Life in Singapore

After Bintan and all the itchy bites we went back to our ‘normal’ life in Singapore; it’s made of work (loads), trips to work (which involves lots of taxis) and shopping.

And here I must admit my disappointment. There are hundreds of shops and shopping centres EVERYWHERE. There are more clothes and shoe shops than coffee shops. But I struggle. There is too much choice. Everything is crazy expensive and I work in Jurong East, which means zero motivation in dressing up.

Many of you know my biggest weakness, shoes. After a few weeks of walking around, running for the bus and swollen feet, I needed to replenish my collection.

All my purchases seem to be wrong, not only are functional more than pretty, but are uncomfortable too! A DISASTER!

Not to talk about tights!

I need tights as tomorrow night I am travelling to Melbourne (massive grin!) where it’s barely spring, couldn’t find anything decent. Shops, shops and more shops with very little interesting in. Cannot say I miss Cornmarket street (that is simply not possible), but I miss knowing where to buy stuff (God bless Westfield, and Liu Jo in Italy, and Nero Giardini and Intimissimi and Calzedonia).

Anyway, shopping aside, we do try and enjoy Singapore and we do what Singaporeans do, for example cycle on the East Coast.

On Thursday last week we went with work people to the famous East Coast, and armed with helmets and water bottles we started cycling towards Marina Bay Sands.

Gorgeous sunny afternoon just before the haze started, pedalling with the breeze of sea (well, port) was truly refreshing and especially enjoyable because it was a school day!

I got very excited and pedalled all the way to Marina Bay Sands shopping centre and was so focused that did not pay attention to the tumbling sound behind me… stayed positive and pushed on.

Went back 1.5h later very proud of myself (20 km done!) and before crushing onto the floor trying not to pass out I had to comfort a scratched husband that faithful to his uncoordinated nature was responsible for the tumbling noise I ignored, in my positive thinking that surely that wasn’t Marco!

So we continued our evening (like adults do) having dinner at the East Coast Fish Hawker Centre having DELICIOUS prawns, stingray and satay.

The injured husband held together with dignity, only to moan once in the familiar Parvis flat.

Days have passed, the injured husband is still very tender and sore. I feel no longer guilty for having neglected the nasty feeling that suggested Marco could have gone off the bike and for having cycled faster than him and in so doing, having offended his male ego.

No ribs are broken. Now we know for sure.

So we are off to opposite sides of the planet for the next 2 weeks.