Haw Par Villa

As promised, here’s the story for another time.

One morning, I got talking to a guy who’d been in Singapore for two weeks. I asked him what he’d enjoyed most and what he’d recommend. Reeling off the usual guidebook attractions, I noted them down and circled my map. Just as I was going to clear my breakfast dishes, he said:

“Oh, and my favourite thing I did, was go to Haw Par Villa. It’s this place full of Chinese statues. I won’t say anymore, just go there. Trust me. It’s bizarre and brilliant.”

So I did. But not before having a sneak peak at the Lonely Planet guide to see if there was anymore information. The answer was, no, not really:

     ‘That which is derived from society should be returned to society’, said Aw Boon Haw, creator of the Tiger Balm miracle salve. A million dollars later, what he returned was the Haw Par Villa, an unbelievably weird and undoubtedly kitsch theme park showcasing Chinese culture.

Knowing that it was about the people who developed Tiger Balm, but not much else, I hopped on the metro and headed for the conveniently named station, ‘Haw Par Villa’. When I got off the line, I wandered into the street, expecting to find a map with a big YOU ARE HERE red dot, but who needs a map when you can just turn right and you come across this:

I walked up to the main gate where I was met by a man. It was very quite and I couldn’t see any tourists. This is often a bad sign in SEA.

“One hour,” he said. “We close.”

Crap. I’d left it too late and so I had to rush. I smiled and said thank you before continuing up the slope towards the attraction. When I rounded the corner, I found a signpost and a map. This place is big. With my camera around my neck, I decided to take a picture of everything as I knew I wouldn’t be coming back here. Not for a long time anyway.

Walking around, I thought I’d be able to gain some information from the abundance of plaques and signs dotted around the area, but most of them were a metallic gold, chipped and most of the writing was worn away. This was much the same story for the statues themselves. What were once colourful depictions of Chinese myth and legend, were now fading bridges and beasts, weathered and crumbling.

A clichéd splash of paint would have actually brought these statues back to life, but somehow, they seemed better this way. I’m sure back in 1937 when the Villa and it’s grounds were opened, the bright colours and clear, blue water features would have attracted visitors from all over. In fact, an article on the way out proved this to be true. But I felt as though this dilapidated park had an abundance stories whispering through the tunnels and over the bridges of chipped plaster and paint.

Did I mention it was deserted? Not only were there no tourists, but there were no staff either. I had the lonely place to myself. It was brilliant. I wandered around in the silent world of tigers, fish, people, and myth. It was a blissful hour.

Although run-down, I felt this place deserved a post. It was my favourite spot in Singapore. It felt unloved and unattended for, but this is what gave it charm and illusion – exactly what Haw Par Villa is supposed to represent.

Chendol

When looking for a dessert, you normally hope to find something sticky, or doughy, or gooey, but all I could find was shaved ice. Normally I would jump at the chance for something a little healthier than a massive pastry, but the pictures on the board above the stall didn’t make their produce look very, ‘desserty’.

Each picture was of a mound of ice with what I would describe as ‘colourful bits of gloup’ sprinkled on top of them. I almost went for the Lemon Ice Jelly because it sounded like the safest option, but I’m not travelling to eat safe, I’m in SEA to try as much as I can. With this in mind, I went for the wackiest looking dessert on the board. Fortunately it was one of the cheapest at $2.10 (that’s roughly £1 to us Brits).

My choice was called Chendol (often spelt, Cendol) I asked the guy behind the counter if he could explain what it was. His first answer was, “it’s Chendol”, so I tried again. This time he said, “it’s sweet”. I must have looked very confused because he added, “it’s very popular. People come back. Buy more.”

I was sold.

I handed him my money and watched another man work the ice machine. Before the ice was ready, he filled the bottom of a bowl with green and red cubes of jelly. Once he was satisfied with the ice crystals, he piled it on top of the jellies. I’m sure it would have been enough for two people, but I was going to have a good go at it myself.

After the ice came the brown syrup, which turned out to be coconut milk. To top it off he added a generous helping of what looked like green beans.

