72 Hours in Singapore

“Some moments are nice, some are nicer, some are worth writing about.” – Charles Bukowski

Day 1: Vibrant Clarke Quay

On a young summer evening in July, we alighted in the city-state of Singapore and checked into a room 14sq. metres (just!) in size, at the Porcelain Hotel, Chinatown.

Tip: clean, cozy rooms suitable for travellers.

We strutted through this cosmopolitan’s centre, a few blocks away from the hotel, to an area popularly known as Clarke Quay.

It was all razzle dazzle! Street performers near restaurants lining the avenue, risk-taking bungee jumpers, scenic ferry cruises, multicuisine riverfront dining, a procession of energetic club-goers, and in all, by the looks of it, a typical Friday night.

All we did was settle into a cafe and watch this extravagant display.

Day 2: Touring Sentosa Island

‘fore noon our backpacks were ready and we steered in the direction of Sentosa, the island-resort that was oh, so full of surprises! We were also almost in time for SG50, the golden jubilee celebration of Singapore’s independence.

We gamboled in the reflection of the afternoon sun to places of our interest - the S.E.A Aquarium displaying more than a hundred varieties of aquatic life, entertaining Luge and Sky rides, the thrilling parajumping arena and a feisty game of Combat-Skirmish in Fort Siloso.

Special mention to the spectacular exhibition of Wings of Time. The dazzling fireworks and the synchronization of lights and sounds sure left us electrified.

Day 3: Idolizing the Arsenal FC, National Stadium

Trouvaille: a lucky find.

We were indeed fortunate in spotting the breakfast eatery, Nanyang Old Coffee House. They served us heaven on a plate (and cup!) – ciabatta with the freshest strawberry jam and marmalade, Kaya buttered toasts, a dose of Mee Siam and the local, traditional Kopi and Teh - coffee and tea

Then, it so happened that we couldn’t pass up a sudden but therapeutic session of street shopping in Bugis. Of course!

What do you get when you say Arsenal? Us!

Our love for this - the greatest - football club has transcended time and space, and which, evidently, took us 3000 odd miles to watch them play.

We bestowed the indoor National Stadium full credibility for being so awesome that evening.

Later, we had a meal at a resto-takeaway point called My Grandma’s Place, a few blocks away from the Singapore River.

Day 4: Strolling in Marina Bay Sands

On our final day in this felicitous city, we did a brunch with friends by visiting them at Singapore’s Tiong Bahru district, an eclectic downtown area.

We soon said our goodbyes and headed off to the most superlative part of town, Bayfront Ave. Marina Bay Sands: whatever we say of this state-of-the-art construction would be too little.

The rooftop added yet another dimension to this fantastic hotel-casino-mall. We ambled as if in a cockaigne, getting a glimpse of the Singapore flyer.

While exploring the vagaries of Singapore, most instances left us numinous; a reverie almost unbreakable till date.

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Paradise Found – Bali, Indonesia

So, here’s our story.

India → Singapore → Ngurah Rai International Airport Denpasar

Eight of us - we were travelling with friends - arrived at the Indonesian archipelago heaving sighs of relief (earlier, there was a drifting volcanic ash cloud from Mt. Ruang that disallowed flights from landing in Bali).

Our foremost visit was, naturally, for coffee; a spice garden producing the most expensive, exotic coffee beans of Kopi Luwak, also called civet coffee. Oh well, we tried it anyway!

Next stop and our home for a few days: Villa D’Carik, Sayan, Ubud

Built in Balinese style architecture, this property almost assumed seventh heaven - a lilt in the air, rooms of wooden walls, bathtubs fit for royalty, and an idyllic infinity pool overlooking the rice fields of Bali.

Peace was present then and there.

Bali, referred to as Vali in some languages, means ‘ceremonies’, and luckily enough, we were in the midst of Galungan Day celebrations - a time of the year when Hindu homes and temples are adorned with their aesthetically decorated, signature penjor.

On Sunday morning, we were chauffeured by our guide to witness the cornucopia of temples that Ubud hosts, the untempered summer sky for cover.

