Melaka, Malaysia

Selamat Datang! Welcome to Malaysia!

Waiting at the Singapore bus station.

This morning we all met after breakfast and then walked about fifteen minutes to the bus station. This area was grubbier than other areas of Singapore we'd seen. Much like North American cities, bus stations tend to go in areas that are dirtier and shabbier. The bus arrived 30 minutes late, but our luggage was loaded quickly and we all got on board.

The bus was very out of style, with curtains that clashed with the seats, but it was fairly clean, and seemed to be in working order. Harold and I were in the front two seats right behind the driver.

Looking down the road from the bus station.

We headed out of Singapore, along a very picturesque grass, tree, and flower lined highway and made our way to the border. When we had entered Singapore, we had filled out entry and exit cards. The entry card had been submitted then, and the exit card was put in our passports, to be handed in when we left the country. Tourists from Canada and the U.S. are permitted to stay in Singapore for up to 90 days, so we had lots of time left. At the Singapore border station, we filed out of the bus, walked into a building where we stood in line and submitted our exit cards.

We all got back on the bus and drove a few minutes more where we once again got off the bus, and walked into the Malaysia station. This time we had to take our luggage off the bus, supposedly to be put through a scanner. We stood in line for our turn to show our passports and submit our entry cards. Canadian and US tourists are allowed to stay in Malaysia for up to 3 months without a Visa. The woman stamped our passports a number of times and then we walked through to the scanner area. I guess either someone had called in sick or they were cutting back on hours though, because there was no one there and the scanners were all closed up. We just sauntered through to the other side where our bus awaited us.

We'd been forewarned that we should bring a snack as the bus wouldn't be stopping anywhere we could buy food. We had the pork and beef bak kwa we'd purchased in Chinatown two days earlier and some fruit which was more than enough. We both agreed we enjoyed the pork and chicken bak kwa more than the beef, however, they were all great. We wished we'd bought some of the bacon as well.

Harold and I had first thought ourselves lucky to have the front seat, with views on all three sides, and extra leg room, but we soon discovered it was more of a curse than a blessing. The driver was on his cell phone the entire trip, calling one person after another. Many times, he was driving with his knees, not watching the road, as he needed his other hand and eyes to dial the number. It's bad enough when the driver of a car does this, but seems pure insanity when you are speeding along a highway, weaving in and out of traffic, in a huge bus with a bunch of other's fates in your hands --- I mean knees! He also flirted with pretty much every woman at each of the toll stations, leading me to believe he was probably calling women on the phone as well. A real ladies man, this bus driver.

A few hours later we pulled into the Melaka bus station. The mall attached looked like it was from the 70's, but it was full of locals, all the women dressed in head scarves, some all in black gowns, others in colourful dresses and scarves. Many teen girls and young women wear jeans and other Western style clothing. The one constant is the head scarf and arms and legs covered. We found an ATM and money changer. The currency in Malaysia is Ringits, which were converting at 0.33 to $1 Canadian that day. Singapore dollars had been converted at about 0.80 so we seemed to get a lot of bills  but whether they went further was still to be discovered.

I had my first experience there with a pit toilet in the mall. I had come across them in France many years ago, but it had been a long time, and I really hadn't missed them. I had to pay 20 ringits to be allowed inside to a very smelly room full of women. They don't supply toilet paper, though some will sell you a few squares for another 20 ringits. I was prepared and had my own paper, which I'd "borrowed" from our Singapore hotel. Inside the stall is a tiled floor with a bit of a ledge and a hole in the ground. Coming out of the wall was a garden hose. This is to be used like you'd use a bidet. I made sure not to even touch it, fearing it must surely hold a billion bacteria species. Using the toilet isn't all that big a deal, even with the smells and messiness, it's no worse than using an outhouse or nasty gas station washroom at home.

Taxis outside our hotel.

Right next door to the washrooms is a prayer room. I didn't dare go in, since I didn't want to bother anyone. Malaysia is predominantly Muslim, and we would later realize that all public restrooms are accompanied by prayer rooms.

The taxis there were quite small. Each would hold only 3 passengers and 1 driver. The trunk could barely contain our 3 backpacks and needed to be tied down. We barreled through town, zooming in and out of traffic to the old heritage area of Melaka, where our hotel was located.

Melaka Trishaws arrive.

We had a little over an hour before we were planning to have a tour of the old downtown so we checked into our room and came back downstairs to enjoy some wine in the open air restaurant, while we waited for the others.

