My Walk From Coast To Coast
Prologue
In the month of December, 2021, I conceived a plan to
walk across Singapore, from West Coast to East, all in a day. One may ask, why
indulge in such an activity, when all it would achieve would be to tire oneself
out? If the objective were to the East Coast, couldn’t it be more comfortably
and much more quickly achieved by a means of transportation? Well, I had always
enjoyed running as an entertainment as much as a form of physical exercise,
being able to venture to new places and see Nature on route. Not being a
marathoner, I knew that I would not have the ability to cover the distance
required for a coast-to-coast effort by running. Furthermore, walking at a
leisurely pace would allow me to see more of Singapore and appreciate its
beauty in a way that I had never done before.
I realized that a great challenge towards putting any
sort of plan to practice was to commit to it, especially if it involved twenty
or thirty kilometres of walking to the other side of Singapore. For sure, that
would require a day of leave, and at least a day of recovery after. This
wouldn’t be a problem, as I had earlier applied for two weeks of leave in
December, the pandemic having seen an accumulation of leave dates due to
restrictions on travel and other leisure activities. And yet I needed something
else to truly commit to the endeavour. Thus, during the first few days of my
leave, I decided to cast the die on the plan and (somewhat impulsively) booked
a room in a 3-star hotel near the East Coast on a Thursday of the coming week. I
knew that a walk from coast-to-coast would be an extremely tiring affair and
had no doubt that I would need to find accommodation close to the end point,
which I had decided to be East Coast Park. The hotel I booked, Snooze Hotel in
Marine Parade, was less than 1 km away from the park according to the online
booking site. I had no idea where it was located, but that would fix my
itinerary afterwards.
Now
that my coast-to-coast walk had become a certainty (unless I wanted to forfeit
the hundred dollars it cost for the hotel room), I had to decide on a starting
point. Starting from our home in Upper Bukit Timah Rd was naturally considered
at first. However, Bukit Timah had always been a transport node, with major
arteries radiating out from it. That meant that it was too built up for what I
intended to be a scenic route. As far as possible, my walk would attempt to
traverse parks and gardens, staying away from heavily built-up areas and
industry. Fortunately, this was still possible in Singapore, a well-reputed
`Garden City’, and my walk eventually demonstrated the fact.
Fortunately
too (for this coast-to-coast plan), we were living in the west, and West Coast
Park which I deemed an ideal starting point was easily accessible from our
place. Thus, my plan was beginning to take shape. West Coast Park to East Coast
Park had a nice ring to it, and gave the impression that I was going to
traverse our island state from East to West. In reality however, the two parks
were roughly located in the southwest and southeast of the island, respectively
which made the walk shorter than a purely East to West one. Whatever the
geographical inaccuracy, I wasn’t complaining, as this worked for me!
So,
my plan was formulated as such- I would leave the house at 7 am and get to West
Coast Park by eight. By eight or nine pm of the same day, I would check into
Snooze Hotel on the opposite side of the island, where I would spend the night
resting my tired legs and return home the next day.
1. West
Coast- A Walk in the Park
EARLY in the morning of 9th December, I found
myself spreading peanut butter on bread that would serve as my sustenance
during my long walk East. Other items of preparation had been together with I
Chun's help-- a charged power bank to sustain the ever important smart phone
for the duration of my journey, an old towel to serve as my rest mat during pit
stops, a change of clothes and even little bottles of shampoo and shower gel
for my stay at the Hotel. All were packed into Audrey's knapsack that I had borrowed
for the trip, except for the water bottle which had its own zip-up carrier and
strap, which I had found to be of great convenience during the trip. As
planned, I left the house at almost seven o' clock sharp, to begin my long walk
from coast to coast.
