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A Two-Wheeled Morning in Singapore
Phil Ingham | 6 March 2010
More Images - Sights & Cycles of Singapore
Big bustling Aisian cities aren't obvious destinations for the holidaying cyclist, but sometimes even the most rabid two-wheeler has to accept an opportunity to relax away from home for reasons other than getting in yet more cycling. So, when your brother in law offers you a once in a lifetime chance to spend a week at his flat in Singapore, with his air-miles taking the sting out of the cost of air-travel too, you'd be mad to turn him down.
And so it was that I found myself half-way round the world in the remarkable island-city-state of Singapore. Thirteen hours after leaving an icy Manchester I stepped out into the early dawn of a Singapore Monday morning, with the temperature nudging thirty degrees centigrade.
My brother in law, Chris, is coming to the end of a three year stretch working in the far east and this was my final opportunity to stay with him in his flat, a couple of miles from the city centre. As I took in the sights of the city, driving into town from the airport, I wondered where, amongst the high-rise businesses, shopping centres and flats, a cyclist might fit in. I then dismissed the thought and resigned myself to the not unattractive prospect of sight-seeing, swimming and the occasional game of tennis.
The stunning Singapore skyline say much about its ambition and wealth
Singapore is a small island of less than 300 square miles, much of it is heavily built up. It's a truly dynamic place, wealthy and run along the lines of a commercial operation, rather than a country. We often hear politicians talk about the United Kingdon PLC, but the analogy of a society run with the efficiency and planning of a globally successful corporation is much more applicable to Singapore.
Although nominally a democracy, Singapore has been ruled by the People's Action Party (PAP) since self-governance was achieved in 1959. This is not the place to dissect the country's political system, but the results of this form of governance have been dramatic, with a remarkably wealthy and cosmopolitan lifestyle enjoyed by much of the population.
The island's infrastructure is impressively modern and efficient. New buildings are springing up everywhere and the downtown commercial districts of the city have a skyline which rivals that of New York of Hong Kong for dramatic impact.
And with a big workforce to move around the island, a completely integrated bus and underground train system provides the mobility to cope with huge rush-hour surges. Heavy taxation on cars limits the number of people who can afford them, but still the road system is choked with traffic, not least the estimated 15,000 taxis on the island.
By night, the city is, if anything, even more impressive
Fascinating, you might think, but what has this got to do with cycling? Well, against this unpromising backdrop, my dutiful brother in law, ever mindful of my needs, had organized a bike ride for me. He has been cycling regularly with a bunch of ex-pats and they had kindly invited me to join them on their next ride - they'd even found a mountain bike for me to ride. Great news, I thought, but what sort of bike ride could the concrete and tarmac of Singapore offer me?
Come the day of the ride - a Saturday - an early call at 5.45am and a quick breakfast of cereal and coffee saw me emerge into the oven-hot darkness of pre-dawn in the city. A five minute roll through the dark saw Chris and I arrive at the pre-ride meeting point, outside a local shopping mall. The theory is that an early start helps to avoid the heat of the day, but with night-time temperatures dipping only three or four degrees from the daytime 30 plus centigrade, it still felt pretty hot to a Brit fresh from a cold Pennine winter.
The hardtail bowled along nicely as we twisted and turned along the dimly lit back streets, stopping twice to collect riders, before we totaled six in number: ride leader, Greg and his fellow Aussie Noel, American Len, Canadian-Scot Doug, brother-in law Chris and myself. Once underway, we soon turned left onto a big four-lane highway, busy even in the still dark of an early Saturday morning.
Chatting with Noel and Len, I offered the observation that the Singapore drivers seemed a less aggressive bunch than those back at home. They both laughed and their opinion was clearly that the locals are more than a match the rest of the world's ill-mannered and aggressive drivers. They suggested I keep an especially close eye on the taxi drivers, many of whom reputedly learn to drive late in life and are short on basic skills.
A pre-dawn start to beat the heat
We rode in a double line of three, well illuminated front and back and, to be honest, after some initial misgivings, I never felt in any real danger, as the traffic worked its way round us with the minimum of fuss. We were soon moving out of the main city, which lies to the South of the island and into a slightly more rural environment with a rail line along one side and small hill to our right.
The hill turned out to be the Bukit Timah nature reserve, home to a troupe of militant monkeys, according to Doug, but also a local beauty spot and the site of one of the island's few mountain bike trails, a purpose built couple of miles created by the local scouts.
To my relief, the pace, though brisk, wasn't too testing and the flow of wind over my body was very welcome after the airlessness of the previous few days. At the roadsides, groups of labourers in corporate polo shirts waited to be collected for the short ride into the city and its numerous building sites. Taxis winged by. Occasionally, and without warning, they would pull up in the middle of the road to disgorge passengers, before roaring away again. But the threat was minimal if you kept your wits about you, much you would on the roads back in the UK.
After perhaps an hour it was completely light and in the grey luminosity of an overcast morning we reached the north-coast town of Kranji, with its rows of industrial units backed by smart but startlingly uniform "HDB" tower blocks which house so many of the island's growing population of almost 5 million people.
To someone used to the litter and graffiti strewn concrete of British inner-cities, Singapore is an eye-opener. Concrete predominates and the hi-rise accommodation looks cramped. But everything is spotless: I only saw one piece of graffiti - in an underpass - during my stay and the streets are almost completely rubbish free; and there are none of the hot weather drain smells which, to me, as so evocative of holidays in southern Europe.
