Singapore The Good, The Old and The Culture

We extended our Easter break and flew back to Singapore, and for the first time, I got to stay in Duxton, Singapore, the corner of the city I have wanted to live in for years.

It was Fafa’s birthday. It was also a break from studying, which is the most romantic reason I have ever left a country.

When I lived in Singapore, I always wanted a place on the Purple Line, somewhere in the Kreta Ayer, Outram and Chinatown triangle. This time I finally got it, if only for a week. We stayed at the newly opened Mondrian Duxton, which felt like a very grown-up version for the girl who used to catch the bus home to Little India.

Speaking of which. I walked around Little India again, and my body remembered everything before my brain did. Which lane. Which turn. Which smell. I feel like I am home, and then I remember I have a return ticket.

I went on a Tribe Tour.

I learned that Singapore is no longer the No. 1 Airport.

I ate Murugan idli after the temple visit with Amma.

I went to Kinokuniya with Fafa. We stood in front of a miniature shophouse for far too long, debating whether we needed it (we did not, and I still think about it).

I drank KOI. We drank KOI.

Every day, we snacked. Eureka Popcorn, which I discovered last year, is now a permanent fixture of my Singapore itinerary. This time I tried Spicy Cuttlefish and fell in love. I also worked through an unreasonable amount of Irvin’s Salted Egg Yolk.

Here is the thing about returning to a city you know. The whole trip becomes a negotiation between new things and old things. In Japan, that looks like MOS Burger and Yoshinoya. In Singapore, it looks like this.

One regret. We took taxis everywhere. I wonder if I did that when I lived here too, and how much of the city I have now missed twice.

Goodbye Singapore! Thanks for the memories!

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