Singapore: Day One…and a Half

by Alan Carasso

OK, let me get one thing out in the open, straight away. I am not Lucas Marquardt, OK? I don’t look like him (he’s prettier), I don’t have his sense of humor (he’s funnier and wittier) and I don’t write as well (as in nowhere near as well). Now that I’ve successfully tempered expectations… 

Let me start out by saying (not sure my bosses know this, but maybe), I was slightly hesitant to make this trip. For a variety of reasons, primarily because I don’t especially enjoy being 10,000+ miles away from my wife and three kids. I miss them, I’m a sap, what can I say? Secondly, not so long ago, I freaked out about being trapped on a plane for 14 hours to Hong Kong and I balked. OK, there were some mitigating circumstances, but still, the prospect of a long flight to Tokyo and THEN a nearly eight-hour flight here had me, well, slightly jittery. 

In the end, it was all much ado about nothing. My 90-minute drive to Newark was far less comfortable than either of the two flights, which were VERY cozy and comfy (thanks to United, not to mention Sue and Barry) and, to be honest, went much faster than I could have ever predicted. And thankfully, there was no need to pit stop in Anchorage this time. A prior trip to Hong Kong in 2000 was punctuated with an unexpected, turbulence-induced diversion to and subsequent layover in that quaint Alaska port of call. I digress. 

Narita International welcomed me with dreary skies and rainy runways, but I was most entertained by some of the sights in the terminal, including a worker from a duty free shop holding a sign that read ‘the end of a queue’ so people would know exactly where they had to stand to pay for those $30 cartons of smokes or Japanese sponge cakes. Then, another duty free shop closer to my gate was blaring “You Give Love a Bad Name” so loud that I felt I’d never left the Garden State. There was also the small sushi kiosk that gave their blessing to people who wanted to take their food to go (sign read, ‘it’s OK to leave’), but the best was the window at something of a snack bar offering ham and cheese sandwiches and hot coffee. There’s nothing especially weird about that, other than the fact that the plastic representations of each made a) the sandwiches look very similar to the ones we gave my son a couple of years ago and b) the ‘hot’ coffee on display was a demi-tasse filled with coffee beans. This tickled my funny bone. 

There was also the restroom. Those that have the misfortune of working with me on a daily basis know that I am not averse to potty humor, and there was something about the restroom at Narita that, well, ‘warmed’ the cockles of my heart. And other parts of my body. You see, this particular loo (never seen–or felt–this before) was heated. I’ve seen seats that are lined with plastic for one’s convenience, but not one that you could cook an egg on. No, it wasn’t like that, though there was a warning that it could cause minor burns. No, I am NOT making this up. 

If you’ve never been to Singapore (first time for me), Changi Airport is one of the more beautiful and welcoming facilities in the world, I’d have to imagine, even if you begin to perspire the very second you hit the terminal. We flew in past the Singapore Flyer, at 165 meters (or something around 500 feet!) tall the world’s largest observation wheel. It was close to 1 a.m. when we landed, so it was illuminated and was a fun way to be greeted. The one very minor complaint is that as of about a year ago, the cabbies–none of them–do not accept VISA. My driver didn’t exactly know why. AMEX and MasterCard yes, though I think he told me there was a 10% surcharge for MC. Weird, I know. Only applies to the cabs, you can use it elsewhere. So, not a bad idea to exchange some cash upon arrival. Also, there is a S$10 night surcharge. But, as I said, minor details. 

I didn’t sleep a lot on the flights, just enough to recharge, but still I worried I’d have some trouble falling asleep, even though it was well into the 3 a.m. hour. I brought along some ZZ Quil and miraculously got about six hours. Flipped on the UK/UT game (snooze) Wednesday morning and then ventured out for the first time, as I’m not entirely sure what kind of leisure time I’ll have the balance of the week. I made a plan to focus on Chinatown, appropriate enough, I thought, given that Thursday is the Chinese New Year celebration. Many small businesses are closed and many others will close at midday Thursday. 

In any event, upon recommendation from Pat Cummings, I checked out the Maxwell Road Food Center, a covered market of sorts, with small food and drink purveyors. When I am abroad, I like to indulge in the local specialties, and one that I’d read about was Hainanese Chicken Rice. The dish emanates from the island of Hainan and many of the inhabitants migrated to Singapore. Now, if your food HAS to be aesthetic as well as tasty, this probably isn’t for you. Whole chickens are boiled, a la the chicken soup in Jewish delis, until cooked, then the chicken is de-boned (in most cases, anyways), chopped and laid across a heaping serving of basmati-like rice. There were three sauces from which to choose. The first was something of a teriyaki/soy reduction, there was a ginger/coconut sauce and then a spicy (my mouth is still reeling) red curry/ginger/garlic sauce. Those sauces give an otherwise bland dish some life. Oh, and maybe the best part is that the meal, coupled with the equivalent of a banana/strawberry/pineapple smoothie, set me back less than $6! I left feeling satisfied that I’d experienced it AND that I didn’t wait an hour or more as some chose to. I suppose there is a reason they decided to do that. But at the end of the day, how much better can that guy’s chicken and rice be than that other guy’s, right? 

After finally finding my way out of the Orchard MRT (subway) station–by the way, a phenomenal, clean, efficient network–I made my way back to what I am calling home between now and 5:45 a.m. Monday. Even better, that 80% chance of rain they were talking about never materialized. 

Now the ‘bad’ news. Just got a call from Michael Wallace. The ride to Kranji leaves the hotel at 4 a.m. Thursday morning. I think I’m going to bed. Now. 

Good night from what my phone is telling me is the Ardmore Flats section of Singapore.