PERSONAL AND BUSINESS

There are some places in Singapore where you just have to know someone in order to find them. Paul and I were introduced to our now-favorite restaurant by two friends who have been expats here for years. When our previously-established dinner plans were foiled by a nearly last-minute attempt to obtain reservations at a celebrity restaurant, they made a call to see if we could get a table at a local place called Valentino’s. We did and that night we made history.

The restaurant is at the end of what we would call a strip in the middle of the island nowhere near public transportation. Since the place is practically unheard of, I am confident that Paul and I never would have come across the place.

A straight-off-the-boat Italian family works together in a small restaurant with hard floors and exposed brick to serve the best food Paul and I have ever tasted – anywhere. The family tree, with photos, is on the first menu page. The daughter runs a pastry shop next door. The place is just perfect.

Paul and I were invited to one of the most exclusive sites in Singapore, The Island Club, for a business dinner. At the club that evening we enjoyed a nine-course meal that started with a whole suckling pig and ended with mango puree. The food was amazing and the views of the club grounds were equally as nice.

Yesterday, Paul and I had yet another opportunity to visit a place we never would have found on our own. A new friend, who will likely be a new professional ally as well, invited us to join him and his associate for an afternoon on the water.

We arrived at the Republic of Singapore Yacht Club and enjoyed a beverage before heading out onto the water. Though the thunderstorms were loud and proud in the morning, the afternoon revealed a near-perfect day. The sun was out, the sky was Singapore blue and giant, puffy white clouds formed around us.

We travelled up to 40 knots but the air was not chilled. The last time we were on a boat, we sailed around Nantucket in late May and I remember that the air was crisp. Since I always freeze, I brought a hoodie with me this weekend but never pulled it out of my bag.

The water was calm so the boat sped over the water, sometimes flying in the air and bouncing onto the water below. I have to admit, I was a bit scared in the beginning and truly wished the captain would have slowed the catamaran to a more relaxing speed, but I eventually go the hang of the ride. I realized that, as crazy as this may sound, speed boating is like horse riding in that one simply needs to find the rhythm. Once I found mine, the trip was enjoyable.

We went halfway around the island, from the southwest to the northeast near Pulau Ubin and pulled into a floating restaurant that sat amongst floating fish villages. Sometimes I forgot that outside of the hustle and bustle of the big city, there are still remote areas of Singapore where the locals live the local life away from the shopping malls and the MRT.

There are quite a few villages, on land and on the water, where locals live in tiny bungalows away from running water and electricity. They live the simple life and care for their families by catching fish and selling their catch.

In the middle of one fishing village floated a red and white almost boat-looking building with trees all over.

With a few honks of the boat horn, we were greeted by the restaurant staff as we pulled into the dock. We walked to a serene porch and just sat for a few minutes, taking in the experience.

The driver/boat captain disappeared to put in our drink order but the drinks returned well before he did. Paul and I wondered where he went, so we asked. We all laughed at the response that he was catching our food but we were soon advised that the aforementioned task was no joke at all.

Excited and curious, Paul and I went to see just what this “catching our dinner” entailed. We walked from the floating restaurant onto floating planks and over to the area where the fish were kept.

The staff caught the first fish, Paul’s favorite, grouper, in a net.

The second fish, a red snapper, was my prize. That’s right – I got to be in charge of dinner. To my dismay, I was not only provided a target but a weight goal as well. I needed to catch a red snapper weighing approximately 1.5 kgs.

A staff member prepared the hook and the bait, a slimy piece of squid and then tossed the line into the fish bed. The second the line hit the water, sounds of fish fins flapping through the surface abounded. It caught me off guard and I had to remind my brain that I needed to work. I laughed as I fumbled for the pole, looked for the winding mechanism and thought back to a time a decade in the past as I seriously thought about whether to wind the wheel toward or away from my body.

The fish was pulling so hard that I needed to hold the end of the pole at my belly button so that I could use my stomach muscles to hold the pole steady. I caught a winner on the first try, which was exciting. I don’t know why people complain about how boring and time consuming fishing is – I caught one in under four seconds!

Once the fish were caught, the staff gutted them on the spot and then sent them off to the kitchen. We enjoyed a great spread of boiled peanuts, fruits, shrimp fried rice, baby kailan and the fish we hand selected. And then there was the ice cream sundae.

We solidified what will surely be a great friendship and I found a team who will help me start my business and possibly hire me to do some contract work in the near future.

