#21 - Mr Roy and Singapore Slings at Raffles

The white tiger is an incredible animal

If you ever spend time in Singapore there are two things you need to do. Firstly, go to the zoo and secondly, got to the Long Bar at the Raffles Hotel; the home of the Singapore Sling.

The day after Dav's birthday, or 'Dav's Boxing Day' as he referred to it, we made our way to Singapore's zoo. As a general rule of thumb, caged animals and funny smells aren't normally my thing so I wasn't overly fussed about this excursion. I'd also been to that part of the island earlier in the week to see the Night Safari. That was the night I was one bite away from what I expect would have been bowel-exploding salmonella poisoning as I cut through a raw piece of chicken tikka. If you listened carefully I swear you could still hear the chicken clucking it was that raw.

One baboon...

Still, we arrived at the zoo and it turned out to be the best tourist attraction so far. Far from caged and smelly, it transpired to be a fascinating, cageless and odourless experience. There were lions, white tigers, elephants, giraffes, meerkats, ostriches - you name it - they had it. But for me it was the baboons which were the most fascinating. Granted, they have that weird bum thing going on which looks like they've got atomic hemorrhoids but their human-like features and mannerisms are intriguing. Another tick in the box for Darwinism without a doubt.

Me, Dav and Garv

We spent most of the day there before heading back for our final evening. This taxi driver was the friendliest driver we'd met so far; unlike the driver who'd taken us to the zoo. He had two speeds - 100mph or stop. One particular cutting-up manoeuvre left me desperately pushing on the imaginary passenger brakes in the footwell of the car. But on the way back we had Mr Roy. He was a chatty chap who told us about an English family whose children he used to drive to school every morning. They moved back to the UK but had kept in touch. Apparently the little girl had even named her cat after him. I loved the idea of a little girl in London calling out for 'Mr Roy' to come in for his din-dins every evening.

The world-famous Raffles Hotel

That evening we made our way to the world famous Raffles Hotel to do what I expect every tourist does; visits the Long Bar for a Singapore Sling. Invented in that hotel sometime around 1915, the Singapore Sling is one of the world's most iconic cocktails. This classy long drink has stood the test of time and of course, unlike many cocktails of today you don't feel like a lecherous predator when you order it. Not a 'Slippery Nipple' or 'Screaming Orgasm' in sight here.

The sling is a classic - and that's reflected in the price. For six cocktails we barely had change from £100.  Still - as we sat in the bar, listened to the live music, took in the history of this famous hotel and reflected on our break, the price become an irrelevance. We knew that the chances are we'd never get the opportunity to be here ever again.

So that was it; number 21 on my list is complete. The definition of a lads' holiday may have changed but given the choice of a week of hangovers in 'Shag-aluf' or the views overlooking Singapore from the Marina Bay Sands; I know which one I'd prefer.

Give me this over a Screaming Orgasm any day

All that was left was for the long journey home; which itself wasn't without its drama. Dav and Hannah at one stage weren't even booked on the flight and I had to endure a man with halitosis sleeping next to me with his mouth wide-open for three hours. As I gagged into my pillow, I finally snapped and went for an elbow jab into his ribs to wake him up. Aggressive yes, but it seemed to do the trick.

Still, we made it back in one piece, with a whole host of new new memories to cherish. And what did I learn? Well, Singaporean taxi drivers are bonkers, westerners sweat in places you didn't think could sweat, for a bloke from the arse-end of Basildon; Garv's done pretty well for himself and to get a hangover in Singapore you need to be earning a six-figure salary.

In homage to the Singapore Sling, I've taken this track from the 80s film Cocktail...fairly sensible advice too in fairness...

#21 - Singapore Stories Part 2 - Garv screams, Segways and Dav turns 30

Universal Studios. Authentically Singaporean

I've never particularly liked theme parks. I think it comes from the time I went green on the pirate ship at Drayton Manor after I'd eaten a tub of KP's white chocolate Choco Dips. Or perhaps the time I got travel sick on the school coach on my way to Alton Towers. Or maybe the time I had to sit down after going on the spinning tea cups in Telford. Either way - a fan of needless adrenalin and endless queuing I am not.

Still, on the island of Sentosa stands Universal Studios; the Hollywood-inspired theme park, boasting attractions themed by all the classics; Jurassic Park, The Mummy, Shrek and my personal favourite, Sesame Street.

Childish humour.

After queuing for an hour to go on what was effectively a Sesame Street ride for 5 year olds (yes, that was my idea) we dined in a 1950s-style diner before making our way towards The Mummy's indoor rollercoaster. Dav and Hannah were somewhat excited, I felt obliged as I'd traveled all that way and Garv, well, he turned out to be adept at looking after other people's stuff whilst they went on rides. Dav and Hannah loved every second, I however had my eyes ferociously shut desperately hoping not to see my burger and fries for a second time.

