion unhooks and the barrel is sent hurtling up into dark space before being tossed down to the deck, bouncing back up to be tossed down again several times until the cords exhaust themselves of their energy and the barrel comes to rest - though its temporary passegers don't.

George hadn't done this before so it was yes-no-yes-no until he gave in and I got to mix up his innards for a few minutes. A short while in the queue - front of the queue mind you, along with a delightfully vivacious French lady as passenger number three - and we were ushered up to the platform. There we were made to take our personal effects out of our pockets and put them in a large plastic box at the front of the stage. Very theatrical - is this how people felt when being led to the scaffold, block or guillotine, I wondered. Buckled in, with the lady between us, and in short order we were taking a closer look at the stars. Then the deck, the river, the stars again, the deck ..... wel you know how it goes.

George's body was suitably shook up and he was definitely wobbly as he unbuckled from his seat. Me too - in fact I felt queazier than the last time I did this in Monaco a few years ago. Anyway, George was over the moon figuratively) after this and was bouncy all through dinner at the Italian restaurant nearby. Good - I always enjoy how people act when they've done something they never thought they'd do. The realization of achievement is a great thing to feel for oneself and see in others.

We said our goodbyes at the MRT - first time I'd been on it today and it really is good, almost better than the HongKong one - headed for the hotel and crashed out.

Reflections on Indonesia

Today it was fly-back-to-Singapore day, as I had arranged some more business there before heading back home. As the last time, Ilham came to the airport to see me off, which is a real pleasure. You know you have a friend when he does that for you.

Didn't do much work this time round, only a couple of meetings, but it was as interesting and as rewarding being in Indonesia and Jakarta the first time round.

I am beginning to get a real appreciation for the quiet pride and confidence the Indonesians have in themselves. Although not a nation in the formal way it is now, Indonesia always had a very high level of culture and society from very early times. Both its pre-Islamic and Islamic origins are obscured to the general world view by its many centuries of dominance by the Dutch (God knows how they managed that, if the island leaders had united earlier the Dutch could have been kicked out in very short order), to the point that the perception is that it is a young country. It is a young state, but it is an old civilization and ancient culture.

There is much to see and learn here. And the climate in the uplands is an absolute delight. It would be most rewarding to live here awhile. Bahasa Indonesia is no more difficult (or easier) than Tagalog. The market is greater, the process of facilitating it the same. Hmmmm...

Back in Singapore I was quickly through the controls (what a delight!). I had booked back in the same hotel as before, but a different room this time (it's nice to be able to look out of a window).

Dinner was, yes, back at the street restaurant and then after walking around again to stretch my legs I went back to the same bar (I'm getting to be a local) where an English guy of part Italian origin introduced himself. There on a project, staying longer. Lucky guy - I'd love to live in Singapore for a while...

From Manila to Jakarta

Another day, another flight. This time early in the morning (again) back to Singapore. I didnt have a ticket to Jakarta but fortunately there was space on midday flight so I jumped aboard and was in Jakarta by the middle of the afternoon.

Headed for my usual hotel, the Millenium Sirih, mostly because it as a good swimming pool, sauna and masseurs. Dumped the bags, headed straight for the maseur so I could have the six flights in three days rubbed out of me.

In the evening I just stayed in the hotel, ate a curry and - you guessed it, crashed out.

Party in Manila

I made the flight! I'm stunned - I was sure I wouldn't even be close. This Cebu Pacific flight was from the 'budget' terminal - bright, light and ful of filipinas returning home from work as maids etc from Singapore. There's actually quite a large filipino community in Singapore; the mall on Orchard Road where I bought my air tickets was full of stalls selling filiipino foodstuffs, movies and other stuff from home.

I slept the entire flight out to Manila, waking up once to the sound of the stewardesses singing to everyone. Yes there was a competition - three stewardesses, three songs and three winners - those passengers who were first able to guess the song. There was also a 'raffle', with three lucky winners selected by randomly picking a seat number out of a bag. What an absolute total delight! A human touch where normally you get an amorphous lump of mewling passengers prodded into obedience by scowling warders. American Airlines (whose cabin staff are morose), British Airways (governesses) and Continental (Con Air) could all lean a trick or two from these sweet, smiling, staff.

