#126: Singapore Diary

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Hello from home base—London air feels so crisp after two weeks of Asian humidity, though there is a Taiwanese you tiao-shaped hole in my heart (and gut). Somehow, it feels good to be overcaffeinated and sat at my desk again, getting my emails in check, writing to you.

I’ve already waxed lyrical here about how nice it can be to switch off that part of my brain to enjoy the fruits of someone else’s Excel sheet. This trip, which Ivan and I made first and foremost for Audrey’s wedding in Singapore, came pretty close to pure go-with-the-flow: there was the wedding and all its related festivities, followed by meeting up with my parents in Taipei, where my mum made most of our dinner reservations (I’ll save the second leg of the trip for next week). This must be how Ivan feels on most of our holidays, I thought—except he’ll never have the singular experience of getting pre-wedding pedicures with the bride-to-be and her loved ones in the giddy lead-up.

So I kept my Singapore stretch free for activities and errands, and in doing so, ended up taking a delicious holiday from holidaying. I cried lots both at the wedding and after, as various photos, gifts, and parting notes were shared. I thought I was going to die of nerves before giving my speech but proceeded to, as they say now, lock in. (I won’t question how or why I managed to enter an oratorical fugue state—and why I couldn’t do so, say, during my driving exam—and will just be grateful that it happened at all.) I broke my own record for napkins used in a single sitting during our first post-flight meal at Maxwell Food Centre, where Singapore’s sweaty embrace welcomed me back for the first time in two decades.

Speaking of …

The satay at Maxwell and a stall selling fishball bak chor mee were my favourite things from that first night, but there was stiff competition and we shared maybe seven trays of food between the four of us.