Singapore, an island state measuring just about 25 x 15kms (16 x 10mls) off the southern tip of peninsular Malaysia, is essentially a world transport hub. It’s the stopping off point for a huge amount of the world’s cargo vessels and, of course, long-haul passenger flights. I think most visitors stay for just a few hours, maybe a day, but few for longer. Being there for over a week made us a little unusual, I think. Perhaps as a consequence, we learned a few interesting snippets from taxi drivers as well as from our very helpful hosts.

Singapore richly deserves its enviable reputation for cleanliness. You’ll never see any graffiti on any walls, nor will you see any litter. As a westerner from a country where our own mindless lowlife toss Ronald McDonald boxes, plastic bottles and empty beer cans out of their car windows complete disregard for their/my environment, the cleanliness is unreal. That 5 million citizens are all capable of behaving this well is simply unbelievable to us – well, it is to me. I’ve just been there and I still can’t believe it. 80% of the locals live densely packed into high-rise tower blocks, too, so blaming our high-rise blocks in inner city areas is far too simplistic.

Singapore also has an enviable reputation for [very] low crime. Perhaps that not surprising given the above. There are always warnings along the lines of low crime doesn’t mean no crime but there is nowhere that we felt threatened or unable to walk. We never saw a single person that looked in any way threatening. According to one taxi driver, carrying a small knife in public will get you in serious trouble; a large knife will get you the death penalty. Vandalism – keying cars, for example – is dealt with severely, even for American diplomats unruly offspring. Maybe such laws, that some would call Draconian, have more to do with good behaviour than living conditions. Maybe – here’s a radical thought – Singapore still educates and instils such values in its citizens.

The climate was interesting. Being just a spit north of the equator, 1.3°N, Singapore’s maximum and minimum temperatures really don’t vary very much. 23°C is about the lowest it falls to, even overnight, and the mid 30’s is about the highest. Strewth, our summers hardly ever reach such heights. It’s quite wet and humid, though. We were there at the tail end of the north-east monsoon season and we frequently had a downpour/storm in the late afternoon. I think of myself as hating rain but, oddly, in Singapore I didn’t mind it. Perhaps that’s because the rain is warm and you don’t get ice-cold drips running down your neck. Even when it rains/thrashes, you’re still comfortable in shorts and a lightweight short-sleeved shirt with an umbrella for protection. The storms can be heavy enough to be spectacular and thus entertaining, too. Maybe I’d tire of it after a longer period but on this trip, it wasn’t a problem.

Above all, Singapore is unquestionably the most expensive place I’ve ever visited. Our first jaw-dropping shock was cars, which cost at twice their UK prices courtesy of enormous import taxes, the real killer is the COE [Certificate Of Entitlement], your permission to own a car, which is purchased on the open market. At S$75K-S$80K ish (£40K – £45K) for 10 years. After 10 years, go buy another COE. That basically doubles the price of your already doubled small family car. Buying a car in Singapore is a bit like using the doubling cube in a game of backgammon. A workaday 1.4 VW Golf will set you back over S$180K (£90K/$140K). Ouch! Fortunately, the public transport system is both reliable and very reasonably priced. Oh, and there’s no eating or drinking allowed on MRT trains or in MRT stations. I know now but I didn’t know then and got ticked off for swigging from my water bottle. Good job I’m not in Changi prison.

It will come as little surprise that Francine and I like to share a bottle of wine a day … or more. Now this really is unfair; even a modest bottle of wine in a supermarket lightens your wallet by S$25 (~£14/$22). Realistically, though, you’re more likely to be into S$30 a bottle. Even 6-packs of 330ml beers cost S$15-S$20, and at 25°C they don’t last long, either. It’s enough to make you tea-total.

So, basically we enjoyed Singapore as a place to visit, especially with a dragonfly fetish, but, living a western lifestyle, I couldn’t afford to live there. The pension would run out too quickly. Oh, and I don’t believe Singaporeans really get pensions or much in the way of social help, either.

