Skeletons

Arriving back in an English December from a sojourn in the tropics, this one was smitten not so much by the change of temperature, but the contrast between tropical greenery and winter bare branches of trees silhouetted against a grey sky.

Form stripped bare.

Skeletal.

The scaffolding that holds up the summer gowns in all their shades of green and reds.

 

The last few days in Singapore were a fast trot around special places revisited and finally lining up for the two or three highlights held in reserve for Mr B’s holiday.  In addition to the Sungei Buloh revisit reported in the last post, we revisited the Gardens by the Bay and the island Pulau Ubin.  Mr B was disappointed not to have seen macaques but we eventually discovered a troupe in a patch of Ubin jungle – some in the trees throwing down something they were harvesting, and the rest on the ground gathering and picnicking – all except one large older male.  He sauntered down the road towards us, skirted Mr B’s bike, looked like he was going to sprint between us but instead made a bee-line for the basket on my bike (wherein lay my bag with phones, wallet and bottled water). 

He was quick.

I was quicker.  And bigger, and louder, and more determined.  It didn’t stop him from clinging to the bag and my hand that was firmly closed on the bag, and try to prise my hand free while I held him and the bag at arm’s length and shook him.

He's a monkey for goodness sake.  Shaking him isn’t going to work – nor is repeating NO like a school teacher corralling errant toddlers.

For a nano-second it crossed my mind that he might bite me, but it apparently never crossed his.  He was all soft hands and feet and fur. Cute really – if he hadn’t been trying to steal my lifelines. Mr B was either stunned motionless or amused, but took a while to react before eventually heading in our direction.  As he approached Mr Monkey dropped off and glared.  

Foiled. 

That must have been embarrassing in front of his troupe.

Macaque encounter ticked off the list, we went in search of otters but the tide was going out and there were none to be seen.

Cable car onto Sentosa, Singapore Flyer, Atlas Bar at Parkview Square and Long Bar at Raffles were the items on the ‘be a tourist’ list.  We managed to time the cable car flights (there is one onto, and another which runs along the backbone of Sentosa), so as to be able to enjoy a sunset over the refineries on the Indonesian coast across the Straits, and a full display of Singapore lights as we rode back to Mount Faber on the mainland.

Parkview Square’s Atlas Bar is even more spectacular on the inside than the building is on the outside, but tables and seats at the bar must be booked well in advance so we got a view of the inside while being told ‘no chance’ (and that was enough really – it is indeed spectacular and there are ample photos on t’internet if you are in the least curious about this art deco gin bar.)  We retreated and headed off to the Raffles Long Bar which is only a short walk from where I was staying. I had made Mr B bring suitable linens to get dressed up for the experience – we needn’t have done so.  There were tourist drinkers in their polo shirts, shorts and sandals.  Again bookings were required but there were a couple of available seats at the bar which we gladly accepted and from there had an up close view of the drink mixology.

Truth of the matter is that I suspect the bar of serving so many hundred of their famous Singapore Slings every night that they probably mix it by the tankful.  There was no measuring or mixing evident in any way, shape or form, and some cursory shaking of a mixture we strongly suspect of having been batched in bulk, decanted into shakers, flashed about a bit then poured over ice and served with pineapple slices and cherries.  That in no way detracts from the taste (apparently) – I declined, spirits not being my thing and settled for a glass of a nice chilled Stellenbosch white, while  Mr B threatened to bankrupt my savings account after his first sip of the famous cocktail.

Yes – they still serve peanuts in the shell and you are still encouraged to drop your peanut shells on the black and white tiled floor.

For our last night in town we tackled a ride round the Singapore Flyer – after dark.

Big Ferris wheel – what else can I say?  It has featured in photos in a lot of posts over the last couple of months.  Time for some views from the wheel itself.  Great views, lots of special effects lighting on the things we could see.  We spent way too much of our time working out where the Singapore F1 Grand Prix circuit went - you can see lots of it from up there.