Well Hello!

I would greet you in Singapore's native language but seeing as everyone speaks English over here I haven't actually learnt any yet. I know I'm a bad western tourist but there are just too many exciting things to see, do and eat to learn a foreign language, though I have no excuse for the 14 hour flight.

The flight was actually fairly bearable. We had a window seat and 106 films to watch, goodness knows how many CDs, computer games and over 80 TV episodes including the latest series of Jam and Jerusalem. This, I found, highly amusing though rather embarrassing when you're giggling away and no-one else is watching it to appreciate the good humour. Instead I got annoyed looks from people trying to sleep - oops. The flight was smooth, the staff friendly and the free bar a temptation that couldn't be refused. The food was rather good for airline food, we got lunch, which was more like dinner, a snack, which was more like lunch, and breakfast, which, again, for me anyway, was more like dinner. The breakfast was the highlight, which we received a couple of hours before landing, as I had a classic Singapore breakfast - chilli seafood noodles. They were actually very tasty and didn't seem at all out of place at (Singapore) breakfast time, though my body was somewhat confused. About halfway through the flight Gemma spotted a thunderstorm far out to sea over the Bay of Bengal which was mightily impressive. Great bluey-white, spiky shards of electricity attacking the ocean waves from 10,000 metres, illuminating the surrounding clouds for what seemed like a hundred miles or more. It must have been going for sometime as it was still causing havoc when it left our sight. Jimmy, the Singaporean Pilot, gave us (English-folk) a laugh as we embarked on our descent for landing with the comment that went something like this:

"We're just approaching Singapore's Changi airport; the local time is 5:35am and the weather good being a cool 27 degrees"

27 degrees! That's the height of our British summer, we thought. Though he wasn't wrong as we later discovered when, throughout the day, the temperature rose to the wrong side of 30.

We landed and collected our luggage after fighting my temptation to jump on the conveyor with the luggage and have a few cycles round. Had I tried this, I think, the stern-looking security lady may have had a few words. We jumped on the SMRT (basically Singapore's version of London's Docklands Light Railway) and headed towards Dhoby Ghaut in Little India where we are staying. We had our first glimpse of the Singapore skyline as the train shot out of the first tunnel, which is something of an eclectic mix of Anglo Asian architecture owing to a strong British, Chinese and Indian cultural influences.

We had a very hot and sweaty pre-rush hour walk up to Mount Emily where our hotel is located. We got a few stares but the people are very friendly and quite willing to offer assistance to what must have looked like red-faced, bewildered westerners. We arrived early and checked our bags in before applying a liberal amount of fly repellent and heading out for a day of sight seeing. We did suffer, a little, from the heat and felt tired from our lack of sleep on the plane but nonetheless managed to explore Little India and it's various temples, mosques, eateries (which smelt amazing) and shops. There was no escaping the scent of Little India - a combination of incense and aromatic spices used in their cuisine. We caught Morning Prayer, in the first temple we visited, and were kindly welcomed in by a local. We de-shoed and cautiously entered to find a wealth of gold, silver and painted interior with statues of gods and religious scenes mimicking the ornate facade of the building. We witnessed, what seemed like, most of the local population enter and sit or kneel to pray then give fruit or flower 'offerings' to the various gods in statue form. There was a courtyard to the rear of the temple with more shrines but also large sinks for the washing and preparation of the fruit. Special people in different attire 'managed' the influx of people to the various statues and daubed paint on their heads giving a clear indication to people on the street that they had been to worship. We were the only white people in the temple and seemed to be the only tourists, which was a little daunting but very humbling. We were mostly ignored by the people busy praying. I felt privileged to be accepted into their house of worship and, whilst being a non-believer, had only admiration and respect for their obvious dedication to their very strong beliefs. Guarding the entrance to the temple were two very tall heavy wooden doors, which were covered with brass studs and bells. The bells all made a different note and worshippers leaving the temple all rang one of their choice as they left.