All ready to go at the start
of the journey
The playground at West coast Park- Then and Now
Compulsary selfie to mark the beginning of my journey
I had planned this walk across the island, not just to enjoy
the sights, but to see first-hand how the locals lived and played, and id this
had changed in any way due to the pandemic. At West Coast Park, despite the now
ubiquitous masking up (for which the great majority were compliant), I was glad
to see many people indulging in leisure activities - some were displaying their
colourful parakeets, while others were photographing wildlife. Ever present
were the joggers, and walkers, like myself. The first leg of my journey through
West Coast Park should have been a walk in the park, both literally and
figuratively. Strangely however, I was plagued by doubts and worry- did I stuff
too many unnecessary items into my knapsack? Were the straps too narrow and
didn’t it seem to exert too much pressure on my shoulders? Would all this
impact the likelihood of achieveing my objective of completing the walk, or
enjoying it at all? The more I worried, the more my goals appeared to be out of
reach. Then I remebered – it was always better to be mindful of the moment, to
just enjoy the gift of the present. Morning sunlight filtering through the
verdant leaves surrounding me on all sides, the chirping of birds and insects,
reverberating in the early morning air. Just like that, I began to enjoy my
walk, and the burden of my knapsack and pressure of the straps on my shoulders
lessened considerably. Before long, I had literally emerged from the gloom and
out into the sunlight. I was on Pasir Panjang Road and just half an hour away
from my first pit-stop.
The lovely scenery of West Coast Park
2. Haw Par Villa
It was interesting to reflect that one of my earliest
impressions of Singapore had been formed at Haw Par Villa itself. In the
mid-70s, before I had even gone to school in Melaka, Papa and Mummy had brought
the family to Singapore for a holiday. At that point in time, Haw Par Villa was
on of the must-go destinations offered by our southern neighbour, attracting
busloads of tourists from around the region. In fact, the Tiger Balm Gardens
remained popular, way into the 80s. When my secondary school class organized a
trip to Singapore in 1985, the Gardens were again in the itinerary. During
these early visits to Singapore, I had never imagined that I would spend a
major part of my life, settle down and eventually raise my own children in this
island state. I only had an inkling of that future when I received an ASEAN
scholarship to pursue my A’ Levels in Singapore. When previous batches of ASEAN
scholars had been posted to more centrally located collages such as Raffles and
National Junior Colleges, I was in the first batch assigned to a JC near the
East Coast, Temasek Junior College in Bedok.
At this early point during my walk, however, the East Coast
was still a long way off. Still, I could not contain my delight upon spotting
the Chinese-style, white brick walls of Haw Par Villa that marked its southern
boundary on Pasir Panjang Road. I was amongst the earliest visitors to arrive
and check in at the ticketing booth outside the amusement park. Entrance was
free to the general attractions and ticketing was only for special attractions
like the Hell’s Museum (which I hadn’t intended to visit anyway). But as for
other places of interest in the time of the pandemic, there were SafeEntry
checkers looking at our vaccination status before allowing entry.
This first pitstop however, was an experience out of the
ordinary. Now, remember that I was alone, with not a single person in sight.
Around me, there was a dazzling array of exhibits, from stalls exhibiting more
exploits of Monkey King, to an obelisk in memory of Haw Par villa’s founder, to
chinese style roofs of red and green. Suddenly, a strain of 1950s era music,
gramophone-like in its quality, permeated the air. A feeling of nostalgia swept
over me, in a surreal fashion. The ghosts of yesteryear were populating the
barren grounds of Haw Par Villa again, and I felt transported back in time!
Like any other surreal experience however, I lack the words to describe what
actually transpired. It suffices to say, however, that the experience was quite
beautiful. By the time they were playing `Rose, Rose, I love you’, I was glad
that I was on this rather impulsively planned journey to see Singapore from
coast to coast, all in one day.
Spotting the white walls of Haw Par Villa along Pasir Panjang
Road
Transported back in time and space at Haw Par Villa
3. Kent Ridge (I Kent abRidge This Part)
A feature of Google-map planned walks, for all its
technology, is the inability to predict exactly what route one would take on
the day itself. Sometimes this leads to a quandary, as I had experienced
before, where the path led to a cul-de-sac, or some inaccessible private
estate. Other instances though, may provide for a pleasant surprise. At Haw Par
Villa, I was rewarded for my enthusiasm in exploring deeper into the park, no
doubt energized by the earlier surreal experience. Through no prior planning, I
came across the northern gate of the park, which allowed traffic access (the
southern gate through which I had entered only permitted guests on foot).