Soon, the first of the trishaws began to arrive. A trishaw is a bicycle with an attached sidecar, flamboyantly decorated in flowers, lights, and garlands. Some of them include sound systems that blare out music, top 40 western style, polkas, and other styles. The bicycles are ancient one speed contraptions that appear to be pretty tough to pedal. Luckily for the drivers, Melaka is pretty flat.

One of the many narrow streets.

We all got into the trishaws and were pedaled around the town. Melaka is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. That means it is 1 of only 936 cultural and natural heritage sites in the world considered as having outstanding universal value. Malaysia has 4 such sites, two natural, Gunung Mulu National Park, and Kinabalu Park, and two cultural, Melaka and George Town, Historic Cities of the Straits of Malacca.

One of the many temples in Melaka.

The historic centre of Melaka is made up of narrow streets with two story buildings housing shops, restaurants and many small, beautiful churches, temples and mosques. Due to it being a trade port from the very beginning, many different cultures have made their way to Melaka, and left behind part of their culture, mostly in the temples they built.


Melaka was the earliest Malay sultanate. Before the arrival of the first Sultan, Malacca was a fishing village inhabited by local Malays. It was founded by the last Raja of Singapura (present day Singapore) around 1400. 

Fort A Famosa

There are two different ideas as to how he named it. One is that he was resting under a tree near a river while hunting, when one of his dogs cornered a mouse deer. In self-defence, the mouse deer pushed the dog into the river. He was impressed by the deers courage and decided to name the city Malacca, named for the Tamil word, malakka, which means to fall upside down or on ones back, exactly how the dog had fallen into the river. The second idea is that he named the city after the Melaka tree he was resting under.

Studhuys

In 1511, the city was conquered by the Portuguese and it became a strategic base for the Portuguese in the East Indies. They built the fort, A Famosa, to defend Malacca from the disposed Sultan and his forces. Then the Dutch conquered the Portuguese there in 1641, and ruled it until 1798. Their most important addition is the Stadhuys, or Red Building. Many of the other Government buildings in the area are the same red.


In 1824, Melaka was ceded to the British, in exchange for Bencoolen, on Sumatra. Britain ruled it until 1946 and it became part of the Straits Settlements, along with Singapore, and Penang. Since dissolution, the Governor, rather than a Sultan, acts as the head of state. 

Melaka is made up of 57% Malay, 32% Chinese, and minorities of Indians, Kristang (partial Portuguese ancestry), and Dutch Eurasians. Everyone seems to speak very good English, and we had no problems at all with language.  I have learned two phrases in Malay. One is Selamat Datang (Welcome), which is pasted all over, welcoming people to both Malaysia and Melaka. The other is Dilarang Masuk, which means Danger. I can't say hello yet, but I will know where I am welcome and where I should stay away from!

After our trishaw tour, we wandered the town on foot, shopping and looking around. They had the most beautiful shoes and sandals, but as my feet are a size 9.5, or a 40-41 in European sizes, my feet are two big for the women's shoes. It was a very big disappointment. We picked up a few Asian trinkets, and made our way back to the hotel to meet the others for dinner.

Dinner Entertainment

Everyone showed up for the group dinner in the open-air restaurant under our hotel and it was a festive affair. I had a Singapore Sling, as I had forgotten to have one while in Singapore, and Harold had a Tiger beer. I enjoyed the Sling, but would have preferred wine, so I ordered a glass of wine soon after. For dinner I had Panang Curry, a dry curry which is fried in coconut milk, not boiled, like other curries. It is a thicker, pastier curry because it uses the coconut cream only. It is seasoned with sliced lime leaves and basil leaves. Harold had the chicken and lamb satay, which Melaka is famous for, and it was equally as wonderful as my curry.

After dinner, the group split into two. Some of the women were heading down to a bar down the road, and the other part of the group was planning to go on the night river cruise. We decided to join the group going on the cruise, so we walked down the road and to the river behind the hotel where we boarded a boat full of tourists. The interesting thing here is that the tourists all look local to us, most of them Muslim or Chinese, with very few Westerners.

Ferris wheel along the river.

It was one of our first chances to get to know each other. I still can't remember most of the names and am barely being able to figure out who is from which countries. As there are so many Germans, it is more comfortable for them to speak to each other in German, so it is sometimes difficult to be the only non-Germans, which was the case here. I just smile and look around, and turn my attention to Harold.

Mural along the river.

