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The Journal
Singapore Fling
February 20, 2000
It was completely unexpected, but hey, who's complaining. The news came in the form of, what else, a message from the captain.
"This is your captain," he said-- by now quite recognizable from his heavy Greek accent. Because of bunkering problems, we couldn't get sufficient fuel to take us to Nias Island, Indonesia, our next scheduled port. So we would head, instead, to the port of Singapore. At that unexpected good news cheers rumbled through the narrow hallways and around Rainbow Deck where people always gather for public activities.
It took us three days at sea to get there. By that time I learned that many people aboard the ship had been to Singapore, some many times, and every one of them raved about the city.
An aside: at exactly 6 p.m. at the "preport" that takes place the evening before we dock at every new port, we crossed the equator again. (Singapore, "The Lion City," is located one degree north of the equator at the southern tip of the Malay Peninsula at the crossroads of Indonesia, Thailand and the Philippines, in case you, like I, don't know your geography well enough.) We will cross back over the equator again soon. I don't know where or when, but it's exciting every time.
When we docked the morning of February 20, Vi, Marlene, Mark and I were ready to roll. We had decided to strike out on our own rather than take a tour, and maps in hand, we headed for the World Trade Center.
That was the best decision we made all week! The four of us had a ball in Singapore. We knew we didn't have enough time to take in all the sights in one day, so we had mapped our short-term touring strategy with military precision.
Consulting with friends who knew the tropical city inside out, we prepared our battle plan: We would travel light, quickly change U.S. dollars into Singapore dollars ($1 U.S. for $1.68 Singapore dollars), and stick together as we maneuvered through the bustling crowds of Chinese, Malays, and Indians who are the predominant citizens of the city. (We learned that in the mid-1980s the city government was active in population control, but their plans backfired. There was an unexpectedly low Chinese birth rate and now the city offers tax incentives to parents who produce children. We saw evidence of this with the many young parents walking through China Town holding tiny beautiful babies.)
Singapore was once a tropical rain forest, and we certainly felt the heat and humidity on our quick foray through the city. A British colony founded in 1819 by Sir Thomas Raffles and invaded by the Japanese in 1942, today this immaculately clean industrial city is the independent Republic of Singapore. Malay is the official language, but English is widely spoken, along with Mandarin, Malay and Tamil. It has a population of three million - and they all obey the rules.
If they don't, they go to jail. On board the ship, we heard some stern lectures on rules we were warned not to break:
*Smoking is prohibited almost everywhere indoors. When in doubt,
ask.
* Chewing gum is strictly prohibited. If caught, you go to jail.
* So is spitting. Don't do it.
*The city is immaculately clean. This is rigorously enforced. Don't litter, or you might be thrown in jail rather than enjoying "happy hour" with friends in your Ocean Explorer stateroom.
So with these provisos in mind, we set forth to see how much we could accomplish as tourists in a single day. (No one told us not to jay walk, so that was the only crime we committed that day.)
But for $5 we managed to take the beautiful aerial cable car ride from the World Trade Center over the harbor to the resort island of Sentosa. There we hopped the monorail for another few dollars and circled the island. We could have gone around endlessly for a single fare, but we preferred to ride the cable car up to the top of Singapore's Mount Faber for lunch.
The cable car glided high in the air over the busy harbor and gave us a bird's eye view of a number of "first-class" cruising ships docked in the heart of the city. (Our much more modest ship was anchored around on the other side of the harbor at the commercial dock since we had arrived on an unexpected basis.) Looking down onto the enormous swimming pools, enclosed glass porticos and balconies, badminton courts and putting greens, we got a glimpse of how "the other half" lives aboard a top-of-the-line luxury liner. But we agreed -- we would never have abandoned our much more exciting down-scale "expedition" cruising in favor of these behemoth vessels where you have to dress for dinner, never mind dress for success.
Finding the mountain top restaurant closed, we grabbed a cab and headed for Chinatown, asking the driver to drop us at a good restaurant. For $6 he served us well. We had a sensational lunch at a restaurant where we were the only Caucasians. This happened to be the day after the final day of the Chinese New Year, but everyone in the restaurant was still celebrating. Karaoke singing, dim sum dining families were out in full force, and we joined in the celebration with our own private party.
The mall across the street was our next destination, and there we went our separate ways to stroll through the crowded mall and outside streets. A taxi ride in the late afternoon took us back at the World Trade Center, and by early evening we were back on the ship.
Only then we realized we had completely forgotten to drop by the Raffles Hotel, the birthplace of the legendary Singapore Sling drink-which we learned from some of our fellow passengers had cost a hefty $17 at the long bar there that day. So, not to be outdone, we ordered our own Singapore Slings, at $3 apiece, in the Aquarius bar on the ship, and for that price we invited several of the ship's staff to join us for a second round. As we downed the second sling and the ship slowly sailed from the dock into the sunset, we were astonished to see one lonely passenger waving frantically on the dock. It was David, "the president," so-named because he's registered as a presidential candidate and when not aboard our little city, tools around the U.S. on his motorcycle passing out his card. He's got tattoos from Easter Island and a pony tail and plays a guitar, so you've gotta hand him credit for his outrageous ambitions. Anyhow, here was David, stranded on the dock in Singapore. But never fear. He's got gall. Rumor has it he's boarded the Aegean, our sister ship docked in Singapore as well and we'll meet up with David in the Seychelles. (If he wins in a primary, I may be his press secretary just for kicks. Especially since he has no platform and goes around singing only his own original country westerns, he needs all the help he can get.)
So, back to Singapore. We didn't make it to Arab Street, and Little India went by the wayside. The posh Orchard Road district was out of reach, and the fabled aquarium was unseen. But never in my dreams had I imagined I'd ever be strolling through the streets of Singapore on this trip, so I wasn't disappointed. I have an eerie feeling that before too many months go by, I'll be back.