Just when I thought the day could not get any better, I looked at my watch and noticed that it was nearing 6 o’clock. We made one stop before heading back to the Yacht Club and we watched the sun set the whole way.

My GQ husband

It was such a great day, I could not have asked for more.  

SEE WHAT HAPPENS

I feel like having a job has seriously limited my ability to do blog-worthy things. I have heard complaints that I take too long to post blogs now because I have no time to write them – and, again, I have not done anything exciting during the week. 

Well friends, that is all about to change. Friday will be my last day on the payroll. I have stipulated that I will continue to volunteer my time on an in-process project until I get my business ordeal situated. I have also stipulated that I will be taking advantage of my time off to spend some time with my flighty husband.

The man just got back from three weeks in the States and he has six trips on the calendar over the next month. Luckily one of them is in Bali so I get to enjoy the benefits of a long weekend in one of my favorite places on Earth.

May is going to be an exciting month. In addition to Bali, I have plans to participate in three food exploration adventures in a series called Welcome to Singapore, What AM I Eating?! My first concert will be at the Hard Rock on the island of Sentosa where one of the epic 90s bands, Vertical Horizon, will be featured. Hello, girls’ night.

There are three national holidays approaching and I don’t mean Memorial Day because that doesn’t mean a whole lot to Singaporeans. We have our version of Labour day with an “our;” Vesak Day, Buddha’s birthday, which also falls on Cinco de Mayo and, of course, an entire day devoted to the Moms in the world.

Looking at the calendar makes me a bit sad because May was New England vacation month for Paul and me. We liked being in the gorgeous setting around Memorial Day, whether the week of or the week before. Our honeymoon that we took 11 months late was in Nantucket the week before Memorial Day. We got to enjoy the towns, the scenery, the beaches and the restaurants before the crowds arrived with the Figawi. As the ferries poured in Memorial Day weekend, we shipped out and headed to Boston. Sigh, Boston.

So May. May is going to be an exciting month. I have a lot going on in personal and business life and I am very much looking forward to what will come. 

I’M GAME IF HE IS

Thursday was supposed to be my last week at work. After my doctor-mandated vacation, I returned to experience a whole head load of symptoms that absolutely confirmed my allergy. That’s right, I am officially allergic to my job.

After a few days, I realized that I did not want to continue working while feeling like I had been punched in the face so I submitted a resignation letter. Not wanting to lose me completely, the leadership team decided to keep me in the office and have me work on a project with a tight deadline.

The work has been good. I feel like I’m back in the corporate world, applying the PEMC model, doing research, conducting impromptu focus groups, contacting offices across the globe to share best practices, and developing a full-fledged proposal. And I may have just signed myself up to create a database, train the staff and set up a reporting schedule. I’m sorry, what?

Since I am right in the middle of the project that will be presented to a government agency at the end of next week, I agreed to stay on through the end of the month.

The executive director and I are working on a new role that will have me managing some of the non-profit’s business functions. However, before I may begin working in this new capacity, we will need to develop a plan, agree to the terms and then we have to ask the government’s permission all over again. Yes, the government has to approve not only my ability to work but also my job title, my responsibilities, my salary and my credentials.

When I began contemplating the thought of me working in this new role, an idea popped into my head. What if I started a business that would allow me to work for the non-profit but also give myself some control over my schedule, my workload and provide long-term stability? So I got to researching.

In Singapore, it seems that starting a sole-proprietorship – a company owned and operated by one person – is quite easy. Paul and I today met with a friend who has been running her sole proprietorship for more than a year in order to find out how she came up with the idea, how she got established and how everything has worked out to date.

The information she provided was invaluable. After our discussion we believe that pursuing this option would be beneficial so, over the next few weeks, Paul and I will start the process and see what happens.

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HIDING HIS EXCITEMENT

Paul is finally on his way home. He left me at 4:30 a.m. on March 27 in a little blue taxi. I sat in the window seat and watched his car turn the corner as if it were the last time I would ever see him. And then I went back to bed.

He was able to spend 12 days with his family in Northeast Ohio before heading to Dallas, Texas, for a week of aircraft training. I spoke with him last night as he was getting ready to head into his final simulator session. I told Paul he should have his instructor throw every bad thing his way and see if he survives. Turns out, Paul already had that plan.

I am confident that my husband is a good pilot because I have heard several people say it many times before. He is smart, he is calm in what should be stressful situations and he knows what to do when something goes wrong – all things you want in someone who flies you around in something 50,000 feet above the ground going what feels like a million miles an hour.

