Back in Singapore for a far-too-short nine days, I pull on my running shoes one morning and set off to see if anything has changed in the past seven months. (Meanwhile, Roy snores gently, eagerly awaiting my report-back.)

 

As any travelling runner knows, jogging around a new city or neighbourhood is a great way to see the sights. It’s better than whisking by in a vehicle – you see the sights and smell the smells as you would while walking, but as you cover the ground twice as fast, you get to see much more.

Staying at our generous friend Sue’s apartment at the Seaview in Katong, just five minutes’ walk from our previous condo in Amber Road, means I can slip right back into my regular route through East Coast Park – a ten-kilometre path flanked by sand and sea on the one side, tropical greenery on the other.

Singapore continually reinvents itself, so it’s appropriate to start with a construction-related detour. They’re building the Thomson-East Coast Line of the MRT train system, which will include stations at Kallang, Marine Parade, Bedok South and Upper East Coast, where it will end. No one’s holding their breath – completion is scheduled for 2021.

Before extensive land reclamation in the 1970s, this gem of a Peranakan (Straits-Chinese) villa would have been right on the beach. Clearly, it’s being preserved in the midst of what will be Marine Parade Station, right opposite Parkway Parade shopping mall.

To smile or not to smile, that is the question

During our two months back in South Africa, I reverted to my former habit of exchanging a greeting or at least a smile with any and every passing stranger. That’s just not normal in Singapore – apart from Filipino domestic helpers and the odd tourist.

So now I’m the weirdo ang moh (foreigner) whose clearly unwelcome grin is met with a glassy stare. Here’s one friendly local face, though – the cleaner at one of the toilet facilities that line East Coast Park at more or less one-kilometre intervals. Yes, he agreed – Singapore is clean and beautiful, he’s doing a good job, and so is the government.

Maybe paranoid, and I wonder if anyone’s ever phoned the number – nevertheless, these signs along the East Coast Park are a reminder of how close we are to the Indonesian islands of Batam and Bintan.

No, they’re not refugees from Batam – these “uncles” are fresh from an early-morning dip in the sea.

While the menfolk disport themselves in the water, or fish off Bedok Pier – no, I’ve never seen anything being caught (but for anglers that’s par for the course, right?) – limber ladies of a certain age in matching gear (together with a token man or two) engage in various forms of group exercise. They’re there every morning: same time, same place.

It’s not just runners, walkers, tai chi and keep-fit enthusiasts – cycling is huge and growing in Singapore, and cyclists have their very own path.

On the way home

Marine Parade shopping precinct comes alive between 7am and 8am, and I smell the durians before I see them. Though almost universally beloved by Southeast Asians, this spiky fruit is so pungent that it’s banned from public buildings and public transport. For me, they’re a reminder of how one can adapt to anything, given time – 17 years ago, their very odour made my gorge rise; now, I can eat durian with a smile.

In September, when we closed up the barge and left the Thames & Kennet Marina, I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to England. Last week, after two months in South Africa, it felt too soon to leave for Singapore. And, this coming Thursday, I’m going to be nowhere near ready to board that flight to Perth, either. How very lucky I am!