Arab St and little India.

So, one of the great things that separates out Singapore from other Asian countries I've visited is that it has a massive Indian influence which means one great thing above anything else. Curry.

Now, being a Brit, curry is almost second nature to me, so I've been itching to go and try and out some of the local curry hotspots, and no better place to do this than Little India.
Little India is a little gem of a place where the first Islamic communities rooted themselves in the Raffles era when Singapore was being carved up into the varying districts by the man himself. I'll get more on to Raffles another time as this blog is mostly about curry today.
Now being a SW Londoner and a fellow Blackburner I felt right smack at home amongst the hustle and bustle of the night time markets selling all manner of tat with the distinct aroma of exotic spices wafting through the air. I'd arranged to meet a few guys from work on a Saturday evening to have a few Tigers (the beer of choice here) and to eat my first Singaporean curry. I'd heard that Little India was a bit of a gem so I'd purposely starved myself in the afternoon for the delectation that was to present itself in the evening. I wasn't disappointed. The good thing about Little India, and pretty much most of Singapore in fact is that it is so friendly. You don't get the hassle of street vending touts trying to drag you in off the street which is so common in other curry meccas that I've visited. So, we trudged the streets for about 15 minutes until we saw somewhere that had been recommended to one of us and duly plonked ourselves down.
We ordered the usual amount of food (i.e far too much) and enjoyed it immensely.


After that we lolled down the road to to my new favourite place in Sing - Arab St.

Arab St is another carved out area so whereas the Tamils settled in Little India, the Arabs ended around, erm Arab St ?!? There are a couple of explanations as to why it's actually called Arab St but the one I like is that the area was once owned by an Arab merchant. It's mostly made up of some really striking shuttered shop fronts and eateries of Middle Eastern, Malay and Arabic flavours.

I spent a bit of the morning wandering the streets just browsing the amazing basket shops selling all manner of rattan, cane and straw niknaks. It's got quite a young bohemian feel to the place as well and has quite a few cool boutique type places selling stuff that is far too cool for me to even think about buying or trying to wear.

Incidentally, there are some really cool bars and restaurants to frequent here in the evening, which I duly did on the Saturday evening. I ended up with a couple of folks drinking G&T's and smoking far too much shisha at an open air jazz bar which took me back to my days dossing around as a dive bum in Egypt many years ago.

You can't really beat sitting outside watching the world go buy with a bubbling tower of apple flavoured shisha in one hand and a cool Bombay in the other.

On Sunday, I'd be given the kind offer of the loan of a mountain bike and to cycle the East Coast Park from my condo to Changi and back. So we set off at 5pm (the time it starts to cool down a bit to undertake such an activity) and started off on the 43km round trip. The East Coast park is a great little park on the South East coast with a cycleway/roller-blade path that snakes it's way along the coastal path all the way from Changi to Tanjong Rhu.

I love the East Coast for lots of reasons and it's very popular with all sorts. In particular runners, cyclists, rollerbladers and budding taxi drivers.

The budding taxi drivers are the f*ckwits that love walking aimlessley into the cycling lane as you go zipping past and cause you to crash in a heap by either hitting a tree or careering down the concrete on your arse. Now, so far, I've not actuallay crashed but I know that I'm a statistic waiting to happen. There is an actual defined cycle lane but nobody really pays any attention to it and people just mill about wherever they want. It makes it quite a hazardous ride especially when it's busy. The reason I call them budding taxi drivers is they show the same kind of lane discipline in youth as the adults in the taxis do. The first rule of lane discipline in Singapore is that there is none. My first new cycling purchase to bolt on to my bike frame is going to be an industrial duty bell. That or a lorry airhorn.
The other thing that is noticeably odd out here (for me anyway) is how popular roller-blading is. Now, I love the 80's, probably more than anyone I know in fact, but I remember roller-blading being slightly popular around 1989 and then anyone worth their salt who did actually own a pair figured out that they looked like a bit of a twat after 6 months of doing it and sent them off down to Dr Barnardos to probably get shipped off to some country for other less enabled children. Well - I've figured out where the f*ck Dr B sent them and it's here in Singapore. Anyone and nearly everyone dons a pair of blades here. It's like the land where time stood still here but instead of it being full of Dinosaurs like some Verne-esq setting it's full of leotards and tight fitting bright lycra. The only thing missing from the look is some big spongy Sony headphones and the theme tune to Fame. Granted, some of them are pretty damn good at it, but the majority are like an 8 wheeled pissed up Bambi on ice careering all over the place.
Maybe it's me and I never cottoned on to how popular it still is in places around the world, but the last time I was strolling in Battersea Park the only thing I remember whizzing past me was tooled up kids with staffy terriers on their way to mug someone.

Anyway, route wise, it's a really great ride all the way up to and behind Changi airport and then back again. Thnakfully, at Changi there is a great hawker stall to which to gulp down the customary three cans of 100 plus which is the drink of choice out here for before, after and during any kind of sport activity. That sounds like something out of a commercial I know. Actually, 100 pus is a pretty fine drink. It's a bit like a sugary sweeter fizzy version of Robinsons Barley water. It's probably really bad for you, but it hits the spot when you've sweated out your own body weight in fluids. Riding out past the airport is pretty cool as it gets a lot quieter once you get past the BBQ pits on the coast and the beach becomes less crowded. It becomes realtively safer as well due to the lack of numnuts getting in the way of the bike too. The path follows the entire length of the runway down one side, so you get to see all the planes come swooping in and landing alongside you which is quite cool.
As well as the East Coast path, there are some other good rides around here, but have not ventured on any of them yet. Once the bike arrives from England, I'll certainly look to give some of them a go. It's not as if there are many big hills here but the small mounds that there are here end up being just as hard as anything I've done prior, mostly down to the absolute effort it takes to get up the buggers due to the heat.

Speaking of belongings, should only be another 4 weeks hopefully until my stuff arrives, fingers crossed.
In the meantime, I'll dust off the roller-blades and get out the lycra.
I mean, it's not as if I Wanna Live Forever.... ;).