In our week and a half in Singapore, we visited only about half the places on our Bukit List. Even so, our final Odonata species count is 40, nine of which are down to the guidance of our very friendly dragonfly-photographing soul mate, Anthony. Some people wondered what we’d do in Singapore for that long but we may have to go back to finish – when we can face the 13-hour flights there and back again. 😉

I’m tempted to say that this is our last full day in Singapore but, since our flight departs for Heathrow tomorrow at midnight, I suppose that isn’t really true. Nonetheless, spending several hours waiting at an airport, even the relatively plush Changi airport, won’t feel like part of a holiday day so we’ll go with my temptation.

After soaking my left index finger to remove bandage #1 (the blood had soaked into the padding, dried and set like glue) without causing blood to erupt again, we applied bandage #2 and set off under some relatively rare blue skies to investigate more of the downtown part of Singapore. One target was the Gardens by the Bay at Marina Bay South, where dragonflies were a possibility, so I gritted my teeth and took my camera along.

We were dropped in the general vicinity by our genial hosts to make our way there on foot, largely to see one of Singapore’s more interestingly architected bridges. The bridge, curved and constructed as a helix, overlooks Merlion Park together with, unfortunately, the blot on the Singapore landscape that is the Formula 1 grandstand. The latter is a little difficult for eyeballs to ignore but can be cut out for purposes of photography.

Singapore is clearly rather taken by curved structures, even things that shouldn’t be curved get the curve treatment. Our next challenge, in order to get to our intended destination, was to find our way through, over or under the spectacular Marina Bay Sands hotel/casino/shopping complex atop which sits a bent boat. We’ve mentioned this before but in rather greyer weather. Now there was some blue sky which makes it look better but I still don’t get the concept of a bent boat. Down near the harbour, they even have some very expensive curved skyscrapers. Very inventive!

We weren’t doing well with our challenge. There were two major roads to cross, one to get to the bendy boat hotel which we managed with the help of a pedestrian underpass, and another to get to the Gardens by the Bay. We could see another bridge, straight this time, quite high up but couldn’t find a way up onto it. I asked a waiter in a bendy boat restaurant for directions. The bridge turned out to be rather auspiciously called Dragonfly Bridge. Nice! Much of the south coast of Singapore island is reclaimed land. Dragonfly Bridge eventually deposited us onto a good chunk of the reclaimed land where the Gardens by the Bay have been built and where we found our first species of the day, a very large species called Dragonfly Riders. We did find eight real species around that boardwalk that you can see, though.

We were eager to get a closer look at the gardens’ most interesting architectural feature, the so-called Supertrees. Once up close, we saw that they are effectively massive trellises, the trellis work being constructed of interlocked tubing around a central concrete core. Being new, the planting at the base of the trellis work is young but I suspect they’ll look very impressive in a few years time after some growth – quite a lot of growth. As well as the elevated walkway weaving between the trees, there’s a restaurant in the top of one of them.

In need of some refreshment, we had one must-do touristy thing remaining without which no visit to Singapore would be complete. The reputation of the Long Bar at the grandiose Raffles Hotel precedes itself, together with its famed Singapore Slings. My injured arm could do with a sling, after all. 😉 We hopped on an MRT and went to play serious tourist in search of the two most expensive drinks we’d ever have bought.

It was Saturday. There was a queue at the door waiting to get in. Movement was less than obvious. I was on the point of muttering, “fudge this, let’s go” when a suited gentlemen approached and ushered us to a table. The tables are all equipped with roasted peanuts in the shells. The shells are traditionally simply discarded on the tiled floor. The Long Bar is about the only place in Singapore that you can, indeed are expected to, drop litter without being arrested. There are lines of small fans in the ceiling oscillating back and forth very slowly – so slowly that they are completely pointless but they do add to the still steamy atmosphere. “Bring back the original punkawallas”, I say.