Exiting via this gate, I found a quaint path weaving through condominium estates
that led to Zehnder Road. This in turn, gave me access to South Buona Vista
Road, which was essentially my entry point into Kent Ridge Park! If I had
instead trekked back to the southern gate, that would have meant almost an
extra km more of walking, and I was grateful for every calorie of reserve
saved! However, getting into Kent Ridge Park itself required me to first take
on Vigilante Drive, and believe me, it was a struggle! The highest point of
Kent Ridge is about 60 m above sea level and the walk leading into the park
certainly felt like it. The moment I made it to the parking lot where treks
into the forest often began for many visitors, I was clearly out of steam, and
decided to catch a breather at a quiet pavillion nearby.
Arriving at Vigilante Drive at the foot of Kent Ridge park
and the much needed rest at a pavillion a few minutes after
I had spent a significant part of my life at Kent Ridge- not
the park itself, but the National University of Singapore (NUS) where I studied
and King Edward VII (KEVII) Hall, where I lodged during my undergraduate years.
Both were located on the ridge, so you might say that I was used to the
terrain. NUS has been jokingly referred to as the National University of
Stairs, while the strenuous trek back and forth from campus to our KEVII Hall
involved trudging up all of the 127 steps to our hostel!
In 1989, I became a freshman in NUS, moving from the Eastern
part of Singapore where I had spent two years of Junior College life. I would
spend four years of my life as an undegrad at NUS, but those were a significant
and formative four years. It was during this time that I met my life partner,
who was studying at the same course at the university, while synthesiszing
compounds in the Chemistry Organic Lab. One might say that we had stumbled upon
the right chemistry during those practical sessions! Coincidentally, and
fortunately, I Chun was also a resident at the same hostel, thus I could be
frequently spotted negotiating the rugged terrain that separated the blocks of
KEVII Hall in order to visit her. The trek was made more arduous by the fact
that I was residing in Blk E, and she in Blk B, which was located in a distant
wing of the hostel compound.
Now, I was summoning both spirit and physical strength while
resting in the pavillion on Kent Ridge, reluctant to leave the shade of my
present refuge for the sweltering heat outside. During all my pitstops on this
Coast-to-Coast trip, I had decided to limit my rest to half an hour stops,
making sure to pace myself and not go too fast, nor stalling for too long and
losing the momentum. Thus, I was soon heaving up my knapsack and water carrier
to carry on with the walk. I followed the signboards to Canopy Walk, which
encouraged me as it gave the impression of a shaded path where I would enjoy a
reprieve from the heat of the mid-day sun. What I didn’t realize was that I had
to first get to canopy level, which was uphill all the way! Fortunately, my
initial impression was realised, and I soon found myself in relatively cool
surroundings, a dwarf amongst the giant leafy trees. It was almost a
dreamscape, a vision that mental wellness gurus often ask their students to
conjure up during meditation. I was effortlessly gliding through a chamber of
brown pillars and an unbroken green roof, admitting but blobs of sunlight that
dappled the path below. For a moment, the weariness in my feet disappeard,
replaced by an overwhelming sensation of awe. I thought to myself that this
experience alone was making my trip worth it! As I climbed upward, I gradually
found myself at a level higher than most of the trees and at one point, the
grand vista of blue sky and distant scenery suddenly opened up. This was the
highest point of Kent Ridge Park, marked not only by the information boards but
by the handful of tourists that were snapping photographs, resting and chatting
along the narrow metal-grilled walkway.
Enjoying the scenery at the highest point of Kent Ridge Park
As I descended on the other side, it was also approaching
noon. Walking into Hort Park, I was relieved to find a sheltered rest area with
wooden benches, vending machine and quite importantly, toilets. I decided that
this was a good place to rest, a decision that was sealed rather quickly in the
growing heat of the late morning. I was
glad to see that there were other groups of people there, besides myself. They
were all in exercise apparel and track shoes, so I surmised that they were on a
trek, just like me. It was good to see and hear families and friends bantering
while resting tired legs and using the facilities there, maybe a sign that I
was already missing civilisation! I closed my eyes to rest properly, always
aware that the success or failure of my adventure depended on how well I
conserved and expended my energy during the walk. The heat outside was a concern-
so far, I had been walking a relatively sheltered path. I certainly did not
relish leaving the green Southern Ridges, of which Kent Ridge was part of, and
emerging into the city area right smack in the early afternoon, a fate that I
was certainly headed for if the current weather persisted.