Landed some time in the afternoon, grabbed a cab into town and checked in to the hotel Jude Defensor had proposed for me - the Riviera Hotel in Malate. I called him on arrival and said though the price was great (1,700 pesos) the place wasn't, so the alternative he had proposed would be a good idea.

Jude came by, and this was the first time I had met the Expat editor, the magazine in which my article on security had been printed. After the usual introductions we went up two buildings and checked out the Executive Hotel. At 2,500 pesos a night it was perfectly acceptable.

From there Jude acted as guide to Manila for me. This is the first time I've walked in the capital of the Philippines; the first time I was physically here I just 'overnighted' in a hotel near the airport, so I saw nothing of the city itself, except by air.

We walked up the seafront promenade, past the US Embassy in its high profile location on the bay, through the park with its fountains and outdoor theater where young ballerinas were pirouetting to the music of Mozart, past the old Senate building and the shell of a building the Queen of Spain had, many years ago, funded for its restoration.

By now it was dark. We kept on walking, over a bridge into Chinatown, through a gate in the glowering walls of Intramuros, the old Spanish heart of Manila with buildings are sisters to the buildings I remember from Mexico.

In the much cracked and as many times repaired church a wedding is being celebrated, the whole family in white and with cockades of flowers. From here on in the streets appear cracked, the buildings shuttured, the atmosphere one of abandonment. Think what could be done to revive such as place - made into a tourist attraction, a Bohemian quarter, with arts and night life and street shows that make a place live. Not here - people want the modern luxuries of malls, air conditioning and boxy apartments that sell for twice the value in two years.

We wandered back up streets that I had no idea were, stopped at a bright, formica tabled restaurant for a delicious bowl of beef stew, then back through Malate to the hotel.

Later in the evening Jude came by again to invite me to a party he had been invited to, not far from the hotel. Great fun! Locals, plus guys from Spain working for an NGO, a woman from Angola, some Dutch, an American and an Indian who looked like a guru. The noise roared on and the rum was too soon gone.... The view from the apartment looked over one section of the district that still had the old, two story Chines style houses, infinitely preferable to the anonymous concrete towers that dominate the city.

Eventually wandered back to the hotel and crashed out (I'm always doing that, huh?)

Work and play in Singapore

Some work in the day, plus organizing the flight to Manila tomorrow. Lunch was in another street stall (I enjoy the food thoroughly), dinner with some people I had been introduced to on the trip back in June.

Went out again after dinner (hey, its Singapore!), met up with some more people (in the same bar), conversed with them a while and crashed, reasonably early at about 4am on the 13th. Which is good, coz the flight is at 09:30 ...

Back in Singapore

A long, long flight and then I touch down in Singapore and head to the hotel I've selected this time round. I had checked out the Royal Peacock Hotel the last time I was here; a budget hotel on the south side of Chinatown not far from a good slice of night life. On this voyage I'm splitting the costs with my client (my way of convincing them of letting me get back out here), so I'm trimming everything.

After the requisite meetings and presentations the city is mine - and I go out to enjoy the scene until late. The decorations I saw on the avenues as I came in were now lit up - a riot of many hued lanterns and giant flowers. And a rabbit, even though its not the Year of the Rabbit.

As I ate my deliciously filling chicken and rice for all of four Singapore dollars, I was told this was in celebration of the mid-autumn festival, a ceremony once banned in China but now common throughout countries with a significant Chinese population.

I spent at least a couple of hours shooting what I could with my snapshot camera (the big one staying at home), then many hours more trying to get something presentable out of them with Photoshop. Snapshots are fine enough for 'good weather' shots but they fade fast when it comes to low light situations; the sensor is small, so the noise is great.

Met up with some people in a bar near the hotel, conversed with them a while then crashed out.

The Wheel

The very last thing Ilham and I did on Sunday night was to take a ride to the top of the Wheel, Singapore's version of London's Eye.