We eventually convinced Garv to join us on the family-friendly rapids water ride. After queuing for more than an hour in stifling humidity, the gentle splash of the choppy water was a welcome relief to us all...that was until an unexpected log-flume drop towards the very end. As the boat unexpectedly rose out of the water, the doors in front of us opened and over we tipped. Poor Garv however was looking straight down from the very top and let out what can only be described as a string of highly pitched expletives going along the lines of "f*****g hell, s**t, noooooo!!" It left Dav, Hannah and I in stitches - as indeed did it the two Japanese six year olds who were also in our boat. Not sure their parents were as impressed.

Marina Bay Sands at night. Wow.

The following day was Easter Sunday. I dragged the gang to the Botanical Gardens. The highlight for me being the wonderful lakes and orchid gardens; the highlight for Dav was being able to get a picture of Garv and his long-suffering wife, Hannah, next to a sign saying 'Ginger Garden'. Childish. Amusing but childish.

Our view from the top of the MBS

That evening we made our way to what has become the most dominant feature of the Singapore skyline; Marina Bay Sands. This goliath structure was funded by Vegas-cash and is a hugely impressive sight. Three skyscraper towers with a boat-like structure resting along its top. Inside is a very plush casino. Having never been in a casino, Dav wanted to sign of his 20s doing something new. So, in we went. We each placed a $10 (£5) bet on the roulette tables. We lost. We soon concluded that gambling was never likely to be our vice. Dav and I instead decided that a white bread addiction was more likely to do for us than a gambling habit.

Feeling wounded by our rush of blood that cost us £20, we made our way to the top of the Marina Bay Sands. The views from the top are simply sensational. The boats in the Singapore Straits and the lights of the city below are breathtaking. It was one of those 'how did I get here moments?'.

The southerly most point of Continental Asia

The next morning was Dav's 30th. Although not until 7am local time. Not to suggest he's a 'Little Englander' but he'd only recognise Greenwich Mean Time and, here's a fact, he never changes his wrist watch from GMT...he says he 'likes to have a bit of Blighty on his wrist'. Well in true British style it rained that day. And then it rained some more...then it drizzled...then it p****d it down. Still, in true Dunkirk-style, our spirit was not to be dampened. We made our way back to the island of Sentosa, or at least we tried to. The first taxi we flagged down claimed to not know where it was. The second taxi driver, when we said where we wanted to go simply said 'no'. Eventually we found a cab to take us the short 20 minute trip - although I soon wished we hadn't. He clearly wasn't the full ticket, driving bare feet and making an odd 'sniffing' sound every minute or so. It was, quite frankly, weird.

We spent the morning in the aquarium before the birthday boy was given free reign on his choice of lunch. So we finished our Big Mac and chips and headed to the beach. The words 'Brit abroad' spring to mind.

An artist's impression of how Dav may have looked

The beaches at Sentosa were beautiful as we stood at the most southerly point of Continental Asia overlooking the ocean. We didn't stay for long though - Dav had reluctantly been railroaded into riding a Segway for his birthday. Quite frankly, wild horses wouldn't have stopped me witnessing this. I love the guy to bits but nimble and agile aren't words I'd ever associate with Dav - although ironically it would be Hannah who almost went head first into a tree.

Later that night, Garv treated us to a meal at the exclusive Level 33 restaurant. It's also doubles up as a micro-brewery so it was ale all round for the birthday boy before we made our way on to the balcony of the restaurant and marveled at another glorious Singaporean evening.

Only one more Singapore-blog to go, I promise.

In the meantime, this is for Garv...

#21 - Have a lads holiday abroad - I head to the Far East

When I started this list, I was adamant that I'd missed out in my 20s. Amongst many things, I'd been deprived of a proper lads holiday abroad. You know, the sort of holiday where 'what happens in Benidorm, stays in Benidorm' which invariably means cheap cocktails, watered-down lager, sunburn and England football shirts.

Me, Hannah, Garv and Dav splash out
on one of the few beers of our holiday

If you've seen The Inbetweeners movie then you'll know what I mean. I'd had my post-A Level fortnight in Faliraki, but that was in my teens - and it was a holiday where the travel agents needed a signed letter from my mom saying I could travel.

As time's gone by though I've realised that partying late into the night, cocky holiday reps, third-division footballer haircuts and English fry-ups are my idea of a holiday from hell. That coupled with the fact that the 'lads' in question are all receding, nearly thirty-somethings now meant that I had to have a bit of a re-think on this one. 

Fortunately, with my friend Garv moving out to Singapore in January, a new opportunity presented itself. So, with my good friend Dav and his wife, and honorary 'lad' Hannah, we jetted out to see how our pal was getting on his new life in the Far East. The fact that that the trip promised free accommodation had no bearing on our decision to go there at all...honestly.