A menu arrived. We’d been told not to look at the prices or the bill, just pay it. Ignoring this sound advice, I now discovered the purpose of the discarded peanut shells on the floor: they are to soften your landing on the hard tiles when you faint. At least you can choose your preferred gin so, once I’d picked myself back up out of the peanut debris and brushed myself off, I ordered two Bombay Sapphire Singapore Slings at S$28 (~£16 or $25) each. They eventually arrived in glasses with slightly warm stems/bottoms, though the drinks seemed cool enough. Turnover is so brisk that the glasses have always only just been washed up, I imagine. We sipped luxuriously and enjoyed our moment of tourist frivolity. Expecting to receive a bill for S$56, I was a little taken aback to be faced with a total of S$65-ish. 10% service charge (for which, incidentally, I’d expect a cold glass) and 7% GST (their lower version of VAT) had been added to the menu price. I picked myself up out of the peanut debris again.

Pleasantly lubricated on the inside and with a much lighter wallet, we made our way home via Arab Street and yet another temple in the form of a Muslim mosque. Francine went inside; I declined and got lubricated on the outside by the tropical thunderstorm which broke. The only waterproof that makes sense in the Singaporean climate is an umbrella, which we had; anything more and you’d steam like a jam sponge.

Time to go and pack for tomorrow’s journey. 🙁

Our hosts have been wonderful. Like myself, David is a keen cook and we’ve been well fed and watered on a regular basis. Wanting to repay their kindness and give them a bit of a night off, being in the correct vicinity for some of the more exotic ingredients, I volunteered to make a Thai-style green curry from scratch. These guys grow fresh lemongrass in pots around their house, for Darwin’s sake. Magic! So, last night it was my turn in the steamy kitchen.

Having harvested a few stalks of extremely aromatic, fresh lemongrass, I began chopping it up to make the Thai green chilli paste. Also like me, David maintains a very sharp set of knives with which, on the second or third chop, Mr. Clutz then managed to harvest the end of his left index finger. Part of my fingernail disappeared along with my fingertip and blood began flowing. Our first attempt to stem the flow failed but the second was more successful; serious Singaporean surgery was avoided. Not finding any bits of Franco lurking in the ingredients, I sat down with a bandaged finger, a gin and tonic or two and assumed the role of executive chef while David came out of retirement to reprise his kitchen role, ably assisted by Francine and their Filipino maid. I don’t think the Filipino maid thought much to our westernized version of a Thai curry – the addition of chicken stock caused a raised eyebrow or two – but she helped very willingly. So much for giving David an evening off.

Anyway, with my finger bandaged and still throbbing, today I necessarily left my camera at home, left the snapping to Francine and we went with David to see some sights of Singapore’s Chinatown. The week before we originally arrived in Singapore was Chinese/Lunar New Year. We’ve just entered the year of the snake and the first sight we saw was this brilliant effigy, made mostly of lanterns and running the length of the street. How terrific is that? How did Francine not get flattened standing in the middle of the road snapping it? Of course, like many Chinatowns, this one is full of the expected tourist trap trinkets that you wonder why you bought when you get back home.

13 ancient temples in Cambodia not enough to sate ones cultural curiosity? Today two more temples were on our agenda in Chinatown, though these are active temples rather than ancient. First up was the Buddha Tooth Relic Temple and Museum. No, really, this place supposedly has one of Buddha’s teeth, or a bit of one, at least. [Excuse: I was distracted by my throbbing finger and only half concentrating.] The place was staggeringly opulent, though, with more sponsored Buddha effigies than you could waggle an injured finger at. Every inch of every inside wall is a repeat of the picture on the right.

The atmosphere inside was enhanced when some monks appeared and began chanting. I have to say that I have a very low opinion of pretty much all religion, siding firmly with Professor Richard Dawkins on the laughability of any concept involving one or more “omnipotent beings”. I make an exception, however, when it comes to Buddhism. The story might still strain belief but, apart from the fact that Buddha apparently classed himself as a teacher rather than a deity, Buddhism is the only religion I’ve personally come across that seems to be completely non-violent and moderate, preaching “the middle way”. In Cambodia we learned that their religious history oscillated between Buddhism and Hinduism. When the Hindus were top dogs, what did they do to the Buddhist temples? Went round destroying or removing the Buddhist icons. What did Buddhists do to Hindu temples? Nothing. Enough said.