Alexandra Peak and Henderson Waves
I returned from Johns Hopkins and Baltimore in early 2004,
reunited with my family and ready to serve the bond that I had incurred upon
undertaking my postdoc study on scholarship. Unbeknownst to me when I began my
new job as a research scientist was that I wasn’t actually quite ready.
Initially at least, I could not bring myself to enjoy the environment of my new
working place. It was in fact, quite a difficult time, but I was fortunately saved
by a supportive family, friends and colleagues, the latter of whom I shared a
camaraderie of sorts. We were all more or less facing the same difficulties,
but also sharing the same joys. For instance, there was a bright side to our
work culture as well. For all the perceived shortcomings of our job
environment, our bosses recognized the value of team spirit and bonding. They
organized staff retreats almost yearly, events where staff got to know each
other, had fun together, and bonded. We enjoyed our time away from work at
Sentosa island, Sembawang, Pulau Ubin, and even the neighbouring Indonesian
island of Batam.
Leaving one of my longer pit stops at the Hort Park shelter,
I recalled a particularly memorable event at the Southern Ridges itself. Our
institute had organized a walk cum run beginning from Kent Ridge Park, cutting
through Hort Park, up into Alexandra Peak and Henderson Waves, then finishing
at the foot of Mount Faber itself. Being quite an avid jogger, I decided to run
the route. I recall that the run was far from a breeze, especially the struggle
up Henderson Waves in the blazing afternoon sun. One seemingly trivial memory
(that I somehow retain!) was that of a young Egyptian colleague bearing a
knapsack, who was running quite effortlessly ahead of me, and thinking to
myself that for him, this must pale in comparison to the Sahara!
Now it was time for me to brave the Peak and the Waves for
the second time in my life. Although it was now a walk instead of a run, the
effort required was no less strenuous. A section of Alexandra Peak where a
handrailed path ran through the canopy of trees in zig zag fashion was
extremely tiring, and my feet felt heavy as lead at the end of it. Here, I
found a tar road that would link me to Henderson Waves and stagerred two
hundred metres or so to arrive at a rather barren car park. In the corner of my
eye, I spotted an empty patch of greenery in the shade of some trees. Alexandra
Peak had certainly knocked the wind out of me. It was nothing to be ashamed of,
but I knew that I had arrived at my next pitstop. I laid the towel that I Chun
had prepared as my `picnic mat’ onto the grass, then proceeded to lay myself
down horizontally upon it.
It was around mid-day and I felt that I needed this break
more than ever, since the beginning of the journey. I took liberal gulps of
fluid from my water bottle. Thankfully, the last pitstop at Hort Park had a
vending machine that dispensed isotonic drinks, which was exactly what I
needed, and I had replenished my water supply. I lay flat on that patch of
grass, with my baseball cap covering my forehead and eyes, a loosened mask shading
the rest of my face. Above me, broad, green leaves were enjoying the energy of
the sunlight, allowing but stray splinters to reach the ground.
After having the much needed rest, it was time to move on.
Like Alexandra Peak, Henderson waves was also an uphill walk in the sun. This
time however, the climb seemed to be less daunting and more gradual in its
slope and turns. The Waves was like a broad, Avant-Garde design wooden bridge
at canopy level, offering spectacular views of the surroundings. For me, it was
also time to leave the Southern Ridges and venture into Singapore city proper.
The exit to Teluk Belangah Road was a series of rather steep steps downwards,
which convinced me that I had been travelling the high road for a while. Out of
the forest, my first priority was to locate my next planned pitstop, which was
Bukit Purmei Hillock Park.
Lying flat on my mat after the strenuous trek at the Peak,
`neath the shade of trees
Spectacular view from the Henderson Waves
Bukit Purmei and Kampung Bahru
I was born and raised in the historical town of Melaka, Malaysia.
Our home was located in a suburban area with a landscape of small hills, and
they possessed some interesting names. Bukit Baru, where our residence was,
meant `New Hill’. Nearby was Bukit Beruang, `Bear Hill’ and `Bukit Serindit’
named after a type of parrot, where some of my cousins lived. Not far off was `Bukit
Piatu’ which meant `Orphan Hill’ and `Bukit Gondol’ which meant `Bald Hill’.
Papa told me that a fire had once caused the bald patch near the latter peak
which was now devoid of greenery, hence the name.