When I sat down with my dessert, I put the green beans and some ice onto my spoon. Ignoring the fact that my head was telling me the food looked like vegetables on a bit of brown rice, I ate the entire spoonful in one. Of course the beans weren’t actually vegetables. I Googled it and found out that they’re jelly noodles made from rice flower with green food colouring, and they are delicious. I expected them to be rubbery and the ice to taste like coke, but the mixture of jelly and coconut milk was heavenly. And even though the portion was big, at the end of the day, it was just ice and jellies. Hardly calorific. As you can probably guess, I went back another day to try something different. I did eventually go back and try the Lemon Ice Jelly. It might not have been adventurous, but for Lauren the fan of lemons, it was worth it.

This however, is my blog’s very own picture of Chendol:

Self-indulgence

The luxury began as soon as we stepped off Sri Lankan Airlines. Ahead of us were toilets that were so clean, I didn’t want to leave them. Where was I going to have such an enjoyable bathroom experience again?

We collected our backpacks from in front of a waterfall and headed towards the exit. At the cash point, I reluctantly withdrew one hundred pounds worth of dollars for the four days we’d be in the city. And ohhhh yes, I managed to spend every cent.

Free from jet lag, and kitted with a three day tourist pass for the metro, we started exploring. But first, we hunted for food. You can’t be a wilderness explorer without fuel. And this, readers of the blog, is where my food journey begins. I enjoyed the spicy tang of the Sri Lankan roti, but this was something special. If you find the right place, you can pick up a meal in Singapore for as little as $5. That’s a whopping £2.50 for a generous cut of duck breast, a mound of rice and some green veggies on the side. From here onwards, I will direct you to another area of my blog if I have something specifically food related to share with you.

Our first food stop was Chinatown. We hopped off the metro and headed towards Smith Street, a recommended hawker centre In the Lonely Planet guide book. The food stalls were lined up through the middle of the street. It was like an outdoor food court. While you’re walking past each food hut, trying and failing to decide which delicacy you wish to try first, waitresses attempt to entice you into the restaurants that are tucked away in the side of the street. But don’t do it. Street food is where you’ll find the best produce.

One beef dish down and I was ready to find some pudding. Okay, here’s where I’m going to ask you to bookmark this in your head, click over to the category ‘Edible Culture’, and read the post titled, ‘Chendol’. It is the beginning of my journey through weird, wonderful and not so wonderful, food. I’ll say no more here.

Unlike London’s Chinatown, Singapore’s popular cultural hub is not dominated by Chinese restaurants alone. Singapore offers a thriving cheap market that’s a bustling mass of locals and tourists until the last store closes. Collectively, the market is supposed to close at 8:00/8:30pm, but many stalls stay open to try their luck.

The next stop on the metro-line calls for a side anecdote:

I remember browsing through my newsfeed on Facebook a few years ago and coming across an article about Singapore’s newest hotel. I whipped the lead out of my laptop and ran downstairs to show my dad. He loves Grand Designs, so I knew he’d love this one.

Tired and aching from the day’s flight, I thought about heading back to the hostel and calling it a night, but Sam mentioned going to see Sky Park and I couldn’t resist. The two hundred metre high hotel looks like a surfboard balancing on three cocktail sticks. At night, the whole building is lit like a Christmas tree, enticing travellers and tourists into paying the twenty dollar fee to head up to the observation deck for a three hundred and sixty degree view of the city. To save myself the disappointment of not being able to go to the top and check out the infinity pool, I declined and admire the building from the outside.

One day, I’ll go back to Singapore with enough money to take my family to Sky Park, especially my dad – I’d like to re-kindle that excitement I saw the day I found the article.

Making the most of our metro tourist pass, we explored as much of the city as we could. There was so much to do there that we had different ideas of what we wanted to see, so one afternoon we split up. I stayed in the National Museum, while Sam headed to Sentosa island. I think the best part of my day was going to Haw Par Villa. But that’s a story for another time, perhaps. It’s too bizarre to add onto the tail end of this post.

Overall, I enjoyed my time in Singapore, and I’d like to head back there one day; with more money. Unfortunately, you need a lot of it to take part in the most interesting attractions.

Oh, but if you’re ever there, you have to go to the zoo. It’s amazing. It’s mainly open enclosures for free roaming monkeys. The food is reasonably priced there, too. Always a bonus.