We cruised down the river, which is decorated with murals, and lights, and interesting points of interest. It is a beautiful sight during the day, and just as beautiful at night. Unfortunately, I had been awake since 4am, and the motion of the boat had me falling asleep, my head bobbing along, waking me each time it started to fall. Once back at the hotel, I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Hotel: Aldy Hotel
27, Jalan Kota, 75000 Melaka, Malaysia
+60 6 2833232 http://www.aldyhotel.com.my/

This is a 3-star boutique hotel, located within the "Red Centre" of the World Heritage Site (UNESCO) of Melaka. It is in a fantastic location, right in the middle of the most visited sites. We could walk to everything. The rooms are clean, with hard beds, free Wifi and Computer kiosks in the lobby. I had no idea how to get the hot water on in the morning and ended up having a cold shower. I later found out there was a switch I needed to hit to warm up the water. Under the hotel is a large, colourful open area restaurant and bar, the Bamboo Hut & Bistro. Their smoothies are very tasty and the Penang curry was fantastic.

Singapore - Day 2

I woke up at 3:30am, and try as I might, I could not get back to sleep. I read for a bit, then decided to bring my journal up to date. At 7am we headed downstairs for our free breakfast, which was very good, a mixture of western style breakfast foods: eggs, sausages, toast, juice and eastern: beans, rice, stirfry, nutella, tea.

This was my second introduction to chicken sausages. We'd had them on our flight as well. They are much like a chicken weiner, far too overprocessed for my liking.

I had previously decided that I should try to drink tea at breakfast instead of coffee, as my lactose issues prohibit me from drinking cow's milk. I had also read that many places in Asia don't pasteurize cow's milk, which can make them dangerous. When I saw the coffee there, I had no problem turning it down, it was like mud, thick and dark, and very unappealing.


First Stop: Sentosa Island

We took the MRT to the Harborfront station, then wandered around the Sky Park mall in search of the cable car over to the island. We must have missed a sign along the way as when we got to the Sky Park, we found that we could see the cable car way over on the other side. We had planned to take the monorail back and found we were close by it, so we changed our plans and went over that way instead.





Sentosa Island is like Singapore's answer to DisneyWorld. The first stop has resorts, Universal Studios, an amusement park, with a huge water park still being built. We skipped that stop and instead got out at the next stop. We "alighted" (a word that highly amuses us when we hear the classy British voice telling us to do this on all the public transportation here) and made our way past the enormous Merlion, up to the Imbiah Lookout.

This area has yet more amusements to spend your money on. The Tiger Sky Tower is a huge, round viewing booth that brings hundreds of elderly people up into the sky to see the view. The Images of Singapore appears to be a walking history of the city. There is a butterfly garden, and a skyride as well, but the amusement we were there for is the Luge ride down the hill to the beaches.

We found we were there 30 minutes before they opened for the day so we decided to sit down and enjoy a Starbucks Frappuccino at $8 each! Their special Christmas drinks are all Frappuccinos rather than the Lattes we have back home. It makes sense since it's so hot there, 34 celcius in the city that day, and 36 on Sentosa Island. Who would want a hot coffee? Harold had a mango passionfruit and I had a soy cranberry white chocolate mocha Frappuccino. So yummy!

The Luge opened promptly at 10am, and already a line had formed. They had a bunch of deals to get you to make multiple purchases. I figured, if it's that good, once should be enough. Harold countered, if it was good, we'd want to do it more than once. But I hate redoing things. We only have so much time in life, and even less on vacation. Why have the same experience over and over and waste the time we could be using to have new experiences?

Of course, it turned out to be great fun. Half way down, I called out excitedly. "Harold!" I exclaimed, "It's so much fun! Can we do it again?" He just shook his head at me.

 Instead, we wandered down the Silosa beach walk, which was exquisitely beautiful, but the perfection got on my nerves. The area is almost all man-made, done as if Disney created it, much too perfect to be real.

There was some sort of Indian Festival just getting started with loud music, women in fancy saris, and the smells of some very aromatic foods. By this time, the temperature was hitting the highs, and we had forgotten to bring along our SPF. We doubled back to a gift shop and were very excited to find they had 30 and 50 SPF lotions there. I had read it could be nearly impossible to find high SPF lotions in Southeast Asia.

