It's all happening

I encountered more members of the animal kingdom in Singapore than the otters, although they were basically the reason for me going there.

I heard more birds than I saw, but these two let me get pretty close at the Gardens by the Bay.

Well—there was also this fella who brought his feathered friends to the Botanical Gardens.

This was my first time crossing paths literally with a monkey.

And then there were these two monitor lizards busily hunting for their lunch.

All these encounters were strictly out in the open, but the closest song I could get to match the experience is Simon & Garfunkel’s “At the Zoo”, so that’s what I’m giving you today.

 

Something spicy

One of the areas I visited in Singapore was the neighborhood called Little India. A whole lotta shops and restaurants catering to the sizable South Asian population of the country, and an explosion of colors (and smells—but you’re going to have to imagine those for yourself).

A lot of stalls making and selling floral outerwear. I though that interesting, because I never saw anyone wearing them, and I don’t know what events would occasion their purchase. But there were a lot.

Some interesting fruit and veg.

I thought it kind of odd to see plantains hanging above industrial Del Monte bananas.

There are murals.

And colorful cows in a park.

Local life.

This colorful building with a garden on the roof.

A staircase that caught my eye.

Colorful architecture.

Which extends to commercial buildings.

I shot this pic outside the Mustafa Centre, simply because in any mystery story these freezers would be full of human body parts.

And a road sign nod to the ‘hood.

 

 

 

Sustenance

I think it’s time to talk Singapore food.

TBH, the climate kinda put the damper on my appetite, but I did have a few noshes. And slurps.

My hotel deal included breakfast, and it’s been my practice in the past to eat the hotel breakfast and then not feel hungry again until evening. I’ve got to admit, I don’t think I’ve ever had watermelon taste so intensely good as at the Conrad, so that was a staple of my daily start.

Because they cater to a global clientele, they also put out Asian staples, and, uh, baked beans for the Brits.

I thought their presentation of pancakes and waffles…interesting.

Along with the toppings.

And there was the honey collector that I last saw at my hotel in Dublin.

My one dinner out was at a place that claimed a long Swiss heritage, although all the staff were Asian. The décor was…eclectic; mashup of industrial minimalism with some baroque touches.

Too hot for fondue or raclette, so I had sea bass.

And, BTW: it seemed a bit optimistic to refer to itself as Wine Universe, when they offered about five whites by the glass.

My one lunch out was at a hawker center, Old Airport Road Food Centre—like a food court, but outdoors and all mom-and-pop, not chains. I went for the Live Prawn Noodle Soup, and it was delicious. The woman came out from her stall, netted up three swimming prawns from their tank and dumped them in the boiling water. While they cooked, she put noodles in the bowl and ladled in the broth. As she handed over the tray to me, an old fella filled a little bowl with hot sauce and gave me the plastic soup spoon. I gotta tell you—that soup was extra primo good. Also, beautiful.

NB: napkins are not really a thing in Singapore. People in the know bring their own, or wipes. However, the Food Centre had sinks with soap dispensers, which I much appreciated.

On National Day I had afternoon tea at another hotel. I wanted to test the theory that hot tea is meant to be refreshing, which is what members of the British Raj claim. It was ridiculously expensive, which I kind of expected, but also—get a load of the shape of this cup. It’s like a champagne coupe—what’s with the wide surface? Tea’s not going to hold the heat in that thing. (The preserves for the scones, BTW, were tea-flavored.)

It was indeed refreshing, but I don't know how much of than came from being in an air-conditioned hotel.

The rest of the time I spent at the hotel bar, because in addition to the breakfast, my deal included $100 credit, which I prefer to drink. The first night, I got chicken satay with a Singapore Sling; I thought the latter somewhat obligatory. It was fine—all the juice in it masked the gin. But, honestly—look at the size of that napkin! For finger food! All their other clients must be much neater than I.

Other nights, I sat at the bar, because I like watching bartenders work. And drank champagne or Kir Royale.

(Those potato chips were lethal; horseradish flavored.)

The final night I had something called a Tokyo Sunrise, invented by the bartender at the Conrad Tokyo: rum, mango juice, passionfruit juice, maybe some other things, topped off with soda water. Lordy, it was good—and a work of art.

And that’s my Singapore gustatory adventure.