The architecture of Singapore reminded me of an ultra-modern Chicago–lots of various styles and magnificent skyscrapers coupled with the gritty urban design of immigrants and blue collar workers. It was such a change from months walking around the less vertical cities of SE Asia.
And they’re still building more.
This is the Fullerton Hotel and Raffles Hotel respectively. Fullerton is on the marina and was built where the old naval base was located. The Raffles was built to commemorate the British founder of Singapore. Both were glorious 500-700 US$ a night affairs.
And of course, the famous, Korean built, Marina Bay Towers. It looks like a subway train got trapped atop some giant Lego’s. It was impressive, but there really wasn’t much to see in Singapore. It felt like a place to eat and enjoy the locals in their environment.
What better way to finish the day than by some quality (albeit overpriced I’m sure) massage and champagne room time. Our hotel was located in a red light district where girls in tiny dresses were visible day and night. Businessmen were constantly flowing out of the rooms with stupid grins and a satisfied gait.
The tiny little island nation of 5 million people likes to eat. There are food hawkers everywhere. Chinatown, Little India, and Arab Street all offer local versions of their distant flavors. The weather is hot, and they fight fire with fire. But, you can’t mention anything about Singapore without talking about price. In other words, it’s silly expensive.
How much would you pay for this Singapore Sling (from Raffles Hotel (the origin of this sweet sweet drink)) and a plate of baby sliders? The answer: 52 US$. Yes, the peanuts were free, and we ate lots of them, but 52 dollars for a drink and a mediocre appetizer? That’s ridiculous!
This was a noodle soup that left my mouth burning for hours after consumption. I was panting like a dog and unable to finish it.
A nameless Indian buffet that was pretty good and reasonably priced.
This was from the first restaurant I saw after exiting the subway in Little India. It was a preachy vegetarian restaurant with lots of facts and Gandhi quotes about how being a veggie eater was morally and intestinally superior. Despite the proselytizing, it was excellent food. It was a thin bread stuffed with potatoes and peas. The dipping sauces were so good, and it’s always fun to eat with your hands and not get too messy.
On a rainy day, there’s nothing better than a warm soup with a tasty, delicate broth.
This tasted like it looks, burnt. Not too good for being so famous–some kind of chicken hot pot.
My feelings are not very mixed. Singapore is tasty but frustratingly expensive.