Last Friday morning 9.30 am. Hubby and I have been in Singapore for 4 days, doing the stuff we need to get done: getting a bank account, a visa, visiting the office for the first time and running around in general to get electrical converter plugs, a guide-book (in English), an umbrella, and all sorts of odds and ends that we seem to need. We are still severely jet-lagged, although it seems to get better every day.
For this Friday morning our relocation manager has set up a tour of the city, just to see where we’d like to live. We are still on Mexican time and therefore arrive late to meet Jenny, our tour-guide from British descent. She knows the city really, really well and had an answer for any question we could think off and more.
The tour went through Orchard Road with an explanation of what to buy where (this I cannot reproduce), Kampong Glam and Little India to the east coast of the Island including the beaches and hawkers market. We then went to the Marina Bay area as well as the CBC, Chinatown, then onward to Holland Village and Bukit Timah, two popular expat neighborhoods with hawkers markets, shops, etc. So even though the tour was organized well and efficient, it felt like:
Jenny was obviously very knowledgeable about the city and gave us a lot of information. Ever since then hubby and I keep asking ourselves, what did Jenny say about [insert any topic] again? In the 4.5 hours she toured around with us, she showed us how to figure out a lot of stuff, from the best shopping malls and restaurants, to the best Singapore magazines, and (most importantly) got us totally excited about moving here. The only negative thing would be that it was too short…
After the tour we met our relocation officer, Celia, who has the tough job of trying to find a house we will like. We don’t envy her, because when we did our own search there were about 1600 apartments available with the search conditions we entered. So we say: go Celia, go! Next week I will find out what she has in store for us.
Since then I am wondering around the city as if I were a tourist. I am trying to grasp the idea that this is going to be my home for the next while, but this city is different every day. This is not just my impression; the city IS changing every day, because of the Grand Prix on Sunday. So after next week things should go back to ‘normal’, whatever that is.