We stopped outside to put the sunblock on, and I heard someone making noises behind me. Turning around, I found three Muslim Indian women sitting cross legged on the ground. They were dressed all in black, with robes that reached from neck to toes, and scarves covering their heads with only their faces visible. The woman making noises motioned down at my feet where I saw Harold had dropped his glasses. Picking them up, I smiled and said thank you. She smiled back and motioned to the food in front of them, then her mouth, and then at me. I shook my head, saying "No thank-you." but the other women chimed in, motioning for us to come over and share their meal. How could we not accept?

We walked over to them, and she broke off a bit of sticky rice, which she formed into a ball, then flattened a little bit before dipping it into her curry, and passing it to each of us. The rice was almost like dough balls, very fine, sticky, and a little sweet. The red curry was spicy, but very enjoyably so, very delicious. We thanked them profusely, telling them the food was wonderful and bid them goodbye.

Making our way back, we took the the chairlift up to the lookout. Half way up we passed a chair full of young men.

"Where are you from?" they called out to us.

"Canada!" I yelled back, "Where are you from?"

"Pakistan!" they replied, "Goodbye Canada!".

To which we both responded "Goodbye Pakistan!"

Once at the top, we had to walk inside the gift shop to find the ever elusive cable cars, which took us back to the mainland. Down below us was a spectacle of American proportions, Universal Studios, resorts, huge amusement rides, and the half finished water park. Then we were over the harbour, with 360 degree views of the harbour, city and massive shipping yards.

Back on the mainland, we found ourselves in a mall next door to the one we had been in earlier. No wonder we hadn't been able to find the entry to the cable cars. We were very hungry by this time, but had our hearts set on having lunch in Little India, so we stopped at a small grocery store to buy some fruit. We picked up some bananas that were already very ripe, and some jackfruit.

Enormous and prickly on the outside, jackfruit looks somewhat like durian. Cracking one open, you will find pods or "bulbs" inside, a kind of fleshy covering for the true seeds or pits, which are round and dark like chestnuts. The fleshy part can be eaten as is, or cut up and cooked. When unripe (green), it is remarkably similar in texture to chicken, making jackfruit an excellent vegetarian substitute for meat. In fact, canned jackfruit (in brine) is sometimes referred to as "vegetable meat".

The jackfruit we purchased were ripe bulbs, ready to eat. I almost liked it, but there was a taste I just couldn't enjoy so after a few bites, I left the rest for Harold and enjoyed a very ripe banana instead.

Second Stop: Little India and Kampong Kapor

We exited the MRT station in Little India to find a completely different view of Singapore. Little India is a community of narrow, colourful streets, alive with the scents of Indian spices and incense. It was much less unkempt than the other areas of Singapore we'd been to, but this added to the charm. Bangles, saris, scarves, brassware, jewelry and knickknacks all vied for our attention, with shopkeepers calling out to come view their wares.

We walked through Little India's arts belt with ornately detailed shophouses painted bright colours and the Little India Arcade, a 1920's set of rowhouses saved in the 1980's now a cramped, packed market.

The traffic all over Singapore is very chaotic. Crossing the street, even at crosswalks feels like you are taking your life in your hands. One road in particular, in Little India was thick with cars, and none of them would stop for pedestrians. We followed the lead of the Indians crossing, weaving our way through one lane and the another. A man saw us following him and told us, "In Singapore, it is very important to never run across the street, or the drivers will try harder to hit you and you will be blamed for the car damage!"

Campbell Lane is where a bazaar is held during Deepavali, the festival of lights. We had just missed the festival by a few weeks so there were signs all over still, but the lane was quieter. The lane is where the garland sellers are located. they thread jasmine, marigold, rose petals and buds witn banana leaf fibres. They are bought and placed on statues of deities as prayer offerings and are also used in Hindu wedding ceremonies. They are so beautiful, if I lived there I'd want to buy them for my home.

Masjid Abdul Gafoor, a mosque built in 1907, has  a large sundial at the entrance. It replaced a wood and tiled roof mosque that had been built in 1846. When we got there, many Muslims were arriving for midday prayers. We walked around the courtyard, up to where everyone was leaving their shoes, but didn't feel right going inside while they were all inside.





We stopped for lunch at a vegetarian shop, Komala Vilas, with all the signs of a good ethnic restaurant: busy, full of people who appear to belong there, and the aromas were so enticing. Founded more than 50 years ago, they serve South Indian vegetarian food.