When I spoke with him this morning, he advised me that he was challenged beyond what he expected and even had a situation where his body was physically fatigued because of the effort needed to keep the plane in the air.

Now he is preparing for a 24-hour trip with two connections that are each less than an hour. His second flight starts boarding before his first flight is scheduled to land. Should we take bets on when he will actually be home?

He does miss his wife and he is excited to hang out with me and sleep in his own bed, but he apparently has no other reason to be excited to come back to Singapore. I was surprised to hear this, though I suppose I shouldn’t be. This isn’t the first time I have heard him compare life in Singapore to life in the U.S.

He misses the food. He misses his family. He misses college football. He misses the ease that comes with knowing where things are, driving yourself from place to place, being able to see friends and having a conversation that is completely understood by all parties involved.

I get it, but I am happy here. Let’s face it. I don’t like the U.S. right now and I don’t know when it will make me happy again. Yes, New England is beautiful but even New Hampshire is under the control of the government and the government is what I despise most.

We can get gorgeous views and cool weather in other places so why not try Europe or Australia? Maybe I could get into rugby or cricket. I’m game if he is!

THE HIKE

The first time I mentioned a hike along Singapore’s Treetop Walk, Paul came up with a number of excuses as to why we should not go. For one, MacRitchie Park is an hour commute on two buses. Another reason – in order to get to the Treetop Walk, we would need to hike more than 5 km. And then there were the monkeys. 

Once I read that monkeys can be seen in the park, and informed my loving husband, he decided that we should not put ourselves into the monkeys’ path before our health insurance came through. OK, fine. He didn’t want to go. I got it.

Six months later, I still had not experienced the Treetop Walk that I had wanted to hike from the moment I read it existed. That changed Friday.

Again, I was inspired by the mom who got off her butt, hired a personal trainer and got herself into shape so that she could hike mountains in the Pacific Northwest with her kids. After surviving the death hill at Bukit Timah, I figured I was ready to accept the challenge of a five-hour hike to the Treetop Walk and back.

For this hike, I did not go alone. I went with a new friend and her husband. Friday, being Good Friday, was a national holiday so the park was filled with people of all ages. Many families were hiking together as most of the island’s population enjoyed a work holiday.

The trek was not too bad. I really enjoyed walking on the trails and seeing the jungle around me. We did meet some monkeys on the path but they were not phased by us at all; they just went about their business as we calmly got out of their way.

We followed the not-so-strategically-placed signs and eventually found our way to the Treetop Walk. We hiked up yet another death hill, walked the trail, climbed some stairs and then made our way through the Ranger’s Station to the suspension bridge. The bridge was only a couple of feet wide and did not leave room for casual walkers and photographers to be passed easily.

The bridge itself was quite short, not at all what I was expecting. Based on what I had read and had experienced at other parks, I was under the impression that the Treetop Walk would be several kilometers long and would take various paths along the forest. That was not the case.

We walked about 50 meters or so and began our descent along wooded stairs and path. I was hoping for much more of a view and much more of an adventure.

Well, I got my adventure. We came to a clearing, determined our location and decided on a path that would lead us back to where we started. Did I mention that it had been thundering for the last 15 minutes?

Oh yes. We had just taken our first steps toward the 5.5-km loop and the rain came down – calmly at first, and then it stopped a few minutes later. We decided to commence the trek so we headed out.

Before we knew it, the monsoon was upon us and I was the only one with an umbrella in the backpack. At one point, all three of us were huddled underneath my umbrella, backpacks at our feet in the middle, and we stood on the edge of one of the wooden paths. A few people passed us as we stood there and contemplated just how long we imagined ourselves in this position before realizing that it could rain all day.

We became close friends under that umbrella but we eventually moved on because we knew there was no other way. As the rains poured, our clothes became heavy, which added to our workout. Our feet inside our sopping socks were squishy as we quickly walked and sometimes ran on the path. When we came off of the wooden path and headed back onto the dirt, we realized that there was something else awaiting our arrival – the trail was nothing short of ankle-deep rapids that raced toward us.

We ran through it, trying desperately to find better ground. We took a break under a small building but then, again, decided to just keep moving. We sloshed through the rapids, made our way through flooded grounds and the whole time we were just amazed at our surroundings.

We all liked the rain. Watching the rain pour down, watching the effects of the rain on plants, the lake and the grounds and smelling the rain as it comes in are all great things. But, when there seemed to be an eternity between me and shelter, sometimes I did not enjoy pushing on toward my goal – especially when I knew that goal of shelter and a ride home would mean I would be sopping wet in the back of a bus or taxi that was filled with freezing air blowing on every part of my body. Holy cold.