So we started our long journey to Singapore with a flight from Manchester to Zurich where we had an unenviable six hour turn around time before the second leg which would take us to Singapore. This lengthy wait in Toblerone-city which is also seemingly home to the world's most expensive Burger King, was courtesy of the over-cautious Dav who I think had secretly wanted us to be delayed in Manchester to prove his cautiousness correct. We weren't delayed, so six hours to wait it was.

We finally arrived in Singapore after a 13 hour flight and were greeted by two of the mainstays of Singaporean life; its schizophrenic-like weather conditions and its crazy taxi drivers.

Dav and Hannah from Garv's rooftop

As we stepped out of the airport, the wall of humid heat smacked you in the face like the opening of an oven door. You can't fail to sweat profusely in this sort of humidity; it is not a pretty sight. We made our way to our cab and the first character trait of Singaporean taxi drivers came to the fore; they expect you to know where you're going. We told the driver were we needed to go and he had no idea where it was. This apparently isn't an uncommon quirk as we were to find out later in our holiday. Secondly, they're nuts. As we left the airport, the heavens opened. I'd never quite seen rain like it before. This too is something you get used to in Singapore. At one point we drove through a puddle with such force that the car was completely submerged in water. I was convinced this was how it was going to end. I looked back at Dav and Hannah whose frozen expressions made me think they shared my fear...and the driver, he chuckled like a child riding through a puddle on his push bike. How reassuring.

"A kind heart is a fountain of gladness" - and a cool bear

We finally arrived at Garv's - and as far as views go - his is pretty incredible and certainly beats his last digs which was a wonderful view overlooking picturesque Brixton. He's on the 14th floor of an exclusive condo overlooking the Singapore skyline. The view from the top of his block is simply stunning. He's in the insurance game now. I asked him to explain to me in layman terms what exactly he does...ten minutes later when he'd finished explaining I was still none-the-wiser. Let's assume he's not working for Direct Line and leave it at that.

The first few days were taken up by the obligatory open-top tourist bus and ducking in and out of shopping malls to get a break from the stifling humidity and to let Dav dry-out in the heavenly air conditioning. It's fair to say Dav is a creature of cooler climates, proved by the walk on day three to Fort Canning - and former military base which is now a public park. Oh, and which, when we arrived, was shut. It's about a 25 minute walk from Garv's - or 45 minutes if Dav's in tow. It's fair to say humidity and walking don't mix with a man from Derbyshire whose ideal weather conditions are overcast, cool and with chances of a real ale later on.

Where modern Singapore meets Ye Olde Britain

Still, a quick stop off at the National Singapore Museum cheered him up (see how the definition of a lads holiday changes). The colonial past of this country is fascinating. The British influence here is still ingrained in the fabric of modern-day Singaporean society; from the language to the architecture. Lying beside the modern-day sky scrapers are the British-inspired village cricket pitches and the unmistakably British City Hall buildings. The Indian influence is really strong here too. Presumably shipped here by the British to police the island, Little India is a fascinating district. Garv took us there to dine al fresco. When I say al fresco, what I mean is outside, on plastic chairs, next to the over-spilling wheelie bins. It's the kind of place where you think you've got there a few minutes before the health inspector. But in Singapore, local is the way to eat...a bit like sausages, just try not think about how it's made. Plus, it's the cheapest way to eat. Food here is dirt cheap...unlike alcohol. A pint of beer can cost as much as £10 a pint. Suffice to say this 'lads holiday' was hangover-free!

Poolside at Garv's...scene of the mosquito feast

Weather-wise, barely a day went by without stormy rain. There was plenty of sunshine too - but mostly it was humid heat and rain. There was time to lounge by the pool...which we found out to our cost. A mosquito feast on Dav's legs poolside saw him wake up one morning with an infected bite on his shin which meant he spent most of the rest of the holiday having to wear trousers. The infected puss-filled blister was pretty disgusting. The child in me wanted him to pop it...I could see this being filmed and going viral on the internet, it was that gruesome. But Hannah said that probably wasn't very sensible. As we debated what to do with the patient, Garv helpfully consulted the world of Google to find a diagnosis; "according to the internet, if you're bitten by a mosquito and it fills with puss...it means your knob will drop off". So, chronic knob-rot was Garv's insightful diagnosis. Still, we had a Derbyshire man feeling sorry himself and a mosquito somewhere who now had Type 2 diabetes. To give you an idea as to how grim the blister was, we Skyped our friend Crewe back home. We showed him the wound and his response, in his monotone Manc accent was; "bloody hell, what were you bitten by, snake?".

Still, in fairness to him, he didn't go on about it *coughs*.

The first week was taken up by sightseeing, trips to a Night Safari, Universal Studios and taking in a local football match, which will be the feature of another blog later on.

Next up - Dav is 30, we visit the home of the Singapore sling and we meet Mr Roy the taxi driver.

In honour of the sweaty westerners in Singapore, I'll leave you with this...