As I was walking in the vicinity of Bukit Purmei, I wondered
what it actually meant, having not remembered seeing the word `Purmei’ in my
Malay lexicon. For now, I was more concerned with locating the place itself,
and was happy to catch sight of a small hill with shocks of greenery within
several minutes. On the approach however, I was a little concerned, as orange
tape appeared to cordon off the area, going for some way around the hill. It
was common during the pandemic to have parks and recreational areas closed off
due to social distancing concerns. Unlike the park areas traversed during the
earlier part of my walk, suitable rest areas were more difficult to come by in
the city area, and I certainly didn’t want to lay a mat on the sidewalk or
pavements! Once again, however, I was in luck. The cordoned area was just a
small part of the hill undergoing renovation. I clambered up the slope to the
peak of the hill where I saw what I thought was a senior seated on a bench in a
meditative pose. On closer inspection, he appeared to be reading and smoking a
cigarette instead! Nearby, I spotted an empty, well-shaded pavillion and
instantly assumed it as my next resting place.
Bukit Purmei allowed me to have a good rest, some time to
charge my smart phone and to get a handle on my progress. It was slightly after
12 pm, and I was approximately halfway along in my journey. Having reached this
point after walking (and resting) for about four hours, I was doing good time
and on target to reach East Coast by early evening.
I felt somewhat refreshed after the 'half-time' recess at
Bukit Purmei, partly because I refused to move on until it was almost one, to
rest properly and pace myself. There was a seven eleven amongst a row of shops
at the foot of the hillock. I craved for an ice cream at that juncture, but
again, I (wisely) restrained myself, having a greater need for a toilet than
more fluid. The Purmei township stood out to me for two reasons. Firstly Google
maps soon brought me to a small and quaint roundabout, the likes of which you
would hardly see in the middle of the city. Secondly, that was where I had my
second surreal experience of the day. The maps told me to go right and the
roundabout, and so I did, into a little lane. But where I expected to see more
concrete flats or shop houses, was a gently descending slope dotted with
coconut trees and the odd banana tree. To add to the strangeness, I was sure I
had come to this place before, a bona fide deja vu! As I walked the
path, I passed a small wooden house with a zinc roof and a whiff of poultry (or
rather their produce) emanating from within the compound. Glancing back at the
hut, I discerned a pair of eyes looking back at me through the gaps in the
wall! If this had happened in the middle of the night, I would have been
terrified. Instead, I felt a tinge of embarrassment for having intruded on the
privacy of the occupant in broad daylight.
Bukit Purmei led out to Jalan Kampung Bahru. At about this
point, I surmised that Purmei was actually an adulteration of the Malay word,
'Permai', which meant picturesque. I was proved right after passing the gate of
a condominium with the correctly spelled word in its name. The word evoked a
tranquil setting, and idyllic peaceful surroundings. Peace and tranquility,
though, are not to be taken for granted, and harmony is often upset during the
long and winding course of history. On the now ignominious date of 13th May, 1969, racial riots broke out in Malaysia. Mummy, who was
a nursing sister at the General Hospital then, had to spend nights at the
hospital due to the curfew, which was probably more difficult for her, as she
was carrying me at the time.
A pedestrian path on Kampung Bahru flyover soon brought me
over Keppel viaduct and into a Northeastern route, headed towards Chinatown. I
had worried that my route towards town would be made difficult due to lack of
shelter from the sun, but luckily, some cloud cover was providing relief. As I
skirted Singapore General Hospital and walked up Eu Tong Sen Street, the sky
quite suddenly turned from bright to overcast, and a few drops of rain even
began to fall. I was rejuvenated, not just by the weather, but by the familiar
sight of Chinatown, bringing with it another flurry of memories from
yesteryear.
Memorable
pitstop at Bukit Purmei and its quaint roundabout
An idyllic grove of coconut trees in the middle of the city
and my second surreal experience of the day
Beacons of religious and ethnic harmony in the vicinity of Bukit Purmei
Chinatown
After completing my undergrad education at NUS in 1992, I
found myself with some aptitude and enthusiasm for research, and thus signed up
to do graduate work with Dr Eugene Khor of the Department of Chemistry. By this
time, both I Chun and myself had moved out of the hall and moved in to live
with her parents (my eventual in-laws). During my first few years of living
there, it was essentially with I Chun’s mum and her siblings, as her dad was
then working as a plywood factory manager in China. Home, while a little
crowded, was comfortable, and a place to get away from the challenges and
travails of research life.