We were told that night time wasn't the best time to ride the Wheel or see the city. Not so - it was fun to see the place by night, with the lights sparkling through the beetle backs of the the concert halls, twinkling from the storied homes of people and racing down the highways.

Plus the Wheel itself changes color, so we road a rainbow to the top and back again. Not bad at all!

One of the problems with Singapore is the lack of taxis - there simply aren't enough. We walked a long way - all the way back to the Mandarin Hotel, no less, to find a taxi to take us back to the River. There we had dinner by the river edge, bringing the weekend to end with a beefsteak and beer.

Thanks so much Ilham for the time together!

Chinatown

After Little India Ilham and I went to Chinatown, wandering around the streets and the market squares.

Later we went to the principal Buddhist temple. This was absolutely incredible - the sheer opulence of the place, the vibrancy of the colors, the grace of the monks.

Two things were truly amazing - the museum of Buddhist history and art, and the smaller temple in its garden on the very roof of the temple complex. Truly beautiful.

Little India

The weather remained as unsettled on Sunday as it had been Saturday. So, after breakfast and checking out the best possible timing of things, Ilham and I headed off to Little India.

As you might expect, Little India is a part of Singapore that is home to a large community of Indians. Indians have lived in SE Asia for millenia, way before the English began exporting them as laborers and imperial functionaries to vaious parts of the world in hte 19th century.

Most now are merchants and traders. living here as they would in London, Chicago or Melbourne.


We visited two temples; the first we couldn't get into to, the second (which was actually near Chinatown, that we visited later) we did. Here's some fotos.

Sentosa

Friday night Ilham came up from Jakarta to visit me in Singapore for the weekend. We had dinner in one of the restaurants just below the hotel, then hit the Ministry of Sound to see the night life. Quite a place.

Saturday morning, not too early, we headed off for Sentosa, the island just south of Singapore island that serves as its park, playground and pasttime.

Getting to Sentosa was fun - we took the cable car from Mount Faber, Singapore's highest hill. This is most ingeniously made. It works like the cable cars in the Alps - double band of six man carriages with a waypoint for changing from one band to the other. The waypoint is the top floor of a skyscraper that stands by the water's edge on Singapore Island.

As the car went up to the station on Sentosa itself, I could see the entire north shore being remodeled. Great trucks, greater earthworks. As I learned before, these are part of the massive investment Singapore is making to become a regional hub for entertainment and the conference industry.

We hit every one of the rides - the Pirates, the Logs, the Aquarium, you name it. Same as in most other luna parks, but I hadn't done this for ages, so it was fun all over again.

Later in the day we went down to the beach on the south side of Sentosa, taking the 'ski ride' down to the shore. It was sunny enough to sit on the beach and go for a swim, but this was cut short by a dark monsoon cloud invading the day's happiness.

It didn't last long (tine enough for a Cuba Libre) then we shot off to see the dolphins do their thing in the pool. I haven't seen these dolphins before - they are long nosed like the river dolphins of the Amazon, but their bellies are pink. Where are they from?

After the show was over, we walked back along the beach to the bridge that links Sentosa to one of the artificial islands built along the coast. The sign says that this is the southernmost point to which you can walk in Asia. Counting bridges from Malaysia to Singapore, from Singapore to Sentosa, and from Sentosa to this point, well its possible. But looking at the map, more of Sentosa lies south of here...

The sunset was beautiful, especially from the ski ride back up to the top of the tower. We got back to the hotel and basically crashed.

What a fun day!

Back to Singapore

I was too anxious to miss the alarm I basically didmt sleep much last night.

Up early to catch the early coach to Singapore.

There is no rail service from Melaka as in Wolrd War Two the Japanese tore up the tracks from the area to use for the Burma railway. Melaka had long lost its economic importance after centuries of European rule; no one cared to relay the track after the Japanese were defeated. 

So there are coaches instead.  The ride is supposed to take just under 5 hours.  The price is 17 ringgit. Still cheap.



The sky is a flat grey - almost a photographer's favorite 18%. 