The interior decor was very plain, looking much like a cafeteria, with long formica tables and plastic chairs filled with Indian people enjoying their lunches. Downstairs was completely full, so we made our way upstairs, where we were directed to place our orders. I chose a meal consisting of rice, dhal, sambar, kulambu, rasam, thairu and dosa served on a banana leaf. Harold chose the vegetable biryani which was served on a metal plate with rice, chappati, curry, kuruma, and dhal. They both came with raita, payasam, appalam and pickle. We paid at the cash register, then washed our hands at the sink on the wall, before being lead to our seats.

The waiters came around to pick up our orders, then brought us utensils, and proceeded to set each of us up for our meals. Looking around, I saw everyone else eating with their hands, and realized we had been given the utensils since we were foreigners. We were having none of that, instead watching and mimicking those around us. Why would anyone choose to eat with utensils when it's the custom to eat with one's hands?

From what we could see, the correct way to do it was to use only your right hand to bring small amounts of the differences sauces over to mix in with the rice, then eat with your fingers. I loved the freedom from cutlery but having my hand so dirty got a little on my nerves. It was a small issue however.

The food was wonderful, and we greedily ate it all, only to be confronted with the waiter asking us if we wanted more. There was just no way we could eat anymore, so we made our way to the sink to once again wash our hands and head back out to the street.

After lunch we wandered down the road to the Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple. This Hindu temple, built in 1881, in the style of South Indian Tamil temples, is dedicated to the goddess Kali, who is very popular in Bengal, Northeast India, where the labourers who built the temple came from. There are images inside showing the goddess wearing a garland of skulls ripping out the insides of her victims. Unfortunately, we never got to see anything inside as the temple is closed every afternoon.


We turned the corner onto Belilios Lane, named after J.R. Belilios, at one time the dominant cattle baron in Singapore. There seem to be differing accounts as to where he originated from. He was either a Venetian Jew, or a Jewish Indian from Kolkata. A few blocks down we came across a large park and were disappointed no one was playing cricket there. It was now about 4:30pm and we were to meet the others in our group at 6pm. We just happened across a subway station so we jumped at the chance to head back and  refresh ourselves.

Meeting the Group and dinner at the food carts



Harold and I are used to travelling alone, and have never done any travelling as a group before, other than business travel. All of our personal travel thus far has been in places where it is very easy to get around on our own. We passed the idea back and forth about joining a group. The company we had selected, Gap Adventures, is a Canadian company that is all about adventure. Mostly catering to a young clientele, the onus is on small groups, dealing with local people, taking local transportation, and being immersed in the local cultures. My parents had used them when they went to the Galapagos Islands and Machu Picchu and with the amount of travel they have done, and the type of travel they enjoy, I felt I could trust their judgement.

Our fears were that we might be too old for the group, or it might be too controlled. But there was just no way we'd be able to fit so much in, and get to many of the places if we did it on our own. We'd recently spent a long weekend cruising the San Juan Islands on a big schooner and had really enjoyed the cameraderie of the group. We hoped it would be the same for this trip.

My first thought, when we got downstairs to join the group was, Oh man, they are all so damn young! They all looked like kids to me, with most of them definitely in their 20's. Then I saw a couple definitely older than us, and that made me feel better. They may be very young, I thought, but I'm immature!

It turned out that of the 15 of us, the breakdown was:

Germany - 8
Switzerland - 1
New Zealand - 2
UK - 1
Portugal - 1
Canada - 1 (me!)
US - 1 (Harold)
Thailand - our CEO (Chief Experience Officer)

We discussed the trip ahead of us, and the next day's plans before heading out for dinner at the local food carts. We had passed these carts a number of times and Harold kept talking about having the Pig Intestine Soup, but once we got there, he settled on a stirfry instead. I was so disappointed. After dinner, we purchased a bottle of wine from 7-11 and headed back to our room to rest. We were exhausted and the trip was only beginning.


Hotel: Hotel Bencoolen
47 Bencoolen Street, Singapore, 189626
+65 63360822 http://www.hotelbencoolen.com/
This was a middle of the road hotel, clean and well supplied, even disposable toothbrushes. It is in a good location, a short walk to the Bras Basah MRT station, National Museum of Singapore, shops and restaurants. They charge for Internet and you should beware of free Internet wifi in the area. We had issues with our netbook and my Gmail account was compromised after logging in through a free Wifi from our room.

Singapore - Day 1

We arrived just after 5am local time, to a very beautiful, comfortable, clean, and organized airport. We quickly raced ahead of the crowd, breezed through Immigration, picked up our packs, withdrew cash, and headed to the MRT, Singapore's subway system. The first washroom I hit, was so pristine and smelled wonderfully welcoming. I felt I could have eaten in there, but I suspect that would not be okay.