First, Pura Tirta Empul or Holy Spring Water Temple, an hour’s drive away, located in the largely populated town of Gianyar. A sight indelible, this sanctuary, is where the Balinese people immerse and purify themselves in the blessed water.

The temple is divided, by ornamented doorways, into three regions symbolic of hell, Earth and heaven. Here, we were told tales of spiritual beings, religious customs and ancestral rituals, and it fascinated us infinitely.

“In every outthrust headland, in every curving beach, in every grain of sand, there is the story of the Earth.”

Then, Gunung Kawi. A 11th century wonder, carved into solid rock. Amazingly, the construction isn’t a temple but a monument revered by both the Hindus and Buddhists.

This magical place was discovered beside a river, in the valley, beyond the rice terraces.

We had a gastronomic experience with Indonesian food. Our favourite restaurant being Ibu Rai in the heart of Ubud, serving authentic Vietnamese rolls, tempeh skewers on a bed of Nasi Goreng, Cap Cay overflowing with tofu, curry-like Kare a la Bali, Nasi Campung spiced with Sambal Oelek, and of course, Bintang to wash it all down!

We serenaded through the Ubud Art Market and the palace of Puri Saren before ending our evening with a quiet swim, poolside dinner and moon-watching. Nyctophilic, us.

In the early hours of the day 3, we headed towards Indonesia’s most sacred, active volcanic trails i.e. Mt. Batur of Kintamani.

Hiking 7.5 km on a moderately challenging terrain, to watch the honeyed sun ascend, was no easy feat but the breathtaking vistas of the fields yonder, archaic lava engraved into the crags and the loose rocks with black ash, made for a surreal affair.

The summit was most magnificent a spectacle (albeit a bit foggy during the actual sunrise). In the distance, you can see the largest caldera lake, Danau.

A satisfying meal of Mie Goreng later, we spent the late evening promenading the property of Pura Ulun Danu Bratan.

In the gleaming waters of Bedugul was poised a resplendent temple complex, its reflection shimmering. The pale peaks of the mountains in the farness, the trimness of the turf and the tranquil setting added a dash more of beauty to the site.

Sama-sama Ubud and halo Seminyak!

What can be said about the boutique suites in Astana Batubelig Luxury Villas that isn’t, it’s one of the best hotels we’ve ever stayed at?! For one, an exclusive plunge pool all to ourselves, a bath of eminence.

Renting bikes in this beach town was a good idea – you instantly feel one with the land.

The west coast of Bali is truly a magical wonderland.

Tanah Lot, north of Kuta, an exotic rock formation which was highlighted against the backdrop of a pavonine sky and the last rays of the sun with its flickering lining of warmth, is a remedy for all indispositions.

Utopia, indeed.

Bali, apparently, mustered the courage in us to try something new, and so we did - scuba diving!

After a short training session with PADI instructors, we found ourselves on the east coast of the island, at Sanur Reef. Nerves rattling, we finally dove into the turbulent seawater.

But underwater, all was calm; among the gently waving weeds in the sandy seabed, and the picturesque coral, were numberless Xmas tree fish, a shoal of surgeonfish (Hi Dory!), an occasional, tinted starfish, schools of parrotfish, and the trumpet fish merging with vertical polyps.

We biked all the way to the Uluwatu temple, that evening. Perched 70m above the waters of the Indian Ocean, this structure in its habitat makes our list of one of the most exceptional sunsets ever witnessed.

It was the tacenda.

You can’t leave Bali without an actual beach visit! We were fortunate to have the Batu Belig Beach just a few steps away from our villa.

The voice of the whispering breeze, the sine curve of the coastline, the heaving of waves and the immense sky with cloud and sun made for a quintessential postcard of sights and sounds.

We asked each of our friends to describe this destination and what they said was, blissful and impeccably serene yet lively and spirited, colourful and magical, a stimulating, exhilarating experience.

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Over the Hills and Far Away - A Himalayan Trek

May God bless their souls, was the first thought that came to mind when we cancelled our journey to Base Camp Everest. The earthquake of 2015 sure reduced parts of Nepal to shambles but not the spirit of their people (as we learned from our friends and television channels).