I wanted to spend the weekends in a meaningful way, so I Chun
and myself signed up for an event by the National Council of Social Services
(NCSS), where various voluntary groups would be giving talks for the purpose of
recruiting volunteers to their cause. I Chun had considered signing up for
volunteer work with children, however there was no suitable vacancy. I would of
course be going with her choice, but as that option was no longer possible, I
volunteered for another activity- visiting senior citizens living in 1-room
flats in Chinatown.
On my first Sunday as a volunteer, I found myself at the void
deck of Blk 51, where the lady from NCSS introduced me to a group of existing
volunteers. The instructions were simple. I was just supposed to come along
with them while they visited the homes of the seniors, most of whom were old
ladies. Visiting took place from the ground floor up, our leader holding a list
of the flat numbers that we were supposed to cover each Sunday. As the medium
of conversation was Cantonese, I could understand practically nothing! But as
we gathered around, sitting on the floor of the simple flats with these ladies,
I understood almost immediately the reason why we were there and the value of
our work. Oft times, giving only requires a listening ear and keeping company,
and I was qualified for that. At times, I would massage the limbs of those who
needed us too, and once in a while converse in Malay with those who understood.
Some days, we would deliver cheap lunches to the residents in the neighbourhood
and on other days, help the seniors with simple activities or games at the void
deck.
Soon I was approaching the end of my graduate research and
much work beckoned. Significant life events were happening too. I Chun and I
registered our marriage on one fine day in March, 1997. We had an unforgettable
wedding dinner in M'cca at the end of '99, and the new millennium also heralded
the birth of our first child. Although I eventually stopped visiting those
wonderful people of Chinatown, it was an experience that I am grateful for, and
which I still cherish.
Standing in front of the iconic People’s Park Centre in the
middle of Chinatown, I switch to the Google Maps function of my phone and type
Blk 51 in the search box. Yes, it was still there, but the place was some way
off. Knowing that I needed to reserve some legs, especially for the hardest
portion of the walk (which I expected to be the last leg!), I wisely decided to
defer a nostalgic visit to that particular building, being content to be in the
general vicinity.
Chinatown also reminded me of CNY 2017, when Papa and Mummy
visited S'pore to celebrate the festivities with us. As the Downtown MRT line
had just opened and Chinatown was one of the stations along the line, Mummy and
I rode the train here to soak in the air of festivities. We did some shopping
at the OG store, posed for pictures on the floral decorated bridges and joined
the crowds at the bazaar.
Arriving at Eu Tong Sen Street and Chinatown
Mummy’s visit to Chinatown during CNY 2017
Marina and East Coast
Now, it was time to walk in a Southwesterly direction towards
Marina Bay. Before that, a visit to the toilet at Chinatown MRT Station
provided much needed relief and freshened me up. Cutting through Chinatown, I
took a route through Pagoda Street, a bazaar type thoroughfare lined with
shophouses and coffeeshops trading in every variety of goods and food. Maybe it
was the afternoon hour, but certainly it was an effect of the pandemic, the
place was uncharacteristically deserted. With nothing much to occupy me there,
I soon found myself on Cross Street with a clear line of sight towards Marina
Bay. All the excitement of arriving here and seeing the 'light at the end of
the tunnel' in my journey to the East Coast had somehow made me forget the
tiredness in my legs. But I could feel the fatigue now. In the corner of my
eye, I spotted the Market Street Food Centre, albeit its temporary location,
and opted for a drink and a rest. Like other hawker centres now, the place was
cordoned all round, save for a defined entrance and exit where patrons would
need to scan in their vaccination status. I had a refreshing drink of sugarcane
juice there and a mini pit-stop. Continuing on my journey, it was barely a few
hundred metres before I reached a lawn, the Promontory, which opened the view
up to the bay and a sight for sore eyes- the Marina Bay Sands!
After the compulsory selfie, also to inform I Chun that I had
reached this 'milestone', I lingered for a moment at the railing with a view
that looked out across the bay. It was quite overcast now, but the grey clouds
swirling above only added to the magnificence of the bay area, at the mouth of
the S'pore River. We had spent many good moments here as a family. I enjoyed
the staycations at MBS with I Chun and the kids, where we could be in the
lovely surrounding gardens within minutes, for a jog or just a walk in green
surroundings. That Chinese New Year in 2017 was particularly memorable.