We left Little India and passed the Sim Lim tower, a shopping centre, and headed on to find a covered market selling all sorts of weird and wonderful edible products from dried fish and prawns to what looked like very questionable mushrooms. In the centre were small stalls selling a variety of different foods that all looked, and smelt, very appetising. We bought a drink and headed to the adjacent grassy area to sit in the dappled shade of palms only to find, before long, that we were being invaded by the biggest ants I've ever seen. They had massive gnashes that rivalled my own! After a swift exit from the army ants we came a across Park View Square, a very tall brown and black building that looked a bit art deco to me. Several hundred photos later, we continued east to Arab Street, visiting another mosque along the way. Small shops overspill onto the street with various wares waiting to be haggled for. There were baskets, vibrantly coloured cloths and even old ladies that looked like they were secretly 178 years old had a world of knowledge and experience contained within them, though these weren't for sale. I made the mistake, or so was my first assumption, of taking a glance at a camera shop window. Within nanoseconds a salesman had his face pressed up against the display cabinet inside the shop and was shouting:

"You like? Come in! You try, you try!"

And so, not wanting to seem rood, we went in and his obviously well rehearsed sales pitch began. I was genuinely interested in buying a polarising filter and had already thought about taking advantage of the exchange rate before I left England. For some strange reason he suggested that I purchase a filter, coincidence, perhaps, but I think he really thought I needed one, as the sun was so bright a polarising filter would cut out a lot of the light preventing burnout improving my pictures. I knew this and, as I've said, wanted one anyway, so I was happy to accommodate his spiel in anticipation of an eventual attractive offer. He was quick to clean my lens and fit the filter before herding me out into the open to get some sample shots. I was impressed, more so than I thought I might be, as he'd fitted a professional (variable) filter, so it was then back inside for the interrogation that he was hoping would lead to a sale. We were given seats and chilled bottled water to ease the transaction. He was actually very pleasant throughout and I didn't feel pressurised. He wanted 100 Singapore dollars for it, an already good price, but one has to haggle. And that's what I did, knocking it down to $80, the equivalent of around £30 for a product that would cost £100 in the UK. I was happy as we were waved goodbye and wished an enjoyable time for the rest of our stay.

We had a power-nap and a much needed shower back at the hotel and then headed out for the famous Raffles Hotel and a Singapore Sling, their unique signature gin-based cocktail. The cocktails are served in the Long Bar, a dimly lit wooden clad affair with smartly dressed waiters that seat you and then take your order for drinks, not that we were going to choose anything but the Sling. The cocktail was really nice, bright red and like nothing I've had before. The table had a wooden box filled with peanuts but they had the shell on so how do you eat them? Fine, so you crack them open, easy enough, gobble the contents and then make a small pile of accumulating shells on the table. Wrong. You break them open, scoff the nuts then throw the shells on the floor. We made quite a noise just sitting down from the crunching of the shells underfoot but apparently this is normal. The floor was covered in them.

We needed some cash once we'd left so popped into a well-to-do shopping centre opposite Raffles to find an ATM. Apart from the distinct lack of English people the centre could quite easily have been in the UK as all the big names were there, there was even a, wait for it, Marks & Spencer! It probably shouldn't have been as exciting as it was; maybe it was the cocktail talking.

Dinner was next on the agenda and we headed back to the restaurant of Hotel Rendezvous, an a la carte buffet we'd spied on the way to Raffles. The food was quite simply delicious. There was quite a varied selection of Singapore dishes including sushi, rice, noodles and curries of many varieties and lots more. I tried almost everything, and most of it I loved. The desserts were equally impressive with chocolate fondue and a myriad of things I wouldn't like to try and name. We were both quite full by the end but thoroughly enjoyed it and had a steady walk back to the hotel. We spent some time on the terrace on the top of our hotel taking pictures and paddling in the shower-pool. In fact, I'm writing these very words whilst laid on a lounger next to the pool while Gemma cools her feet and wanders around the tropical plants and bamboos laced with little lanterns. It's all rather relaxing.

Later we're off for a walk down Bras Bazaar, no it's not some dodgy underwear shop though you'd be forgiven for thinking so, and then to China town to see some Chinese temples and to have a butchers at the night market which is supposed to be good.

I better be off now. I trust you are all enjoying the rain at home (yes, I checked the BBC). I'll leave you with some valuable advice. If you do happen to find yourself in the Radisson in Manchester airport or, indeed, any hotel with a mini bar, don't open it, pull out a miniature bottle of Gordon's Gin worth £5.10 and say "look Gemma, they've got gin!" because they have sensors that charge you automatically even though you put it straight back! Take heed people, take heed!

Hopefully I'll be able to write again soon though I may be in Oz by the time I do. You can leave comments and let me know any news through the messages or via conventional email.