We leave more or less on time, with only 4 passengers on board.
The AC is classic too much, ezpecially as its cool enough outsde.



The road so far is the same I came down on from KL, so we are evidently cuttting inland.

 We leave the freeway in what I think is Pusat, which is where the train came through.

 The coach unexpectedly (for me) pullled into a restaurant/cafe.  'All off - 20 minute break!' the driver calls out.  Great!  

The restaurant is a gigantic buffet with small supermarket on the left. One black (yes, black please) coffee and slice of gingerbread and my last 4 ringgit is reduced to 50 sen.



Around the back of the building, splendors!  A palm tree plantation!  So I can click a foto that isn't a jagged blur taken from the coach window.  Here it is :-)

After the break, we are back on the freeway again.  Same superlative standard, same slenter trees lining the roadsides, same rolling hills of palms to the horizon. This must be the main freeway from Singapore north, through KL and on.  There's plenty of vehicles, but as volume goes the traffic is quite light, and there are fewer trucks than I would expect to see. Is that because the rail service is better/cheaper, truckers prefer not paying tolls or because the trade is local or simply isn't there?  I don't know.  But it isn't like India, that's for sure.


At Kudai we exit the freeway again and on the normal maind road, which is still an excellent six lane highway.  Here there is more traffic - mostly cars though but there are more trucks too.  And plenty of coaches, which must still be the principal way of getting around long distance.



Eventually we arrive in Johor Bahru, the city facing Singapore Island. Low hills, buildings half hisden amongst the green, contruction sites and long malls of commercial operations mixed in with spacious residential housing.

Shortly afterwards we are at the border crossing and going through Malaysian customs.  The delightful thing is that, on the sidewalk before going up to the somewhat worn offices of the customs house, is a long line of people selling absolutely delicious looking snacks.  Is this a good sign or one where they calculate you must wait hours to get through the controls.  Well the control was quick (no queue!) I rejoin the bus.



We cross the same causeway I saw on the way up. At this hour there is no queue of traffic.  I see a glowering building on the right, looking for all the world like some high tech sentinel.

 Sure enough, its Woodlands, road version.   A cold grey place with its glassy towers angled so it looks to be on constant alert.  The architects must have had fun designing a 21st century castle of dark steel bars and tinted windows.  It certainly chillls the spirit.



Long queues (separate for each booth), trainee control guard, old ladies with incomplete data. Usual luck.  30 minutes later I'm through.



Well its a grey day in Singapore too, with the occasional droplet trickling down.  Hope it clears for the weekend...


Up to KL

The train to Kuala Lumpur leaves - 7:40 am. Singapore's main train station is a modest building. It looks untouched since the 1950s and far away from the 21st Century glass towers of the rest of the city; the English decorating style of the 1930s is still evident.

 I bought my ticket, then scouted the cafe to the side of the public area and bought myself a bright blue concoction labelled "blueberry juice".

The train (and the station indeed) is operated by the Malaysian Rail.  The carriages are simple box designs, I think maybe from the 1970s. It looks like a commuter train, with one first class carriage that, except for the cloth fabric on the seats, is the same as second class. I was going to regret have chosen first class ....



The train pulled out of the station and then sinks into a defile, as if to slip out of Singapore invisibly.  The vegetation by the side of the tracks is wild and savage. Ferns cascade from the joints of trees where enough detritus has settled and let them seed; banana trees nestle among hanging lianas and slender palms.



Breaking out of the jungle trench I could see the outer residences of Singapore, still stretching skywards but interspersed by a hindu temple, a military emplacement and parking lots for trucks. It looks like the upper part of Singapore is all utlities, fabrication yards, warehouses and low rise offices - in essence the back office.



After about 30 minutes the train pulled into Woodlands Rail Checkpoint. Still on Singaporean soil, this is the border crossing between Singapore and Malaysia.  The process is old world - everyone off and into queues to control documents and scan prints, then a long wait until everyone is processed and the doors slither open to let you board again.