I was ready to dive into my bag o’ sopping wet snacks, even though I know that no food or drinks are permitted inside cabs. At that point, I really didn’t care. I was wet, I was hungry and I had a sizeable ride ahead. And, to add to my hunger, the guy who rode to the park in a cab had pizza so the whole cab smelled like warm bread, savory sauce and melted cheese. Oh how I wanted some of that pizza. But, alas, I wanted a shower and some sweats more.

When I got home, I knew I could not shower right away because the hot water heater needed a chance to warm up. I took everything into one of our bathrooms and just unloaded. It was here that I confirmed that nothing was saved from the rain.

Why, yes, that is a cell phone in pieces.

Three days later, my husband’s cell phone (he has mine in the U.S.) sat in rice and still would not operate so I / the rain officially killed it. Yes, friends, that is the third phone I have lost or destroyed within what, six months? How much my husband should hate me, but he does not. Don’t feel badly for him, though. He will use this as an excuse to buy a new, pretty, not-even-released-yet Android phone. He is hiding his excitement well. 

REACHING NEW HEIGHTS

If there was a place that would show me just how truly out of shape I am, it would be Bukit Timah. After watching a television episode where an out-of-shape mom pushed herself to work out and go on a crazy hike up an Oregon mountain with two of her children, I was inspired to find a hiking venue in my hometown. Luckily, I have many options and I decided to start with Singapore's highest peak.

I like to exercise but I have trouble getting motivated and finding free things that I enjoy. Yoga classes and gym memberships are expensive and I would rather spend the money on food and coffee. Classes are scheduled and do not always meet my time demands or preferences.

Hiking is a great option. I can go wherever I want at my own pace and stay as long as I like. And, bonus, there is no fee other than my transportation fare, which this week cost me $28 because of crazy peak hour fees.

I thought I had been to the Bukit Timah Nature Reserve before but upon arrival I realized I had not. I was confused from the beginning and almost trekked the mountain bike trail. Luckily I only walked about 20 meters before I realized my mistake and turned back.

I examined the map, picked a trail that would challenge me and made my way toward the highest point in Singapore. Little did I know what awaited me.

Yes, I wanted to challenge myself but I did not expect to get hit with the death hill in my first steps. “What!?” was my reaction to the hill that was steeper than any incline I have climbed before. “Oh, you have GOT to be kidding me,” was my reaction when I turned a corner and saw that the death hill got steeper and had no end in sight. I was so out of breath just walking up the hill that I had to stop and nonchalantly read a sign about butterflies because I was panting harder than a sheepdog in Singaporean summer.

I was actually relieved when I saw my desired colored trail breaking off to the left. “Oh thank God. A break.”

The trails were a little wet and sometimes challenging but I enjoyed the trek. At one point, I stopped in my tracks because I wasn't sure how I would make it any further. Here is what I saw with no obvious trail ahead:

I'm sorry, where am I supposed to walk?

There were a few low-hanging branches…

…some definite muddy patches... 

...and quite a few stairs that had me celebrating conquering a single step. 

This one fell at the bottom of my knee cap.

This step was two inches above my knee! Talk about stretching.

I passed a few people on the way; nearly all greeted me with a “Hello,” or a loud and cheerful, “Good morning!” which truly brightened my day.

I was a little dismayed when I realized that I brought a phone but left my headphones at home. Without them, I could not listen to music on the hike. The experience, however, was great as I listened to the sounds of the jungle.

Only twice did I hear construction and helicopter sounds. The remainder of the hike, I was greeted by sounds of birds, lizards rumbling through the brush, mud squishing underneath my shoes, leaves crunching as I stepped on them and water falling from hillsides.

After making a few stops to catch my breath on the death hill and replenish my water supply, I made it to the highest natural point in Singapore in about 35 minutes. When I got to the top, all 163 meters, I was excited to take in the view. Instead, I got this:

And this:

And this:

The highest view in Singapore and not a single amazing lookout. Not the view I was expecting. 

Disappointed, I headed down another trail and made my way back to civilization. I was relieved to find that this new trail took me to the bottom of the death hill, though it would have been interesting to scale down. Many people I passed on the way up were walking down backwards and I heard one fellow hiker say going down was harder than going up. I don’t know what to think about that.

When I finished my complete hike I was disappointed that I was done less than an hour and a half after I started. I left feeling good about the morning, knowing I could have done more and realizing that the death hill would be my Philadelphia Rocky Steps. And, the hike that awaited me the next day would certainly give me my fill.