Our aching hearts, notwithstanding, we rerouted from the capital city, Delhi, towards the cinematographic state of Himachal Pradesh, in the light of the first antemeridian hours.

We crossed Punjab’s Chandigarh and, on reaching the Kangra valley of Dharmshala, ten hours later, heard a ringing clarity in the air.

With a sweet cumulus cloud cover overhead, we approached the compendious settlement of McLeod Ganj, seat of His Holiness The Dalai Lama, bursting at its seams with tourists, traditional bakeries, dumpling hawkers and Tibetan temples at right angled crossroads.

The start point of our herculean – or so we believed – trek was Dharmkot, set in the midst of lush pine forests, blossoming rhododendrons and elephantine mountainsides.

Before heaving our backpacks, of overnight tents and sleeping bags, we made a pitstop at Sun & Moon café. You needn’t ask – vegetable maggi and cardamom chai it was!

You know that feeling of resfeber?

We hiked through a tangle of vertiginously sloping paths, watched the sun glide effortlessly over the glassy hills, ready to retire, and fortuitously saw a diamond glow in the mist ahead. What became of this was a stunning sight of the snow-clad Mun Peak, the highest point of the lower Dhauladhars.

Pitching our Quechua tents in the pallid light of the evening was yet another adventure although the stark beauty of the area was unequalled.

We fell asleep, under the sky salted with stars, the crescent moon shining. The warm dusk matured into deep darkness.

The next morning, as the sun rose from behind the granite peaks, we awoke to supernatural, beautiful wilderness.

“Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!”

Not before a quick hors d'oeuvres (oh, it was all of eggs, bread and tea!) did our steep climb resume. The untempered heat, crumbly rocks and surges of chilly wind was a challenging terrain that took us 3 hours to complete. Though, incestously thrilling.

The exhaustion on reaching our destination and campsite, Triund Hill, was forgotten; we stood witness to the well-sculpted, jagged, whitewashed Himalayan ranges and its glorious summits soaring into the clouds, particularly the Indrahar Pass.

An otherworldly sight, if we may. 

A slight drizzle ensued followed by petrichor. We lolled, in the swoon of the background, in a cozy teahouse serving rajma/dal chawal, omelettes, hot chocolate and the likes.

An evening of bone-chilling winds brought about a cheerful woodfire whose warmth suffused into our tents for the rest of the night.

As the moon poured its light across the land, we drifted into a dreamless sleep.

At daybreak, we unwillingly made our way back to the base, and a resolve -

"I will come back to you, I swear I will;
And you will know me still.
I shall be only a little taller
Than when I went."

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The Smokies, Tennessee

“The mountains are calling, and I must go.”

One weekend, in the mood for adventure, we loaded the car with a few friends, and drove towards Tennessee. 14 hours and 2000 miles, over a weekend, just to experience the magic of the Great Smoky Mountains!

In what was the first snowfall of the season, we reached a beautiful, secluded cabin, Cosby Creek on Spruce lane, overlooking the icy summits. Imagine this, filtered light through the window, the trees wearing blankets of snow, a view of the slender valley, and us, cozily settled in with the fireplace and hot tea.

As the weather slowed to a few gentle flakes, we decided to explore Gatlinburg and drove to a little resto-pub, Blaine’s Grill, the city’s favourite restaurant.

The sun slowly started disappearing behind the peaks and we spent the rest of our time eating warm funnel cakes, taffies and chocolate raisins, walking through the city lights that beckoned to us like tiny constellations.

As a warning, the roads were closed for the evening due to inclement weather.

The next morning, as the high altitude sun brushed the landscape, we awoke to the smell of homemade eggs and coffee. We set out towards the Smoky Mountain National Park, via Gatlinburg and the Sugarland trail, a thickly forested cover of spruce trees dusted with snow.

We continued along the banks of a creek, breathing in the cold mountain air and taking in the scenic fall foliage that never ceases to amaze.

Closer to the North Carolina border, we chanced upon the famed Tail of the Dragon in Deal’s Gap - vertiginously sloping roads, the stony mountainside, weather bound valleys, and 311 bends in 11 miles!

It was like flying over another world, one we were reluctant to leave.

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