So, on to the opposition’s Hindu temple, Sri Mariamman next. As is common practice in this part of the world, we had to remove our shoes to go inside. Francine paid S$3 for a license to use her camera. I nursed my finger. This temple made a visual impact on me but not in the same (pleasant) way as did the Buddhist temple. Whereas the Buddhist temple had effigies of Buddha by the thousands, the Hindus appear to have individual Gods by the thousands and they cover all the roofs. The theory is, we were told, that Hindus should be able to see whichever God they wanted to pray to from pretty much anywhere. The Gods are all very colourful, in a gaudy sort of way, and I couldn’t escape the impression that I’d walked into a fairground, all we needed was an organ, some carousels and a stick of candyfloss. In their favour, however, the powers that be here had a refectory table which seemed to be handing out curries. Nice! (No, we didn’t.)

Before we made plans to visit Singapore and Cambodia, I established contact with a Singaporean, Anthony, who maintains an excellent photographic blog dedicated to the Dragonflies and Damselflies of Singapore. I wanted to check my suspicion that Singapore, having a climate that rarely drops below about ~23°C/74°F, would have active Odonata populations all year round. As well as confirming my suspicions, Anthony went an extra mile and offered to meet us to show us what he considered to be the best local Odo site.

Once back from our Cambodian long weekend and with a whole week of Singapore stretching out before us, I had contacted Anthony and we’d arranged to meet today at 9:30AM near the Lornie Trail in Singapore’s Central Catchment Nature Reserve.

Now, Singapore has a pretty good taxi service and we found them to be one of the few reasonably priced items in Singapore. There is a very clever automated taxi booking service. For a S$3 bonus, from a landline you call a number, the system knows your address from the phone number used and, usually “within 5-7 minutes”, a taxi arrives at your door. That’s the theory and we’d already tried it successfully a couple of times. I’m always a little wary of the phrase often uttered by locals, “just jump in a cab/taxi”, and this morning maintained my scepticism. Two attempts to book a taxi failed with a message along the lines of, “your request cannot be satisfied at this time”. Rush hour is one of the things that foil any attempts to “just hop in a taxi” and the other is rain – try getting a cab in San Francisco when it’s raining and you’ll see what I mean. With time now getting tight, our genial host, David, very kindly rescued us by braving the rush hour traffic and driving us to our appointed meeting spot.

Shortly after we arrived, displaying a good deal of faith in a couple of strangers from the other side of the planet actually turning up, so did Anthony. He led us down a rough track and we passed one end of the MacRitchie Reservoir, eventually arriving at a footpath running beside the golf course of the Singapore Island Country Club. [Sounds very expensive … and probably is.] At our previous locations, we’d been seeing what were turning out to be “the usual suspects”. Here we were treated to a new set of unfamiliar names including:

• Lestes praemorsus (Crenulated Spreadwing)
• Diplacodes nebulosa (Black-tipped Percher)
• Ryothemis triangularis (Sapphire Flutterer)
• Indothemis limbata (Restless Demon)

We clicked away with gay abandon, hardly knowing where to look next. The Sapphire Flutterer (above) is one of my personal favourites and the last, the Restless Demon (left), listed in Singapore’s red book as critically endangered, was a particularly lucky find, particularly at rest, even though the pose wasn’t the greatest.