ONE YEAR IN SINGAPORE

Now that I have passed the one-year mark, I thought I might look back on my original observations, presumptions and misconceptions and see just what I have learned.

To start, I have to say that a year ago, I could hardly imagine what it would be like to sell most of our belongings, pack three suitcases and move across the world. Without travelling out of the country before, I did not know what to expect in the departing or arriving airports. I was not sure what our layover in Germany would be like. I had absolutely no idea how I would survive a seven-hour and a 14-hour flight because, if you remember, I wanted to shoot myself on a two-hour flight. And then there was that whole landing in a new country without an idea of what to do, where to live or just how far that one paycheck was going to stretch.

We thought that Asian people would stare at us because we had pale skin and I had blonde hair. We counted the white people and gave ourselves points until we went to Ikea and found where they were all hiding.

We went in search of what we thought was Chinese food only to find out that Chinese food is not the same as American Chinese food. Paul confirmed this with a taxi driver one day. He was in the back and somehow got to talking with the driver, who advised Paul that he used to live in Texas where he owned a Chinese restaurant. Jackpot! Paul thought. “Great. Then you can tell me – where can I find American Chinese food here?” Paul is a fan of the beef and broccoli and the sesame chicken add broccoli. The driver just laughed at him and explained that real Chinese food will not work for American tastes and American Chinese food cannot be found anywhere on this island. His heart broke as he sunk into the seat like a child told he could not have ice cream.

Speaking of ice cream, while I have yet to buy a pint of Ben & Jerry’s for $15 to $18 at the store, I have had a scoop or two at a scoop shop, and I have found other cheaper options. We had a neighborhood place called Udders – yes, Udders. Some of their ice cream has a weird texture and some of the names are a little suggestive like Horlicks Balls for example (Horlicks, by the way, is the British term for Whoppers), some of the ice cream is really good. We also have Cold Stone Creamery and a similar place called Marble Slab that Paul and I really like. Too bad Paul gave up sugar.

With regards to food and beverage shopping, our budget has at least tripled what it was in Columbus. I can spend someone’s mortgage payment at the grocery store on a given month. In the beginning, I was very dollar conscious but I quickly changed my approach. I just stopped looking at prices altogether. I planned meals, I bought what I needed to buy and when Paul asked how much something was, I responded with, “I don’t know.”

I used to cringe at paying a minimum of $18 for a bottle of wine but, when I want wine, I buy a bottle – just like I used to avoid Starbucks because a grande beverage will cost me $7.20 every time. I eventually got over that as well.

I remember that transportation was a bit tricky in the beginning. Without an employment pass, we were unable to obtain cell phones that had Google Maps. Finding my way around, especially without Paul was a challenge. It took several attempts and quite a few mistakes for me to make my way around the city but I now am confident I can find my way out of anywhere. The only issue I still have is walking – we still have not mastered where to walk without bumping into other people.

Though it seemed a bit improbable at the time, we survived our first day, found food – even in the rain – and waited three months to become legal. Now that it has been a year, my mind is wondering where we will be next year. We have an appointment to apply for permanent residency but Paul has made so many network contacts; he has opportunities coming out of the woodwork.

I wonder if we will be sharing residency in Hong Kong or if we will move to Australia. What about Dubai? Will Paul go back to an airline? Whether we end up staying in Singapore for the next decade or moving away again, I am excited for the year ahead and the possibilities that await us. Since we do not know our future or for certain how long we will be in Singapore, I am doing my best to continue reaching new heights, exploring new places and experiencing all that Singapore has to offer. 

LES EXCITED

The title of this blog is Les Excited because yesterday was a pretty exciting day. But I am also les excited about the new Facebook page. If you are on Facebook, search for "And Then I Moved to Singapore" for blog posts and more photographs of my adventures. Like the page, get your friends to like the page and spread the blog further around the globe. Thank you so much for reading!

Back to the story...

Yesterday I celebrated one year in Singapore and I cannot think of a better way to honor my year. I started the day at Starbucks, my home away from home.

I don’t know what it is about Americans and their coffee but I have become addicted to the flavor, the aroma, the language with the special names of coffees, sizes and milk selections that surprisingly a lot of people have a super hard time pronouncing and placing in the right order and the atmosphere in every café across the globe. I love that coffee brings people together like a holiday meal. My friends and I will plan our day around coffee. I know which cafés to visit when I hit certain regions. I love that cafés provide an outlet for alone time, whether for reading, working, playing or people watching.

