I’m far away now, but I’m remembering Australian summer evenings swimming in the creek, when swallows dip and swoop after insects, and the platypus drift like sticks, then curl their slick and furry backs into the depths. Water dragons leap from the rock ledge. A eucalyptus leaf, gondola shaped, drifts downstream, and on breezy days a thousand tiny blossoms alight from the trees. I know all these creatures – even once the shock of the black snake, swimming from bank to bank. But for years I was puzzled by the small triangular snouts, which would pop up from the water’s surface and regard my quiet breast stroke approach, eye to eye, as we were. Was this something I should fear, we both wondered? When I realized they were turtles, it was an immense relief, though it is likely the same could not be said from their viewpoint.
I remember those turtles of Booroolong Creek while watching the
smiling faces and watery balletic movements of the larger, paler turtles at Singapore Zoo. They reach on floating tiptoe to grasp at the waving greenery deposited for their lunch. Above their glassed-in water cavern, a proboscis monkey sits on a branch contentedly munching a similar leafy bundle. The fleshy protrusion of its nose (surely unnecessary) is sadly too much like a flattened, flaccid penis, a truly awkward feature that is not only the reason for its name, but undoubtedly and ironically its main attraction. M
eanwhile, outside this sheltered grotto, it is raining, a late monsoon shower, and the sound of water on leaves, water from the many little rainforest streams and small waterfalls, enhances a great sense of peacefulness in this lovely zoo, in the steamy heat.
We arrived last night into the smoothness of Singapore. 
The long smooth road from airport to city centre is edged by perfectly smooth clipped hedges, many miles of them. The taxi, air conditioned to perfection, has padded seatbelts, to sit soft and smooth against the body. There is no question of the fare – it is a smooth payment of a fair meter price. Perak Hotel, on the edge of Little India, is elegant, smoothly ru
n, clean and welcoming. We walk around the corner, where even Little India is far reduced in chaos to Real, Big India, but happily, still exuberant and colourful, easy going. It is a type of easy going that is purely Asia, to us, making our bodies smile. It’s late and most shutters are down, but we share a Kingfisher beer, and eat a murtabak from a tiny restaurant, and it’s delicious, the chilli just right for my taste – not too hot in the mouth, but sparking on the throat. We’re here at last again, after a long, not-so-smooth road of the last years.
At the Zoo, thousands of long, pink
filaments sway from some sky reaching trees; there are smaller rainforest trees too, on islands amongst the streams and pathways, where tiny cotton-top monkeys dart elusively, or small otters play in the shallows, overhung by bright red waxy flowers. 
The rain is soothing, making a quietness, people smile and wander, and there is barely a camera in sight.
We follow a jungly pathway, and there close by, but beyond a river and ravine, are two white tigers. One lies beneath a rock ledge, while the other restlessly stalks the bank, staring with menace (or frustration) at the humans on the other side. White tigers, the noticeboard says, are all descended from one rare capture by the Maharajah of Mysore, and 
since then are only found in captivity. Does this somehow make them less what we think of as “tiger”, I find myself wondering? Not in their essence, no, the wild power is there to be seen in the pacing male’s eyes, its fluid body which is, fascinatingly, almost impossible to photograph in its ceaseless motion. But is a creature so contained, so controlled, born only in captive conditions, still “wild” – surely the key
word to our inner cognition of “tiger”… I am sorry, tiger, I say inwardly. I photograph it, compulsively, but pointlessly.
I do not photograph the polar bear. It lies immense, sleeping, white, furry, in its ice cave, its own small iceberg ocean near by. It is alone, too, except for the families lined up to sit by the glass and be photographed with a polar bear. It makes me too sad, this lonely polar bear in the tropics. And who cannot think then of the melting world of the icecaps. Besides, I’m cold there, and now I feel vulnerable with jet lag and the change in temperature. We all are more vulnerable than we know – more than we want to know.
But out there, oh joy, the gibbons are
whooping and swinging and everyone can’t help but smile. Woo, WOO, WOOOOOP! The one near our path climbs with agile monkey limbs to the very highest reach of its tree, woops as loud as can be, then lies carelessly along a branch for a short nap. He springs up, hangs by one hand, hangs by two hands, and woops some more, answering the call from several trees distance. We 
wonder why these monkeys without cages, without wired-in fences, stay in this one place. So too the flamingos, pale pink and white, elegant coconut ice queens, on long legs dipping long necks to the stream from the greenest of grassy banks, and the kingfisher, swallowing with difficulty a large goldfish it has speared from the pond below. They could just fly away. But this world is perfect for them, we suppose, they have no need to leave, it is their territory now.