Entering the MRT station, you are welcomed by a high class British voice, of the type you hear in all high tech futurific movies. The voice tells you that eating, drinking, and smoking are not allowed anywhere in the station or on the trains. She also warns you of the danger of terrorist attacks and to always keep your items in hand and report any suspicious activities.

The MRT cards are made of a very hard cardboard, and carry a $1 deposit. You select the station you wish to go to, and enter the amount noted. You scan the card on the way in and then again on the way out, before heading to the machine to hand in your card and receive your deposit back. It's a great system, with no waste at all.

Going down the escalator, we quickly surmised we were to stand on the left side, not the right, as is expected back home. It was so pleasing to see everyone so neat and ordered, all walking and standing on the left, and also standing back until everyone exited the train, then filing in. Younger people stand up to allow older and less able people to sit, and there is absolutely no garbage at all anywhere in the stations, or trains.

We definitely felt very at ease from the moment we arrived. Everything is so clean, calm, and organized. There appear to be little to no homeless and no one begging. It appears to be a perfect society.

Our hotel allowed us to check-in early but they only had a room with two single beds. We decided to nap for 2 hours since it was so early and we were so tired, but after a half hour, we got up. We were just too excited to lay in bed.

First Stop: China Town 

We headed to Chinatown where we visited a number of Buddhist temples, one Hindu temple, and a Mosque. First was one of Singapore's oldest, Thian Hock Keng Temple, a red and black lacquer and gilt Chinese temple, built in 1841. It was under reconstruction and parts of it were unviewable, but it was definitely worth a visit. The original wood and thatch 'Joss house', was built 20 years before the temple, by Chinese immigrants who wanted to pray for safe passage to the patron goddess of sailors.

Next we took a peak into the Jamae Mosque, one of the earliest mosques in Singapore, built in 1826. This mosque is also known as Chulia Mosque, Maideen Mosque and the Big Mosque among the Tamil Muslim community in Singapore.





A block away is the Sri Mariamman temple, built in 1827, with an ornate tower called a gopuram, completed in the 1860's. The Hindu temple is dedicated to Sri Mariannan, the great Mother goddess of health and prosperity.

In the mosques and temples, it is necessary to take off your shoes and be dressed modestly. This means that shorts and bare arms are not allowed. It's surprising how many tourists don't take note of this, which is why many of the temples have shawls and scarves for them to borrow and be allowed entry. I found that with my pants that zip off into shorts and my shirt with sleeves that roll down, I was fine no matter what we came across.



Just another block down Mosque street is the Buddha Tooth Relic Temple, a Buddhist temple dedicated to Maitreya Buddha. The temple has six levels with museums, a rooftop garden, tea house and gift shop.

We shopped in the bazaar where I bought two hair clips and a bracelet, after choosing and re-choosing many others.

All of a sudden, the skies opened up and rain poured from the sky in torrents. I was so thankful Harold had reminded me to put my umbrella in my daypack, but even that couldn't stop us from getting soaked.



Our last stop in Chinatown was at a famous Bak Kwa store, Lim Chee Guan, where we ordered BBQ pork, chicken, and beef strips, that are much like jerky, but so much tastier and tender. We sampled our chicken bak kwa, and saved the others for later.

A Chinese woman came out of the store laden down with bags of items she told us she was taking back to Hong Kong. She told us this was the best Bak Kwa store in the world, and people come from all over to purchase there. I'm so glad we stopped.

Second Stop: The National Museum of Singapore 

This museum comprises two main fixed galleries and a changing gallery that houses temporary exhibits. Built in 1887, it was extensively renovated a few years back. It is all white, very airy and monumental in a tropical, flowing, neo-colonial style.

We only made it through the History Gallery as there is just so much information, it took us a long while to get through it. We missed the Living, and temporary galleries altogether. I wish we`d had more time.








Third Stop: Goodwood Park & Orchard Mall

My parents had told us this hotel had the most wonderful High Tea they had ever had, so we planned to eat there instead of lunch and dinner. We arrived by MRT to a high tech, flashy area, Orchard Mall. We wound around and around the underground passageways that seemed to go on for miles, one high-end store after another. Climbing outside we found a high end shopping area to rival all the best such shopping areas of the world. It was bright and fancy and we could have been in any city in the world, all the expected high fashion names were available.