I was already dismayed by the chill produced by the carriage's air conditioning. I had asked the steward to turn it up (or down, if you prefer) but this wasn't working - all I got was exasperated arms and eyebrows before a rustle of the same steward's newspaper. Already my throat was feeling the impact. By the end of the voyage I was dressed in three layers of clothes and had my beach sarong draped over my head to keep the chill from freezing my brain. To no effect. I remained a numbed skull.



After the pass control the train rolled over the causeway. On the road side, a queue the length of the causeway itself of trucks, cars, bikes and scooters, all waiting to trade in Singapore.

With a limpid sun rising in the hazy morning sky we passed through Johor Bahru, the main city in the province of Johor. The other side of the Straits isn't the same as Singapore.  For a start the commercial buildings in Johor have a dated 1970s and 1980s feel to them - obviously concrete frames with pre-fab panels.  The houses are much simpler too - more like Jakarta or Cebu - though I did see new construction projects going on. 

Here every is cloaked in dense green vegetation, which I always find beautiful.  Orange earth is pushed aside by the living areas, to tumble into brownwater creeks fringed by papaya, banana and a cascade of creepers.

Ten minutes into Malaysia and the mosques are evidence we are in an overtly Moslem country. The minarets are in the Turkish style, but stumpier; the roofing a strong blue, which sets off the white plastered walls very well.

Over the course of the next hour or so the train stops at several outlying suburbs of Johor Bahru. Commuters crowd around the second class carriages; no-one appears in the first class, where most of the travelers are tourists like me, including three Italian guys who have wrapped up to battle the air conditioning.  One indian lady can't stop coughing up her deep cattarh. She must hate the A/C too.



Leaving Kapas Baru the train runs into a defile again, deeper than the one in Singapore and almost overwhelmed by the vegetation. Occasionally it breaks out to run over a plain, full of palm trees and an occasional tin roofed dwelling with its tawny red bare earth front yard.



Passing by a small town I can see there is a small property boom, with new apartment blocks going up. Looking through the main street most building seem to be three floors high. Public buildings seem to have blue painted rooves here, not just the mosques.


We stop at Kulai; just over the track there's a pool of water with some plants in it, fringed by ever present palms.  The train waited here only a few moment, then pulled out to follow the main road with its moisture mottled buildings on the left and jungle with its tumultuous growth on the right. The road soons disappears, leaving us with views over palm plantations and what looks like coffee bushes.



In Rengam there is a large, sun blackened statue of Ganesh just over the road from a silver paint hindu temple.  Next to it a football stadium with the greenest, lushest pitch I've ever seen. By the station platform the bouganvillea is shaped into bushes. On the other side of the tracks a tall, flowering cactus, its flowers large and creamy yellow as though they were lotus blossoms. Another long wait and we pull away from Rengam, to be swallowed up by the palm groves again.



I had thought earlier of getting off in Kluang but decided to go on to KL.  It is a pleasant looking low rise town, spread either side of the tracks.  Most of the people at the station seem to be Indian, one of the three main ethnies in Malaysia. The town stretches on a while - there's more developments on the northern edge - but the track is soon deep into nature.



Beyond Kluang are low lying hills. The vegetation changes for a short while, high standing slender trees and with broad leaves that alternate with the palm plantations As we pass Genuang the scenery is more open but the principal vegetation is still palms.  What they produce I don't know. 

The train stopped again at Segamat. Well it stopped, rolled back over the bridge, then puffed back into the station again on a different track Someone pulled a lever too slow, it seems.  Ah well, good thing we changed over - another train went through on the track we were on - heading the opposite way.


After Segamat the views open up again, with the additon of some broad fields of swamp and low bushes. Then its palms mixed with what I think may be coffee bushes.

The sky darkened, clouds are building heavy heads that begin to glower over the trains destination. It might rain later... I fell asleep, my head bandana'd by my sarong, my eyes looking at the eternal plantations of palm trees.

A sound of braking, the movement of people pulling bags down from the racks. I've arrived in Kuala Lumpur.

Tiger Island

Singapore in the early morning light as seen from my hotel window.

Singapore!