We woke slowly (as one does) and caught a bus to Fort Canning Park. Ancient trees, shaded paths, and a scattering of old(ish) colonial buildings… remnants of British rule layered over evidence of settlement dating back to the 14th century. Little remains, but the sense of history lingers.
From there we ducked into the National Museum of Singapore for a steady, if unremarkable, telling of the island’s story. Solid context, but not exactly edge-of-your-seat telling.
I stuck with the guided tour – the commentated history (cultural melting pot – trading post – colonialism – rise of Japan – fall of Singapore – rise of Singapore) gave life to the displays and was excellent – Leigh
Back outside, we wandered through sun-bleached streets to Bugis… a student-crammed mall with brands closer to our budget than Orchard Road’s opulence. We braved a Thai lunch with staff who had either no idea what gluten was… or suspected it was some optional extra. Unclear. We ate anyway. So far nothing untoward has issued.
The afternoon took us past streets that seemed to lose character with every block, until suddenly we stood before Raffles Hotel. Singapore wears its colonial names with a curious pride, and here the building oozed Gatsby glamour and unapologetic opulence.
By now the sun was relentless. Ten kilometres in, we gratefully sought the icy blast of a shopping centre, threading between temporary F1 gantries and crash barriers (the race looms, a mere 37 days away)
One last obligatory supermarket stop, then home for showers, fresh T-shirts, and the weary luxury of evening plans made in cool air.
We plumped for the Tiong Bahru area for this evening’s adventure… a suburb of soft neon, pastel walls and low-rise retro shophouses tangled in greenery. It oozes a laid-back charm that feels quite different to the Singapore we’ve seen so far. It also happens to be home to several gluten-friendly cafes, including Tiann’s, (cited by glutards as the GOAT). The food? Pretty damn good. Though in hindsight, perhaps doubling down on fried gochujang chicken and duck-fat potatoes wasn’t the most balanced choice. Still, we regret nothing.
The Obligatory Blog 