We made our way up to a very beautiful, older, classic hotel named Goodwood Park. The sign outside the restaurant gave the times and prices and said they were serving High Tea, but when we went inside, we found only an Asian buffet. No scones, no tiny sandwiches, no pastries, or clotted cream, and the only tea they had was "Lipton" from a carafe.

There was no way we were going to pay $38 each for Asian buffet in a high scale restaurant when we could have even better for a fraction of the price at the food carts around the city. Harold made an excuse to the waitress about feeling ill and asked to settle up for the coffee and tea, that we hadn't had even a sip of, and she charged us $13 ... I felt ripped off.

Fourth Stop: Clark Quay & Boat Quay

Clark Quay was named for the 2nd Governor of Singapore, whereas Boat Quay's name came from the road that runs parallel to the river. Boat Quay soon became crowded by Chinese immigrants because the shape of the river there resembles the belly of a well-fed Carp, a sign of wealth and prosperity. It's a touristy area along the Singapore river, lined with restaurants and bars of all ethnicities.




We chose a SE Asian restaurant, and sat right out on the water. I once again had curry. This time, a red chicken curry that was just wonderful. Harold had a dish of noodles and seafood in broth that was very close to what he'd had in Shanghai, though he swore they were different. Wine was expensive, so we decided to only have a glass, and instead stop at the wine bar by our hotel on the way back.


After dinner, we wandered down river to the site where Sir Stamford Raffles first landed on January 29, 1819. There is a big white statue of him alongside the river and behind him is City Hall, Old Parliament House, the Supreme Court and other buildings of Singapore's colonial core.

As we walked down alongside the river, we saw an apparition appear in front of us. It looked like a huge ship on top of three highrise buildings. My tour book said nothing of it, and I couldn`t wait to get back to the hotel to find out what it was. It turned out to be the Marina Sands Hotel & Casino built in February 2011 by the Las Vegas Sands Corp.

The river walk is lined with stores, restaurants, and bars and the river is alive with all sorts of boats. Statues depicting important historical scenarios are interspersed along the way.

Fifth Stop: Cavanaugh Pedestrian Bridge and the Fullerton Hotel



We crossed the Singapore River over the Cavanaugh pedestrian bridge, built in 1867, and made our way to the Fullerton Hotel. Originally built in 1928, at the mouth of the Singapore River, as the Singapore General Post Office, but was later turned into a beautiful, and luxurious hotel.







Wandering around inside, we saw many groups of people enjoying afternoon tea, the very kind we had hoped to find at Goodwood Park. Unfortunately, we were already full from an early dinner, so it was now out of the question. Next time in Singapore, we`ll definitely have to try it.







Last Stop: In search of wine

After a bit more wandering around the area, we headed back to to a wine bar we`d seen that morning,  right beside our hotel. Inside, we found we were the only patrons, but it was still early.

Back home, calling an establishment a wine bar means a bar catering to a variety of wines. We selected a Cabernet Sauvignon, but were told they were out of it, so we chose a Shiraz. They didn`t have that either. What about the Merlot? we asked. No, that was also not available. At this point, we decided it might be easier to hear what they did have ... they had one red wine, a French wine we were fairly certain we wouldn`t like. We were now wondering how they could call themselves a wine bar. We excused ourselves and decided to frequent the Irish Pub down the road, Molly Malone's, all the while ridiculing ourselves.



An American and a Canadian go into an Irish Pub in Singapore and order an Australian Cabernet ... and it was well worth the ridicule.


After enjoying our Australian Cabernet, we headed back to our hotel, where we watched a Taiwanese soap opera, with English subtitles. I had enjoyed watching similar shows when we were in Hawaii, and this one was just as dramatic. Party animals that we are, we were fast asleep by 8:30pm Singapore time.

Hotel: Hotel Bencoolen
47 Bencoolen Street, Singapore, 189626
+65 63360822 http://www.hotelbencoolen.com/
This was a middle of the road hotel, clean and well supplied, even disposable toothbrushes. It is in a good location, a short walk to the Bras Basah MRT station, National Museum of Singapore, shops and restaurants. They charge for Internet and you should beware of free Internet wifi in the area. We had issues with our netbook and my Gmail account was compromised after logging in through a free Wifi from our room.

Shanghai

There is a 16 hour time difference between Vancouver and Shanghai, so even though we left Vancouver on Thursday at noon, it became 4am on Friday for us as soon as we got on the plane and changed our watches.

