Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS WRITER.
Ohhhh – Singapore!!
People say it’s sterile, Asia for Dummies…but I love Singapore! A glorious melting pot of so many cultures – Malaysia, China, India, British Colonial, Australian, European, rich investment bankers, and the poorest of the poor.
The immigrant labourers asleep at lunchtime anywhere they can find. The gleaming buildings, the beautiful gardens. The humid, steaming heat with the spectacular thunderstorms rolling in in the afternoons.
It was the first proper holiday we had taken together and we were sooo excited. We got smashed on the flight over and had so much fun. We were met by my brother who lives there and was so happy to see us.
Our hotel was a boutique (yet cheap) retro-plush place called the Scarlett – it looked a bit like a bordello. The room was tiny, but we had a big balcony with big ceiling fans – how colonial we felt, sitting beneath those whirring fans in the heat, smoking in our hotel dressing-gowns.
Across the square was Chinatown and the hawkers’ markets with the best food in the world. The Hainanese Chicken Rice, the Char Sui Pork for three bucks a serve. Yet the street behind us was Club Road with its expensive Spanish, French, Japanese restaurants, sophisticated wine and cigar bars, and clubs. On the corner was a pub. We went there and found karaoke, darts and pool. We were the only Westerners there and we slayed them singing Elton John and Kiki Dee.
We went to Raffles and spent $120 on Singapore Slings …and the $10 on dinner at the hawkers’ markets.
It was amazing. It was there that I read The Happiness Show. We visited my brother and his wife and daughter and 4-day-old baby son.
We went to the Night Zoo where the fish ate our feet.
We had the best time of my life. We have been to many places since and loved them all, and we will travel the world when we can. We have so many incredible experiences ahead of us – but somehow I don’t think anything will ever be quite the same as Singapore!
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WHAT I REMEMBER MOST
What I remember most about that day is the smallness of the room. A tiny table with only three chairs – but there were four of us. My brother elected to stand. Nearly every available empty space on the floor was filled with boxes, folders, files and bags. The lawyer and the barrister were sitting opposite me. My breath was catching and my throat was aching from trying not to cry. All I could think of was those boys, my precious two sons, sitting on their own in another room like this. Two young men in their suits, pale and anxious and wishing to be anywhere but there. I couldn’t see them, I couldn’t talk to them. I couldn’t hug them and tell them I loved them.
What were they thinking? What were they talking about? Did they understand everything? Did they hate me? Would things be better after today?
I remember when I first saw them there, outside the Court room – and I kissed them both and had to walk away – I was crying hysterically. How DARE he, I thought. How DARE he make our sons come to the Family Law Court. He had no conscience, no shame, no empathy, no humanity. How dare he put them through this, just to make ME suffer?