Out there is the Singapore of wide highways and high rise human endeavour. Here, with the trees and the animals, was the very best way to spend our one day passing through the smooth city. I take with me the exuberant song of the gibbon, and the turtles’ smile.
Thanks Julie – Made my nose swell with anticipation of further postings.
Terrific site. Well done Mick.
Just one point…some of your smaller photos are occluding the last line of the text above – I had a bit of trouble tracking the thread of the sentences at first. I was not sure if it was presented in two vertical columns or as stepping stones form. I worked it out but it might be worth checking that. Should it prove to be a teckie type issue, a work around would be to use light coloured photos (with sky and clouds etc at their top) so the black text can be read over the photo. – Or – change the type colour and write on the photos.
Whatever the case…great stuff . I will be following -your stepping stones- with wonder, interest and – whatever the other word is. Dom
Hi Dom, nice to hear you! I’m happy your nose is swelling for a good reason! Can’t always say the same for mine..You know you could also follow some of our doings via my facebook page. I’m not having that problem with the text not being visible on my Mac with Firefox -Michael will check that though. See you at the next stop, I hope…Julie xx
Hi Dom, I was able to replicate your display problem on Julie’s Mac using Safari. Don’t have Safari on my travelling PC, but as Julie’s Firefox and my Firefox and IE all show correctly, I’ll just have to feel sorry for those stuck with Safari on a Mac. I expect it’s a WordPress or theme problem, and although I could look up a code fix for it, I am already having trouble remembering all the code alterations I have done, which have to be replicated with every update, so I might skip this one.
Singapore might be scarily ordered but I think I will appreciate the relaxation of a safe taxi ride after a long haul from Europe. Padded seat belts no less! Probably won’t go to the zoo but did you go to the Changi museum? Wondered what it was like.
Yes Marilyn, the orderly functioning of Singapore is a relief and a pleasure to arrive in. I’m not so sure about it as a way of life, or that it is all it appears! No, we did not go to Changi museum, so can’t be helpful there. Because we only had this passing through day, we wanted to just be somewhere green and quiet. We didn’t go there last time either, admittedly, but to Chinatown, Arab St and little India looking at temples. And the great temple of commerce, Orchard Rd, but that was only to see the Christmas decorations. I’d like to see Changi, and also the modern/colonial quarter. My cousin Joan enjoyed the Singapore Duck as a way to get a good view of things.
What wonderful evocative descriptions and photos. An auspicious start to a transformative adventure!
Thanks Bill, and hello…I imagine things will become a little more intense as we go on!! Safely and pleasurably, we hope. Since then we have done quite a lot!
Great to see the blog. Sandy and I are passing though Singapore December 11 – 13 and by coincidence we have booked the Perak Hotel. Pleased to see your opinion of it. Hope the trip is all you wish for and more. Safe travels. Looking forward to the opportunity your blog will give for some armchair travel.
Hi Colin, you might be interested in my TripAdvisor review of Perak Hotel ( I am Michael 1052):
http://www.tripadvisor.in/Hotel_Review-g294265-d498395-Reviews-Perak_Hotel-Singapore.html
Hello Colin! We’ve been too busy to write much and I’m not sure of what sort of things to write on the blog, but hope I’ll get more comfortable with it soon. Now ensconced in Delhi for a week -here at last. Lovely to hear from you, hugs to both.
The last night at Perak Hotel I was bothered by a light shining in from an alleyway outside, but in the morning the manager told me I should just have asked to have it turned off. The desk is manned at all hours. They are very co-operative.
Hi Michael & Julie,
Just to let you know that I’m on board at last to follow your blog. Lost the link so had to google it and here I am. Your trip so far sounds very relaxed, I suppose because of all the beautiful nature photos, empty train station, and sparse Singapore streets. The albino tiger is so handsome. Dubbo Zoo had one the first time we went, but I didn’t see it the last time. I presume it died, hopefully from old age.
I sympathise with your feelings about the polar bear. I saw one in the Vancouver Zoo years ago, melting in the heat, the poor thing. How cruel zoos used to be. I cried over the penguins in the Shanghai aquarium. They looked so sad, standing there silently on their fake snow, so far from home.
We’re entering our last weeks of preparation for our exhibition, and firing yet another kiln today — the big one. It’s full of large sculptures. Fingers crossed that they turn out as expected. It’s all so experimental. Many ceramic sculptors paint their work as they can’t handle the unpredictability of firing. After spending days and often weeks on a piece, to ruin it in the kiln is cause for a nervous breakdown. Well, fortunately I have a large garden, soon to be full of sculpture — some failures, no doubt.
I look forward to following your adventures. Stay well.
Joan (and Carl)