We flew China Eastern on our way West. The food was pretty good for airline food, and we had a good amount of leg room, but there was only one tv screen every few rows in the centre of the plane, and the washrooms weren't very clean and were out of most of the items in the little named compartments. Thankfully I had brought my own hand soap and all the shows were non-English anyway.

When I had tried to find how to pre-book our seats on their web site, I had been frustrated to find their English site was completely unusable with mostly error pages. Why have an English site if it can't be used? Seeing that we were the only non-Asians on the plane cemented the point that we are not their target market. However, all the flight attendants spoke fairly good, if heavily accented English and were very kind and attentive.

Just before landing, the televisions changed to show people doing pre-landing stretching exercises. This is the sort of thing, if shown on a North American flight, I'd want to do, but would feel silly because everyone else would ignore it. So I was delighted to see most people on the flight following along, and I happily joined in along with them. It endeared me to the others on the plane.

Shanghai Pudong Airport is an industrial mass of steel and stone. Massive and reaching to the sky, it appears to have been built with the object of portraying power and strength, and caring nothing of comfort or pleasure. We were corralled down a long cold grey hallway to Immigration, where they took our picture and information, to be stored in their database. I had originally checked to see if we would be allowed to leave the airport, but it was too lengthy and costly to bother getting a Visa for only a few hours. We were sure we wouldn't be allowed out of the secured area of the airport so we fumbled around, not understanding what to do. The only way to go looked like we were headed out of the secured area. We wandered around confused until a security officer took pity on us, waved us over and let us out through a little hidden side door, telling us to go through and up the escalator to the departures area.

It was strange being allowed into what we perceived as freedom. If we walked 10 feet to the doors outside, would we be stopped or could we go on unfettered? Would there be additional checkpoints? We were more interested in finding where to go than testing Chinese security, so we headed upstairs, where we wound our way through chaotic little alleyways of shops that appeared to have been haphazardly thrown together.

Once again we had to head through Immigration, then security. China obviously doesn't worry about shoe bombers as we were allowed to keep our shoes on through the process. Canada only requires this for International flights, not domestic, and it's the one part of the process I really hate, especially if I wear sandals. Then I end up walking through the area in bare feet.

By the time we reached Shanghai, it was already dinnertime. We decided to stop for a meal and wine in one of the restaurants in the airport. We chose a Chinese Cabernet Sauvignon with a rather stereotypical name "Great Wall of China". I didn't care for it at first but it got better with my green curry. Harold had a seafood and noodles in broth dish. Both were good, but not great. What can you expect from airport food?

We were happy to find the airport has free Wifi, and then both disappointed and amused to recognize the reason we couldn't get to Facebook or Google ... duh! China doesn't allow them! It felt so claustrophobic and controlled.

After wining and dining, we found our departure gate. With 4 hours still to go, we stretched out on the uncomfortable steel seats and slept almost right up until boarding time. Awakening, we found the waiting area full of people, mostly Asian, and mostly young college age. We were channelled through the gates like cattle, onto a bus, then driven across the tarmac to another flight field, where we were let off, to board our flight.

Ten minutes after take-off, we were both fast asleep, and didn't awaken until 1.5 hours out from Singapore. I watched a wonderful storm through my window, with lightning crackling across the sky, lighting up huge areas of clouds. It made me think of ancient people looking up and wondering if the gods were angry. It also made me think of a Disneyland ride, made just for my entertainment.

Vancouver

Every vacation I go on seems to start the same, with an all-nighter cramming on a last minute emergency. So even before we left I was sleep deprived, having had only 1.5 hours of sleep. I figured I'd have lots of time to make it up on our overseas flights, but of course, it's really hard to get a good, deep sleep in a plane seat, at least when you travel in economy class.

Coincidently, my Mother was flying to Toronto to see my brother and his family, and her flight was 20 minutes after us, so my stepfather lucked out and was able to drive us all at the same time. It seemed like such a luxury to actually fly from Vancouver.

Whenever we fly in North America, we usually choose to fly from Bellingham or Seattle since the cost is so much cheaper, but to most of Asia, the rates seem to be better or comparable from Vancouver. This is probably because we have such a large Asian community in Vancouver.

I hadn't worked out in advance how long it would take us until we were on the plane, as if that would save me from the pain: 13 hours to Shanghai, a 6 hour layover, and another 6 hour flight to Singapore, 25 hours altogether. It turned out not as interminable as I first worried, since we both managed to sleep a lot.