My whirlwind visit to Singapore was spent in a jet-lagged haze where day becomes night and hunger strikes at strange times. It poured with rain during my entire stay but the air remained warm so I wore my Birkenstocks in spite of the puddles on the ground.


The city was a clean urban jungle in every sense of the phrase – big green plants grew up like islands in the tarmac and held their ground besides the ever growing sky scrapers. Pastel coloured buildings appeared like geometric forms against the blank canvas that was the cloudy sky.


I walked through Little India, transporting me to a country I’ve never been to. The road was lined with stalls selling fresh flower heads to make garlands with, and shops selling dodgy electrical items. In one particular outlet the smell of incense was so strong it was almost suffocating.


At night we went to the Gardens by the Bay, giant artificial trees with real plants climbing up their trunks and lights covering their surface. They were lit up with greens, reds and purples for the light show at 8pm, the city lights glittering behind them as they flashed and pulsated to the music that played.

Next stop: Sydney

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