Already chuffed to bits, Anthony then offered to take us along a forest track, the Sime Track. Singapore has a collection of forest species of Odo, a class of critter I think is unheard of in European climes – our forests are probably too cool for self-respecting insects. We negotiated our way past a couple of golf buggies that seemed to be attempting to go off piste or into the reservoir, I couldn’t decide which, and soon made it to a shady board walk. Along here we found a whole new cast of characters:

• Orchithemis pulcherrima (Variable Sentinel)
• Podolestes orientalis (Blue-spotted Flatwing)
• Vestalis amethystina (Common Flashwing)
• Nesoxenia lineata (Striped Grenadier)
• Tyriobapta torrida (Treehugger)

With uncharacteristic foresight, I had both packed and mounted my flashgun, otherwise life would have become decidedly frustrating, given the lack of light under the tree canopy. Anthony told us that the Common Flashwing (above) really needed flash to show off it’s wings to good effect. The curiously named last of those, the Treehugger (left),  “does exactly what it says on the can”, clinging low down to various bits of tree.

We’d burned up the morning adding to our collection and Anthony had to leave. Rather than back-tracking, we opted to continue our way around the trail loop and make our return via a different route. There was another dragonfly that we knew to be around somewhere ahead of us but we were hot, steamy and tired, and couldn’t face searching, potentially in the wrong place. We eventually arrived at a Ranger Station where we could refill our water bottles.

Somewhat refreshed, Francine decided it was a good time for a snack and went to take a cereal bar out of her backpack. From out of nowhere, she was instantly descended upon by a troop of monkeys. As well as researching the Odos, before leaving for Singapore I’d read National Parks advice on how to react when confronted by monkeys. It read:

do not look them in the eye, do not bare your teeth, walk 1.5 metres away, do not use flash photography

Eye-contact and bared teeth are seen by monkeys as threatening or challenging behaviour – fair enough. The walking 1.5 metres away sounds reasonable but just seemed to make the monkeys follow the food source. Cameras now packed away after a hard morning’s work, photography of any description, flash or otherwise, was not a danger. The monkeys were sizeable beasts, the males being similar in size to a medium-large dog and with teeth to match. Food unopened and replaced, carefully staring at the ground without so much as a grimace, we eventually left them behind.

A few kilometres later as we approached the road and civilization once again, I spotted taxis frequently driving by. We arrived at the road and I waved at one taxi showing a green light; it continued on its way. I waved at another with a green light which also studiously ignored me and continued on its way. Walking in what we thought was the direction we wanted to go, this pattern was repeated at least twice more. What does one have to do here to flag down a taxi? The aforementioned clever automated taxi booking system does have an even cleverer smart phone mobile app which, I presume, knows your location from the built-in GPS devices but I didn’t fancy using that from a UK mobile number – not that I had it installed, of course.

Eventually we wandered as far as a shopping mall which appeared to have a pull in area and signalling system for taxis. Two folks were before us and, with some relief, we joined the queue. After a minute or two a taxi pulled in and picked up those in front of us. I pressed a green button which I assumed was to signal that someone was waiting for taxi. Shortly a taxi drove in and dropped someone off. After they’d paid the driver I approached and told him where we wanted to go. He pulled a face and considered this for a while before, grudgingly it felt, agreeing to take us. He was a laconic fellow but we got back home with a little relief.

Just hop in a taxi!

Left to my own devices, without Anthony’s guidance, I’d most likely have stuck to the boardwalk of Lornie Trail and missed most of these exciting new species. We owe Anthony a very big vote of thanks. It’s great that the Internet can bring together people with shared interests from half way around the world.

The first place on our Bukit List [see Forcing the TLA for an explanation] that we visited on arrival in Singapore was the renowned Singapore Botanic Gardens, or SBG for short. That being our first encounter with Asian dragonflies, we looked at little else. However, as their name implies, the gardens are actually there for plants. The original gardens were established by Sir Stamford Raffles to see what could be grown economically. The current gardens were established as a leisure garden and ornamental park and they include a 3-hectare orchid garden, I believe one of the largest collections of orchids in the world, together with a ginger garden. Being a fan of orchids, Francine was keen to return to have a look.