After coffee with a coworker, catching up on all that I have missed in the last week (surprisingly a lot), I took the MRT and a long walk toward Marina Bay Sands. The rains started early in the morning – before 7. I heard the thunder rumbling as I was waking in bed and then the rain came. The rain came in such a way that I was quite certain it could have rained all day, but by 11:30 the rain was fading like someone coming out of a really good cry.

I was amazed at the quietness of the Marina Bay area. Never have I been down there without hearing sounds of chatter and music, seeing crowds and smelling the food being cooked by the sidewalk restaurants. Today as I walked along the water I could only hear a few sounds – the distant construction clatter from somewhere in the business district, the wind rustling through the trees, three birds calmly chattering and the paced sounds of jogging sneakers hitting the wet concrete.

The area smelled wet as the rain fizzled and, as I approached the sidewalk cafés I was met with other smells of meats grilling and breads baking. I passed the cafés to my right and the floating Louis Vuitton store to my left and headed around to the giant white sculpture once stated to be the “welcoming hand of Singapore,” the world’s first ArtScience Museum.

There are currently two travelling exhibits showing, one on the Titanic and one featuring Andy Warhol and Asian artists’ adaptations. For the first hour, I sat in a small theater and watched a Disney documentary about a 2001 expedition to the sunken Titanic.

The documentary showed footage captured through deep sea videos and superimposed images from the 1997 blockbuster. It was amazing to see how the details pictured in the movie were just like the images seen in the documentary eerily peaceful at the bottom of the ocean. The gates and the stateroom furniture, the stained-glass windows and the entryways – they just seemed aged but some were still intact.

After the movie I explored the exhibits. I am not really into artifacts or staring at things in air-tight cases so I did not spend a lot of time looking that the items pulled from the wreckage. I did spend time reading about the history and learning more about the accident and the people aboard the ship.

The exhibit was put together well. Each of the rooms depicted were set up as if the rooms were on the ship. When I walked into the first corridor, I had an instant feeling that I was walking onto the ship and I briefly wondered if I was allowed to be standing where I was. It took me a few moments to realize that this was part of the experience.

I walked down the corridors, into a stateroom and a deck-level café; I walked onto an open-air deck where most of the higher class passengers spent their time. At one point I came into a room depicting the crash; a small iceberg came out of the floor and above my head on the left. It had several fingerprints and hand prints embedded in the structure.

The air was crisp and cool; stars were lit above. The iceberg sparkled in the lights. One small child leaned in to touch the iceberg and an alarm went off. A few people in the room looked around but no guards came rushing in. The alarms stopped after about 10 seconds and all was normal. Three kids again leaned in to touch the iceberg and this time there were no alarms sounding.

As I approached the structure, I saw a sign that actually states that viewers should touch the iceberg so I do not know what caused the alarm. The sign stated that most of those who escaped the ship died of hypothermia because of the water and air temperatures. Touching the iceberg, I realized that the formation was not some squishy material that would mold my fingerprints as I gently pushed them against the surface. To my surprise, the iceberg really was made of ice – my fingers slid across the wet yet solid, cold surface.

For me, the eeriest part of the exhibit was the end when I walked across a clear floor and saw pieces from the wreckage below my feet on the “ocean” floor. Personal items and china pieces were seen peaking through the sand and something inside of me stopped.

Following a serious look at a tragedy that happened nearly 100 years ago to the day, I headed to an exhibit with a more whimsical feel – paintings and portraits by and inspired by the one and only Andy Warhol. I found some of his sketches humorous and did enjoy the wild colors and repeated patterns.

I met a friend for dinner and then we headed a few blocks down the street to see a whole new side of Singapore. A few days ago, when I first decided to celebrate my year in Singapore and ring in another, I started Googling rooftop bars. I thought that there was no better way to celebrate Singapore than to see it all with a fancy drink in hand. Little did I know I picked what I now consider to be the best spot in the city.

1 Altitude was a cozy rooftop with three bars and 360 degrees of amazing Singapore city views. Though it rained all morning, the night was clear. I felt so close to the stars from more than 925 feet (280 meters) off the ground – the stars just appeared brighter up there. 1 Altitude is the highest open-air bar in the world. We were so high, I could not get cell reception. Don't worry, though, Indonesia sent me a text message regarding roaming services.

The views were spectacular, the drinks were good and it wasn’t at all crowded. I stared at the city lights most of the evening and, with my champagne drink in hand, I toasted to one year in Singapore.