Happy New Year to one and all! I hope you had a wonderful holiday season, with family and friends. Our holidays involved a trip to Singapore, where Jules' eldest brother kindly hosted a houseful of siblings and assorted hangers on (That would be me). It was a festive time, so festive in fact that all my clothes appear to have shrunk...
Singapore. Ah, where to begin?
First impressions: it felt odd to be in a tropical city that works. As you drive through the streets, everything – the heat & damp, humidity, the luxuriant vegetation, the sudden big-drop rainstorms – tell you that, yes, you’re still in the tropics. At the same time, the meticulous signage, the gleaming new tar of the roads, the driving decorum and the very kempt verges tell of a more middle-aged, western capital. Oh, and the stern warnings on the subway against the carrying of durian, a popular local fruit with a foul smell but (apparently) delicious to eat. We committed this particular offence, by mistake, one day and couldn’t figure out why the whole city appeared to be shrouded in sulphurous fumes… until we got home and opened Jules’ back pack. We had been carrying around our own private cloud of noxious durian-stench for most of the day. So I’m lucky not to be writing this from a gleaming cell in Singapore Central Police Station.
Singapore is full of contradictions. Beautiful trees lining the avenues but not much life flitting about in them (thanks, presumably, to the mosquito-control spraying programme). Busy ethnic quarters, complete with colourful temples, mosques and bustling street markets but all curiously ungrungy. The red light district was like a genteel suburb… Then gleaming tower blocks looming over them all.
Shop houses: A Singapore feature
In other words, it’s nothing like Dar or Nairobi or even funny little Arusha.
A few highlights: if you have small kids with you, definitely take them on a Night Safari. The kids are merely a smokescreen, of course – it’s actually a great night out for your inner child! Most animals live free in large open spaces; you get the impression that they all range freely throughout the park but obviously most of them are discreetly fenced off. Most of the cages are large and spacious, with plenty of room to move about. You can hop off the guided tour and wander off to take in some of the 'off piste' highlights. The whole is given a nice touch of mystery by the use of soft lighting, giving the silvery effect of a moonlit night.
Mirth as a flying fox, arching its back to avoid soiling its pristine belly fur. Ollie (nephew) narrowly avoided being dumped on. Not long after, a Flying Squirrel launched itself off a branch and swept magnificently over Jules’ head… well, it actually would have smacked the side of her face if she hadn’t ducked. It clearly didn’t like the way she was eyeing up the succulent bunch of leaves it was feeding on.
It then sat and chattered at me in a possessive rage. It's a curious creature: exactly like an oversized standard-issue squirrel, complete with bushy tail curved over its back - but with the addition of ankle-to-wrist membranes that it can deploy to glide from tree to tree.
The whole outing was a neat reminder of the important role that a good zoo can play in educating and inspiring lots of ordinary folk, many of whom will never get to experience wildlife in its natural setting nor appreciate the imperitive of conservation.
My new official fave emporium, anywhere: Mustapha’s, in Little India. Billed as a spice shop but much, much more - the size of a decent department store, but inside, all the hustle and bustle of Istanbul's Grand Bazaar; electronics, jewellery, a cavernous drugstore, spices (there were entire aisles devoted entirely to different kinds of coriander!) and a greengrocery laden with exotica, fresh produce from every corner. (Warning: DON’T go to Singapore if you’re worried about food miles; virtually everything comes from elsewhere).
Dragon Fruit
The Botanical Garden: we only scratched the surface here, as we ran out of time with the Orchid Garden, a bewitching array of weird forms and luxuriant colour. I can testify to the fact that you can see too many orchids – the brain goes on strike, rebels against having to process the riot of new information. You get a sort of orchid hangover after an hour or so… but this didn't prevent Jules from falling for their decadent charm: we are now the proud parents of four tiny orchids (orchidettes?), potted up and reverently sprayed with a fine mist of water twice a day.
Orchard Road, Singapore’s answer to Oxford Street, was a bit of an eye-popper for us African hicks. The Singaporeans have taken the concept of the Mall to a whole new level. Not only is the street lined with these opulent secular temples but once you venture into the twilight zone, you can easily access the next one without surfacing again for air. They are all inter-connected: a shopping-maze-warren, making it as easy as possible to part with your cash with minimal heartache. It was all very dizzy-making. Again, about as unlike the typical Arusha shopping experience as you could wish!
Thai Silks
And the food. There was a bewildering array of foods on offer, particularly specialities from SE Asia, India and Sri Lanka. And it was all delicious, whether from a street vendor or a posh restaurant or the food courts that dot every mall.
It was lovely to get back home again, just in time for the New Year. We almost made it to midnight… the spirit was willing, but the flesh was still in the wrong time zone.
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