It is an uncomfortable truth around the world that the worst time to try and get lunch is lunch time; everyone else is also trying to get lunch. This was true on our first visit when we attempted to eat at the SBG eatery around 1:00 PM. We had to leave to find somewhere else. Thus educated, on this second visit Francine and I cunningly turned up at about 11:30 AM and, finding a pleasantly clear section of tables, we sat down to study the menu. Almost immediately, a pair of mums each toting pairs of rugrats occupied the table to my left. Shortly thereafter, more arrived on the table to our right. We were surrounded, though we did have a table. Other representatives of Satan’s Little Disciples were zooming about on scooters. What we needed was a garden monitor to keep order. Where’s the suggestions box?

Francine and I shared a salad and one of Singapore’s more well-known meals, chilli crab, this time in the unexpected form of chilli crab toast. I use the term toast loosely. I wasn’t expecting the sauce, either, which was contributing to the slight sogginess of the toast, but it tasted reasonable.

Francine wasn’t the only fan in the SBG today. Other fans were being wielded by what I think was a Tai Chi class. The lady dressed in yellow appeared to be in charge so I guessed she was the black belt. In an orchestrated fashion, the fans were being snapped open and shut with deft flicks of the wrist, sounding as though they could remove your head almost as efficiently as a Samurai sword. We edged past carefully to avoid injury.

Entrance to the SBG is free but there is a fee to get into the Orchid Garden. I remained outside to look for more dragonflies, including a visit to a pond we had not seen on our first time around, while Francine went in to click away at orchids. We arranged to regroup near the Ben & Jerry’s ice cream stand, not that we had an ulterior motive. Here’s some of her results.

The main gardens are also planted with a lot of Heliconias and I’m particularly keen on this treatment that Francine managed with one of those – nice arty soft focus framing. 😉

After a spin around all three ponds, I managed to put our SBG dragonfly species count up to 16, being about half of what can supposedly be seen there. Still not sure if all species occur all year round or whether species have seasons but I was happy enough with our tally.

As I was making my way back to Ben & Jerry’s, ruing the fact that Francine had all our Sing Dollars, I was confronted by a 1.3m/4ft long Monitor Lizard, calmly wandering straight towards me along my path. Discretion being the better part of valour, I made way; it went into the hedgerow between myself and the lake. We’d seen a Monitor at Changi but this was a much better specimen with no visible damage and much more cooperative, to boot. As I was leaning on my monopod admiring this magnificent creature just a few feet away, a couple of other Brits wandered up to me and enquired what I was looking at. Thinking the action rather superfluous given its size, I pointed. They jumped.

Our hosts had never heard of Monitors in the Botanic Gardens. Lucky me.

In 2006 Francine and I broke the winter monotony with a most enjoyable cultural trip to Thailand. Towards the end of it we visited Kanchanaburi, notorious site of The Bridge on the River Kwai, part of the Thailand-Burma railway, the so-called Death Railway, constructed by allied prisoners of war under the brutal conditions imposed by their Japanese captors. Seeing the sites of a railway that cost so many needlessly lost lives, and the pristine memorial graveyards of those who didn’t survive was, of course, a deeply emotional experience. Taking photographs when you can’t see through the viewfinder for tears is very difficult.

Today we were off, I suspected, to repeat the emotional experience at the Singaporean east coast village of Changi. Now, Changi is known for being the home of Singapore’s international, spotless, well decorated and delightfully modern airport. During WW II, Changi was known for the prisoner of war camp following the Japanese invasion of Singapore. The British defenders expected a Japanese attack only from the sea thinking that the forests of Malaya would stop any land-based attack from the north. Wrong! I recall a similar error featuring the French, the Maginot Line, the  (supposedly impenetrable) Ardennes forest and Hitler. When will we ever learn?

Changi still has a prison today but now for Singapore’s criminals. Given the penalties meted out in Singapore for offences, you probably don’t want to be in this one, either. Some years ago, an American diplomat’s youth was beaten for “keying” someone’s car, despite American diplomatic protestations that, “you can’t do that”. “Good for Singapore”, say I – no wonder crime is very low here.

