Change In Plans

Note: the events in this post are described in the present tense, although they occurred several days ago

Greetings from the Raffles Hotel Bar in Singapore!

After the long, overnight flight from Istanbul (I slept like a rock), I found myself with a 6-hour layover in Singapore. In the spirit of adventure travel, I parked my hand luggage, sweater and jacket at a “left baggage” area, and took a taxi in to look around. I’ve never been to Singapore before.

I am very glad that I am not carrying the ridiculous sweater and jacket. In line with popular conceptions, Singapore is very hot and humid. Walking around for two hours, I have sweated through my shirt, and have big sweat stains on my khaki trousers. A group of school kids was laughing and pointing at me, sweat man.

On the way in from the airport, I asked the taxi driver to drop me in the oldest part of Singapore. “You looking for lady? Nice lady?” he asked. “No thanks,” I replied, “just an interesting part of the city to look at.”

“You looking for shopping? Nice shopping?”

“No, just an interesting part of the city.”

“You sure you are not looking for lady? Very special Singapore lady?”

“No. For heaven’s sake, please let me out here.”

I found myself on Mosque Street, near the center of Chinatown. I walked through a series of outdoor clothing stalls and herbal-remedy markets, past countless massage parlors, and wandered down to the south end of Bridge Road. I bought Tallulah a red silk Chinese outfit, which I hope she will like. It may not be shiny enough for her glam tastes.

After seeing most of Chinatown, I walked north again, passing the hospital and the police cantonment, and crossing the Singapore River. There are many major construction sites, staffed primarily by Indians.

As I walked, I read the ‘historical site’ plaques, and looked for any signs of litter or disorder. Again, in line with popular conception, Singapore is spotlessly clean.

I was slightly surprised, however, to see many Singaporeans jaywalking impatiently at long traffic lights. There are many large signs forbidding this explicitly. Jaywalking aside, there is a pervasive sense of calm and order here. It is sort of like a tropical Switzerland.

After a couple of hours of seeing what I could see, I found myself in the large inner courtyard of the Raffles Hotel.

The Raffles Hotel bar is a place which has long been romanticized in my mind. I half expected to find monocled old British officers drinking sloe gin and talking about the Siege of Khartoum.

Instead, I am llistening to Muzak and drinking beer. The Raffles bar is full of tourists, but it still feels like another crossroads of the world. The colonial architecture, the tables of businessmen making deals, the orderly bustle of the city outside. There are no South African mercenaries for me to talk to, though.

It is going to start to rain any moment, and I will abandon my drink and head for the airport. I am sorry to be delayed 6 hours in getting back to my family, but it has been fun to get a fleeting, sweaty glimpse of Singapore.

Onward to New Zealand and family!