For the first time in many years, Papa and Mummy decided to
come over to Singapore to celebrate CNY, instead of having our open house in
Melaka, as was the unwritten tradition. Lenny and Jean came over too, and
coincidentally, an auntie and uncle from Taiwan (my mom-in-law’s younger sister
and her husband). On New Year’s eve, we had the traditional family gathering
and reunion dinner at our new government-built flat at Keat Hong Pride, where
Lenny and Jean also did us a favour by entertaining my Taiwan relatives in a
drinking session!
On the first day of the New Year, we visited the Singapore riverside
where River Hong Bao, a Chinese cultural funfair of sorts was being held.
Arriving there in the heat of the afternoon, the stalls were mostly not opened
yet, though we did get in some nice family photos with giant CNY icons like the
God of Fortune looming in the background. Lenny won some ice cream on a claw
machine that helped provide some excitement and cool us down a little, and we
had a Western lunch at a cafe there after.
On the itinerary for the third day of CNY was a relaxing
'Duck Tour' in the Marina Barrage area, which was a new experience not just for
my parents, but for Ethan and myself as well! Especially memorable was the
descent of the Duck vehicle (a refurbished old army vehicle) into the water,
almost always accompanied by some splashing and and a little wetting of the
passengers. I was reminded of those lovely times as I rounded MBS and started
on a scenic path that skirted the bay in the direction of Marina South. The
sight of a 'duck' vehicle skimming the water made me smile.
At the Promontory, a refreshing breather and scenic view
across the Marina
A unique view of the surroundings at Marina Bay, and a duck vehicle bringing back good memories
Wonderful memories of time with family during CNY 2017
Now that I was in the Marina area, the path to East Coast
Park was paved and shrouded in lovely surroundings, but that did not make it
any easier! I had walked more than 20 km so far, and the remaining kms felt
clearly longer than the earlier ones. I was forced to take short breathers now
and then, as I cut through Marina South, crossed the Marina Barrage, and walked
back northwards on the other side of the bay. It was now about half past three
in the afternoon. Many cyclists were traversing this route, presumably renting
the bicycles from East Coast Park where the rental shops were- this informed me
that my target destination was fast approaching. A rather large group of
cyclists was approaching and I stepped to the edge of the walking path to avoid
colliding into them. A few seconds after they had passed, I heard the crunch of
a bicycle and looked around, to see a girl and her bicycle on the ground.
Fortunately she wasn't seriously hurt and was soon up and about. Before long, I
came to the point where the path branched eastward, which meant that I was
closing in on my destination. However, I was still some way from the beach and
there was still quite a lot of walking to do. In my mind, I was thinking of how
the walk now was an equal measure of joy and pain! The weariness in my legs
were announcing themselves more often now, and I required another short rest
and toilet stop along the never-ending East Coast service road. The rainclouds
came and went, leaving a smattering of raindrops in their wake. Fortunately, I experienced
a groundswell of motivation at this stage that kept me going, perhaps helped by
the tang of the ocean breeze. The road went up a large and rather steep hump,
but I felt strong when crossing it. Still, it was a huge relief when I sighted
a bicycle rental shop shortly after. I staggered over, not to cheat with a set
of rented wheels, but to get an isotonic fix, and finally, the long overdue ice
cream! I repeated the now well-practiced art of laying my mat on the grass
nearby and enjoyed the sweet rest.
An unexpectedly lovely last leg of my journey
Considering my fatigue and the long distance that I had already covered on foot, the last stretch of park connector leading to the shoreline at East Coast was an unexpectedly lovely walk. I sang as I walked alongside a canal of green water, with conifers lining its banks. I had no idea how it sounded to passersby (and there were hardly any along this lovely stretch), but I had a wonderful time with `Moon River’, `Just the Way you Are’ and `When I Fall in Love’, while enjoying the lush scenery. Still, I muted myself temporarily when passing a family enjoying this hidden gem away from civilization- a father having a conversation with his son while leaning upon the rails, while the mother and daughter were doing likewise at a nearby table. It was early evening now, and I was in a relaxed and sentimental mood, happy to know that my long journey across Singapore was almost over. I had spent the last nine hours or so walking or resting along the way, and had clocked some thirty kilometers in doing so. Now that I was enjoying myself, I was hardly thinking about the destination. Then, the canal that I was following too, reached its destination. Before me was the open sea.
