Welcome to Singapore. If you break the rule we will fine you like you have never been fined before. However, if you are capable of reading warning signs, we are a lovely, multi-ethinic country with a high level of sophistication. That had been my impression of this teeny tiny country before going there. The first part was proven right merely 30 min after landing when I entered the Changi Airport MRT station and was on the lookout for a machine to purchase train tickets. A machine of this kind was nowhere to be found; instead, the ‘No Eating And Drinking Fine $ 500’ warning sign was impossible to be overlooked.
The interior of the trains was also equipped with no-smoking and no-durian-devouring signs. I wish they had put up another sign next to this warning sign that says: ‘Ticket machine in the back of the escalator’. How should I gulp down durian on the train if I cannot buy a ticket?! The metro station itself was constructed in the same way as elsewhere in major East Asian cities: the train track was shielded from the platform by a glass wall with sections of boarding areas whose doors opened upon the arrival of the train.
Luckily, I was not hungry enough to feel like living dangerously, since I had been well pampered on the flight with Singapore Airlines (yes, the rumors are true). After boarding the plane, the passengers were handed steamy towels to refresh their hands or face. A menu of all upcoming meals with appealing descriptions was presented.
I chose the Thai curry option for dinner and enjoyed two cups of wine. The only thing I regretted was how fast I had emptied the dish. The service was cordial, and the female flight attendants wore the prettiest dresses! Mango-flavoured Häagen-Dazs icecream was served in a second round after passengers had finished the meal.
Singapore had been under the rule of Great Britain (and Japan) for many years, and the reason behind its strategic importance became evident when you discover this many cargo ships from your plane window. Also, later on, when I was on a bus to Sentosa, we drove past the docks – excuse me, we drove alongside the docks for what it felt like half an eternity. I had never seen docks of such humongous dimensions before! Surely Europeans cities are not exactly impressive in size, nevertheless the port seemed like the same size as my city. I was totally picturing Jackie Chan doing some old-school Hong Kong-style mafia movie and being swallowed by the endless lines of containers.
From the Changi Airport MRT station I rode the train from one to the other side of Singapore and enjoyed a diversified scenery of city landscape never devoid of lavish greenery. Some typical East-Asian architecture elements were all too familiar. The majority of the train passengers had Chinese, Malay or Indian roots and were commonly conversing in English. Important signs in the train stations (and also in the city, as I found out later) were usually written in four languages: English, Chinese, Malaysian and Tamil (which I first wrongfully thought was Hindi). After an hour of squeezing in the train with my gigantic backpack, being completely in the way of everybody and everything, I arrived at the station at which my cousin lived. Leaving the air conditioned train behind, it was full on sauna in the open air. Welcome to the never-ending summer!
I visited Singapore in 2016. For other parts click here.
Flying Dumpling 