Busy roads, but smooth and pot-hole free
The roads impressed me too. They were busy, as you'd expect with such a high population density. But they were absolutely free of the pot-holes, cracks, gravel, raised manholes, missing grates, discarded rubbish, old shoes, ill-designed pedestrian refuges and sundry other debris and street furniture which add so much to the challenge of navigating the UK's urban roads. Most astonishingly of all, they were almost completely free of broken glass, which is such a feature of my regular commute into Manchester.
One taxi driver I met during my stay joked - I think - that failing to flush a public toilet is a hanging offence on the island. Certainly the sort of petty carelessness, untidiness and littering, which we accept as a part of city life in the UK, has been eradicated, but whether by strict by-laws and their enforcement or by a collective pride in the country I wasn't able to divine.
As I chatted to them about life in Singapore, my cycling companions all seemed very contented with their lots in this oasis of order, which lies just off the southern tip of the Malaysian mainland.
Interestingly, despite everyone speaking English, which is the first language of Singapore, the word is that the local people can be difficult to get to know. One of my companions offered the observation that the native Singaporeans actually found it harder to open up to British, Aussie and American incomers. It was, he said, almost as though having a shared language prevented that commitment to connect that is so necessary when you are struggling to communicate between two languages. It was an illuminating insight into a society where, from what I could gather, ex-pats still tend to gravitate together to socialize.
Equally intriguing was the sense that a couple of my companions, whilst appreciating the ordered, clean and secure life on the island, actually found the surrounding cultures of Indonesia, Malaysia and the Philippines more satisfying, challenging and alive. Singapore is clearly a very safe place to live and visit, but if you fancy a whiff of adrenaline, perhaps it's got its limitations.
Looking across the narrow straits to Malaysia
As we left Kranji, we stopped for a couple of photos under the trees looking out over the narrow straits which separate the island from the mainland of Malaysia. Lines of cyclists passed every couple of minutes. After a week of seeing nothing but antique roadsters and cheap mountain bikes performing their utilitarian duties around the suburbs, it was a surprise to see serious cyclists out in big numbers.
And, as befits a society where shopping is the national pastime, the Singaporean weekend cyclists ride only on the best bikes and wear the latest kit. However, many of the bikes I saw sported tri-bars and triathlon is apparently exploding on the island.
Moving back into the interior of the island, we were rode for several miles along a wide multi-lane dual carriageway, which doubles as a military airfield, as do several of the major roads on this space-starved island. However, the only thing in the air on this lazy Saturday morning was a sea eagle, lazily flapping overhead before drifting out of sight.
We also passed a small nature reserve, to which I returned several days later and encountered other local specialities including tree-climbing crabs, crocodiles and large monitor lizards. Although surrounded by industrial units, served by a major road and a regular bus service and only a mile or two from the nearest built up edges of the main city, the taxi driver who took me from the station to the reserve raised his eyebrows when I stated by intended destination. He enquired if I'd made any arrangements to get back to the station at the end of my visit and warned me in solemn tones that the nature reserve was "very remote!" When the time to leave did come, a row of taxis and a stream of buses suggested he might have been exaggerating a little!
Back to the ride, and before long we were back in the city itself, with towering HDB blocks on all sides. Suddenly we did a sharp right off the road and into a small market area beneath one of these huge concrete structures. A row of small food outlets looked out onto a covered square of plastic tables and chairs. This was, my companions announced, to be the venue for the breakfast stop, a highlight of all early morning rides.
Tucking into a great breakfast of roti prata, 100 Plus and "coffee"
Before I could draw breath - or retrieve my wallet - "coffee" (a Mocca-chocca drink in a glass mug) and a can of "100 Plus", a clear, sweet energy drink, had been plonked in front of me. Seconds later a plate of fresh, warm roti prata - flat, savoury unleavened bread-like pancakes - was doing the rounds, with everyone grabbing a couple and smearing them with a sweet, mild curry sauce.
The prospect of a warm, savoury breakfast, eaten at 30 degrees at 9am might not sound too appetizing. However, I've never eaten a better "café-stop" meal. Washed down by the "coffee", the roti prata really hit the spot and with the banter and gossip flowing, it was a classic half-hour break, which set us all up perfectly for the final few miles.
Riding down the side of one of the big "connector" culverts
The last third of the ride brought a distinct change of flavour. At a big intersection, we did a sharp left onto a short cycle track which took us onto a smooth tarmac path which followed the arrow-straight line of a "connector", one of the many concrete culverts which criss-cross the city and carry away the vast floods of rainwater which fall during the island's frequent bouts of heavy, tropical rain.
After perhaps half and hour of traffic-free riding, we returned to the city's main highways again for the final leg back home. However, there still time for a brief diversion into the rolling, wooded hills just to the North-East of the main city centre, where many of the beautiful and elegant "black and white" houses, relics of the colonial era and now highly sought after residences for the island's super-rich, can be found.
A glimpse of one of the beautiful colonial "black and white" houses
Cruising along the quiet, tree-lined roads, with the immaculate houses glimpsed through lush gardens, and with no high-ride developments in sight, it was an evocative glimpse into what the island must have been like for the British diplomats and civil servants before the second world war. However, numerous Ferraris on the drives were a stark reminder that those days are now long gone.
And so, all too soon, my ride was over. I shook the hands of my follow cyclists and thanked them warmly for taking me on one of the more unusual bike rides of my life. Singapore may not be a great cycling destination, yet cycling had enabled me to see and experience more of the island in a morning than all the many bus, taxi and train rides of my visit combined.
The author, extreme right, poses post-breakfast with his hosts
My thanks go to Greg, Doug, Noel, Len and, of course, my brother in law, Chris, who set the ride up for me.