Changi Village is now a seaside resort for Singaporeans wanting a weekend break. It is also a boat quay where so-called bumboats take passengers over to the nearby island of Pulau Ubin. [It’s on our Bukit List 🙂 ] We began with a wander along the shore which netted us our first sight of a 1m/3ft Monitor Lizard lurking in some shady waterside tree roots, though this poor individual had a mangled tail so a head shot had to suffice.

There’s was something for the botanists here, too, with a definite white and yellow theme emerging. Along the shore were several Frangipani trees with their intriguingly propeller-shaped petals – we’d seen these in Thailand, also – and a flowering Ginger plant, which was new to us.

It was time to get the tissues out when we dropped in to the Changi Chapel and Museum. Here there were old photographs and story boards together with a series of five religious murals painted by one of the prisoners of war to offer comfort to the inmates. Most emotional for me, however, was a reproduction of the simple wooden chapels constructed by the prisoners, the altar of which was surrounded by scribbled eulogizing notes of relatives of many of those interned. [Photography not allowed, even if you can see through your tears, so you’ll have to be content with the official shots. They’d be better anyway – Mr Emotional couldn’t see!]

After an excellent spot of lunch with our genial host, David, he drove us to see the so-called Monster Gun at the old Johor Battery. These monster guns (there were three) fired 15in/38cm shells but, as intimated above, were pointing out to sea away from the Japanese who sneakily attacked from behind down the Malay peninsular through all that impenetrable jungle. Fat lot of good they were, then! (One only partially accurate replica gun is behind the green building on the right.)

Beneath the battery underground was a labyrinth of tunnels connecting to the ammunition bunker. The tunnels are now mapped on the surface by the low-level concrete troughs you can see in the photo above. Delight of delights, these troughs get frequently soaked by Singapore’s regular downpours and their low points accumulate water. Guess who had taken up residence. We spent a happy half hour or so, baking under the unusually clear sky, stalking six species of Odos. The most interesting and photographically cooperative was this curiously shaped Trumpet Tail (Acisoma panorpoides).

I’ve already mentioned that the Singaporeans are wedded to TLAs – Three Letter Acronyms. The first sign of this obsession that a visitor might typically get is when they have arrived at Changi airport and they get whisked downtown on the PIE (Pan Island Expressway) or the ECP (East Coast Parkway). So far, so logical.

Venturing a little further, a visitor might bump into the CTE and enquire what that stands for. The response would be “Central Expressway”. Whilst CE might seem more logical, that doesn’t meet the TLA criteria so a third letter has to be shoe-horned in, presumably as in CenTral Expressway. The logic continues to crumble as you meet the AYE (AYer Rajah Expressway – why not ARE?) and the BKE (BuKit Timah Expressway – not BTE?). Some have too many letters: the Kallang Paya Lebar Expressway has to get cut short into KPE. Just shrug and accept it.

Before setting sail for SE Asia, we managed to secure a copy of Dragonflies of Our Parks and Gardens, published by the Singapore National Parks Board. Using that, I came up with a hit list of places I’d like to go dragon hunting. Since a couple of those targets go by the names Bukit Timah and Bukit Batok, it inevitably became my Bukit List. 😀 My book has a handy-dandy list of six of the parks sporting the highest species counts so, with limited time, it seemed most sensible to start with some of those. Having already hit the Singapore Botanic Gardens (SBG – 32 species listed), today, on our first full day back in Singapore after a fascinating Cambodian adventure, we decided to head for BiShan Park (a little more TLA-forcing required to BSP – 33 species listed). Our helpful hosts dropped us off and left us to hunt.

There’s a lot or work being done in Singapore and, although sometimes the sounds of construction can get a little wearying, for a jaded Brit it’s nice to see a buoyant economy investing and making advances. Whilst our initial impression at BSP went along the lines of, “what dragonflies?”, it impressed greatly in the way it has been transformed. In addition to two main bodies of water, BSP had what can only be described as an unsightly, featureless concrete canal running along the length of its north-eastern edge. The canal was clearly constructed also to act as a storm drain. Not the sort of feature to attract wildlife or offer a relaxing stroll. Outside the park, it continues in this original fashion.