The year was 1987. Mummy accompanied me to Singapore, to
attend Junior College at Temasek Junior College in Bedok. I was thankful that
Mummy had come along, as I would not have known where to start. TJC had been
newly added to the staple of JCs accommodating Asean Scholars and so far, the
only one on the Eastern part of Singapore. In 1987, no arrangement had yet been
made by PSC, who administered the scholarship, for hostel accommodation for
scholars posted to the east, myself included. I remember the image of
ourselves, seated at the waiting area of the bus interchange in Bedok, scouring
the classifieds for rental apartments. The next image was that of Mummy
speaking to a lady, heavy with child, in an empty flat at Blk 12 of Bedok South
Road. Despite the lack of amenities, we ended up renting the flat, and together
with two other Asean scholars in a similar predicament, I spent the first few
weeks of life in Singapore and TJC living in that flat.
My experience as a junior college student however, was quite
wonderful. In school, the lecture-tutorial system was a fresh and enriching
experience for me. The Asean Scholars were a close bunch, but that did not stop
us from making good friends amongst the local students. After school and during
breaks, we would hang out at the hawker centre just opposite, or have
excursions to the nearby beach, at East Coast Park.
Now, that same scenery stretched out before me- sand, sky and
ocean. I realised then that this walk had not just been about a 'feat' of
endurance, of achieving a long walk of thirty km across the island. I had also
somehow been retracing steps, the memories of my experiences in S'pore, both
good and not so good, but all precious. Once again, I had been watching Audrey
play at West Coast Park, and become a child myself, introduced to the wonders
of Haw Par Villa by Papa and Mummy. At Kent Ridge, I had enjoyed the sweet
times at NUS and KEVII Hall all over again with I Chun. I had been amongst long
time colleagues at the Southern Ridges, building friendships while having great
fun. At Chinatown, I saw myself again as a young volunteer, helping to bring
joy to others. Good times spent with family near Singapore River and Marina Bay
were relived. And now, at the East Coast, I was that kid in Junior College
again - watching the waves with the same freshness, the same awe, that I had
felt so many years ago.
Mission accomplished! East Coast to West Coast on foot in a
day
Back on the beach the morning after
Epilogue
I checked into the Snooze Hotel in Marine Parade slightly
before 8 pm that evening, almost right on the dot where my pre-walk planning
was concerned. Before that, I managed to take out a rather good dinner of Thai
chicken cutlet from the Marine Terrace Food Centre, which I found out later was
of some repute. The Auntie at the stall from which I bought the dinner threw in
a tau kwa (soy bean cake with meat in the core) with compliments, and I
remarked that I would return to the stall on that account. Perhaps that was a self-promise that I would
undertake another long walk to the East Coast in future!
The hotel room was quite small but clean. I would have hardly
noticed anyway- once I had a quick bath and lay myself on the fresh white
sheets of the bed, my feet started to experience a gnawing ache and my tired
body yearned for a good, well-deserved rest, one that I would have enjoyed
anywhere.
Feeling refreshed the next morning, I decided to pay a short
visit to the beach before taking the bus home. It wasn’t often that I had a
chance to go to the beach, and after all that effort of coming here, I thought
to myself that the few hundred metres it would take me to walk there would be
quite negligible.
I had risen quite late and the morning sun was high in the
sky when I stepped onto the sand. Tirelessly, the waves were rolling onto the
shore as if to greet me. They had been doing so since time immemorial and would
likely do so for a long time after our relatively brief sojourn here. The long
walk across Singapore had brought back many memories of the life that I had
spent here, both during the walk itself, as well as the process of putting it down
on paper afterwards. With so many experiences and memories, it becomes easy for
one to think that the best is over, that the life that remains to be lived is
just that- whatever remains. Then I had an epiphany. Having relived those
memories had also helped me to complete them. I could now let them go. They
belonged to another time and in a sense, another life- to be treasured for
sure, but not something that would take away from the value of the present, and
the true gift that it is.
Parallel to my walk, I had reached the end of one journey.
Now, it was time to begin another one.
Andrew Wan
December 2021
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