There was once upon a time a fishing village called Temasek that was guarded by a lion from the Kingdom of Singapura which was caged in cement fondue and placed at the mouth of Singapore's only river to scare off pirates and opium runners, agreeably one of the "Three Major Disappointments of the World" with the Little Mermaid in Copenhagen and the Manneken Pis in Brussels such that it was relocated to give way to the more visually resplendent Esplanade Bridge and to borrow greatness from the stunning modern architecture of the Marina Bay Sands.
That was the Merlion which permeated my conversations with Bulan as he gnawed on Buffalo Wings from The Yard and tested the sisig and banana split from Iceberg, the wings overwhelmed by an acerbic aftertaste and the sisig nothing extraordinary although the decadent ice cream was fine which is like what I got in my Business Class upgrade while the rest of PR 509 have to do with a rock-hard frozen mass served in plastic cups, the former further illustrating my first two meals of Week 1 in Singapore which is a traditional breakfast of kaya toast-soft boiled eggs-kopi and a hawker lunch of sweet & sour pork-kangkong in sambal sauce-fish in soy sauce and cold milk tea served in a Tiger Beer mug.
All that before my encounter with the Merlion that got me crossing the Esplanade Bridge and walking under it to Esplanade Park and through Padang Field where cricket is played [which we eat in the Philippines, and probably rugby too which is sniffed in Manila] right in front of the old Supreme Court and City Hall that has been fused as the National Gallery Singapore where I segued into the grounds of St. Andrew's Cathedral just when my camera battery died.
But what is more fortifying than chicken rice with blood still oozing out of the thigh bones on the day where I struggled whether to take a taxi or a Grab to 333 Orchard Road, that strip of high end malls and shops where I met with fellow advocates for responsible agriculture investments in the ASEAN after which I decided the best option is to get out fast via Somerset to the Lavender Station where I killed time gawking at Singapore's culinary legends --- halal Malay food at Jalan Sultan Nasi Padang, Bee Cheng Hiang's bakkwa barbecued meat, and the curry puffs of Old Chang Kee.
The Merlion was upon me so I went walking to the turquoise Malbar Mosque and past the old and forgotten Malay and Muslim cemeteries before deciding to cross Victoria into Arab Street corner North Bridge Road where I dined on murtabak in an Indian restaurant called Zam Zam before crossing back Victoria via Jalan Sultan near where the Nan Wha Chong Fish Head Steamboat Corner do business.
That evening of June 21, I took the Green Line to Changi at 20:00 and slept until the 23:45 boarding call, got nuked and electrocuted and kneaded several hours later in Manila, and was able to get back to the bike trails on a Saturday when the heavens finally decided to cease crying for a while.
That was the Merlion which permeated my conversations with Bulan as he gnawed on Buffalo Wings from The Yard and tested the sisig and banana split from Iceberg, the wings overwhelmed by an acerbic aftertaste and the sisig nothing extraordinary although the decadent ice cream was fine which is like what I got in my Business Class upgrade while the rest of PR 509 have to do with a rock-hard frozen mass served in plastic cups, the former further illustrating my first two meals of Week 1 in Singapore which is a traditional breakfast of kaya toast-soft boiled eggs-kopi and a hawker lunch of sweet & sour pork-kangkong in sambal sauce-fish in soy sauce and cold milk tea served in a Tiger Beer mug.
All that before my encounter with the Merlion that got me crossing the Esplanade Bridge and walking under it to Esplanade Park and through Padang Field where cricket is played [which we eat in the Philippines, and probably rugby too which is sniffed in Manila] right in front of the old Supreme Court and City Hall that has been fused as the National Gallery Singapore where I segued into the grounds of St. Andrew's Cathedral just when my camera battery died.
But what is more fortifying than chicken rice with blood still oozing out of the thigh bones on the day where I struggled whether to take a taxi or a Grab to 333 Orchard Road, that strip of high end malls and shops where I met with fellow advocates for responsible agriculture investments in the ASEAN after which I decided the best option is to get out fast via Somerset to the Lavender Station where I killed time gawking at Singapore's culinary legends --- halal Malay food at Jalan Sultan Nasi Padang, Bee Cheng Hiang's bakkwa barbecued meat, and the curry puffs of Old Chang Kee.
The Merlion was upon me so I went walking to the turquoise Malbar Mosque and past the old and forgotten Malay and Muslim cemeteries before deciding to cross Victoria into Arab Street corner North Bridge Road where I dined on murtabak in an Indian restaurant called Zam Zam before crossing back Victoria via Jalan Sultan near where the Nan Wha Chong Fish Head Steamboat Corner do business.
That evening of June 21, I took the Green Line to Changi at 20:00 and slept until the 23:45 boarding call, got nuked and electrocuted and kneaded several hours later in Manila, and was able to get back to the bike trails on a Saturday when the heavens finally decided to cease crying for a while.
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