Within the park, in a complete masterstroke, this unsightly concrete monstrosity has been transformed into an attractive meandering stream with grassy banks, islets and waterside plants. Though the watercourse meanders, the banks are still architected to cope with a 3m/10ft rise in water level and it still acts as a protective storm drain. Now, however, the wildlife likes and is beginning to colonize it. After our initial disappointment, we spotted not only some early dragonfly colonizers but also, a purple heron (Ardea purpurea), an as yet unidentified kingfisher and egrets. How brilliant is that?

The much revered lotus pond proved particularly disappointing but we did eventually find eight species of dragonfly, most of which seemed to prefer the larger pond, falling way short of the supposed 33 residents. (I think this character is an immature Crimson Dropwing.) However, though Singapore has dragonflies all year round, I have been unable to find out whether individual species have seasons within the year. Possible, I suppose.

We walked our way out to the nearest MRT station but, since there’d be either a 30-minute walk at the other end or a short taxi ride, we bottled out, simplified matters, and went all the way in a taxi anyway. Though many things in Singapore are ferociously expensive, taxis are quite reasonable by our standards. With weary feet and water running low, it was well worth the S$15/£14 (ish). We can hardly get across a provincial town in England for that price.

Being just a few minutes walk away from the so-called old market area in Siem Reap, where there are many choices of restaurants at reasonable prices, we’d wandered down there to eat on two of our three evenings here. Just across the river from the old market region is an actual night market. This night market is a tourist trap with trinkets, massages and the like, fun for a brief wander to walk off dinner but little else, which is exactly what we’d done last night.

This morning we were off to see a real Cambodian market, the daily market where local individuals and businesses do their shopping. I expected this to be much more interesting and I certainly wasn’t disappointed. We arrived at 10:00 AM and the frenetic hustle and bustle, featuring the ubiquitous mopeds, was well under way.

We love spending time in the classic French markets but this took markets to another level. As we attempted to dodge the constant flow of two-wheeled trucks (i.e. small motorbikes that carry anything and everything), we were first confronted by displays of colourful fresh vegetables and fruit. There was the occasional meat stall out here, too, which I’m not entirely sure I’d have been comfortable buying from, as a delicate westerner. Shame on me!

Continuing to dodge small motorbikes, we moved in off the streets to the massive indoor area. Here we found more meat and several very dark and therefore difficult to photograph fish sellers. Selin told us the fish came from yesterday’s immense lake and so, all were fresh water species. Whilst the meat was most probably perfectly fresh, the fish were demonstrating their freshness by occasionally making a bid for freedom, squirming across the floor. I have an uncomfortable feeling that these fish would end up dying of their wounds during preparation, rather than being despatched first but don’t quote me.

Avoiding the desperately squirming, doomed fish, we moved on into the clothing section where bolts of material could be purchased, or a glittering array of traditional embroidered dresses, more suited to more mature ladies – they apparently are not considered modern enough to appeal to the younger Cambodian ladies. To decorate oneself further, there was gold jewellery on offer cleverly displayed under intense yellow lighting. Even along these dark, narrow alleyways inside the market hall itself, the occasional moped would zip past. Weird!

Photographing the Cambodian people is great experience. We’ve travelled to countries where one is expected to pay for the privilege of snapping someone but here, the locals actively enjoyed having their pictures taken and posed willingly and without their hands extended for payment. The children are absolutely terrific, too, and coming from me, that’s one hell of a compliment. How refreshing it is to be able to photograph cute children without suspicions or accusations being made. We have truly lost it in our country. Here’s a collection of smiling models spanning a few generations.

We burned up our remaining two hours chasing dragonflies beside the Siem Reap river and very productive our hunting was, too. Finally, it was time to return to the hotel for our farewell ride back to the airport. Whereas I felt tired by the surfeit of temples on our first full day in Cambodia, I now felt that I had experienced something of the real Cambodia of today. Very worthwhile.

Back to Singapore.

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