The End of the Road, Singapore - 29 June - 1 July 2011

I see trees of green, red roses too,

I see them bloom for me and you,

And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue and clouds of white,

The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night,

And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.

The colours of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky,

Are also on the faces of people going by,

I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do,

They’re really saying I love you.

I hear babies cry, I watch them grow,

They’ll learn much more than I’ll ever know,

And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.

Yes, I think to myself, what a wonderful world.

Just over seven months ago I picked up my bags off my nice comfortable bedroom in my family home in Norwich.  The house was warm but outside it was a typical wet Sunday in November.  My nerves were awkward.  Was I really about to do this?  Am I really going to be travelling around this world of ours?  It didn’t seem real.  I felt as though I was just going on a weekend away and would be back in a couple of days.  Now I’m sitting on Singapore’s Esplanade staring across the water at the city scape.  The day was quickly turning into night and lights over the city were flicking on creating bright reflections across the marina.  My heart was beating strangely and I breathed deeply with a variety of emotions running through my veins.  I did it.  I travelled overland from Estonia to Singapore.  An epic 24,000 kilometre journey which took me through the vast Siberian plain on the iconic Trans-Siberian Railway, taking a right onto the Trans-Mongolian line which was built by the Russians to create a trade route between Russia and China where I experienced the -40 degree Mongolian wilderness.  I finished my first stint of rail journeys in China where I sampled dog in weird and wonderful China as I made my way to survive many Vietnamese motorcycle journeys and agonising bus experiences through Cambodia and Laos.  I found relief in Thailand and went elephant trekking in the northern mountains of Thailand and marvelled at the marine life of Malaysia.

Marina Sands

Over the last seven and a half months I have met so many people and seen some unbelievable things.  Now my mind is jumping into the future with more than an ounce of apprehension.  The road and rail have become my friends.  Although sometimes agonising, I have become addicted to the constant onward movement onto new places with new people, an addiction I can only relate to Stockholm Syndrome.  There’s nothing like the feeling of arriving in a completely new city not knowing who you will meet, what you will be doing and where the next destination will be.  People often ask me whether travelling alone is hard.  The short answer is no as you are never alone if you don’t want to be.  Admittedly there were a couple of times where I was ready to pack it in and go home but instead of dwelling on that depressive feeling, I picked my bags up and simply moved onto the next town.  I can count on my hands the amount of days I was completely alone.  Travelling alone truly gives you the freedom to explore the world.  I met and travelled with many wonderful people who I can now call friends. 

Memories flash through my mind and I feel my facial expression change as I laugh, smile and nostalgically frown as I remember those companions I had met, got to know well and bid farewell.  Such a torrent of memories sometimes becomes incomprehensible to distinguish without exceptional concentration as one memory leads onto another and another and another.  All my memories of the past seven months are valuable and will always comfort me in my most desperate moments.  Standing upon a snow capped mountain in the middle of the Terelj National Park in Outer Mongolia was where I felt most freedom.  Silence and miles of nothing spread out before me.  The road has literally come to an end at the southernmost point of the Eurasian land mass just 85 miles north of the equator.  There was nowhere else to go as I unfortunately had no money to continue through Indonesia so the day after tomorrow I will make my way to Singapore Airport where I will board an aircraft bound for Perth, Australia. 

My thoughts turn to the future.  Following months of travelling through Asia, I was soon going to be thrust back into the Western world.  Apprehension flooded my mind with so many questions.  How will it feel?  Will I find a job before my money completely dries up?  There were no answers to these questions and I am sure I will find out soon enough. 

What a wonderful world. 

My sentiment and self-congratulatory mood subsides a little as darkness finally engulfs Singapore and the sound / light / fire show begins in the bay.  This is a magnificent show which is performed in an intriguing way.  Jets of water spray up into the air creating a fluid canvas for the projected film to appear.  Music blasts into life with an apt version of What a Wonderful World whilst the images depict a human’s life from birth to magnificence.  This nightly show certainly beats that of Hong Kong’s comparatively meaningless light and music show.  The rain began to fall shortly after the show finished and people took cover in the astounding Marina Sands complex which hosts a shopping centre, casino, theatre and hotel which stands prominently opposite Singapore’s central business district and become an iconic piece of architecture.  The shopping centre beneath is, as I can only compare, an indoor Venice complete with canals, bridges and waterfalls.

Singapore has come a long way since Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles landed on the sparsely populated island in 1819.  It now has 5 million inhabitants and has the fourth biggest economy in the world.  Singapore is an excellent city which provides a diverse cultural experience that no other country has.  The mixture of Chinese, Malay, Indian, English and other nationalities has surely placed strong influences in art, architecture and food.  Raffles certainly started something magnificent.  The highlight of the city for me is the stunning Esplanade Theatres on the Bay whose architect was influenced by the Durian fruit.  Inside it’s just as awesome and most of my time in Singapore was spent there enjoying the free concerts in the foyer out of the rain.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP… BEEP-BEEP-BEEP…  The day had arrived.  At 7:10 this evening the pilot will push the throttles to full and the aircraft will leave the ground.  It feels strange knowing that this was my last day in Asia.  When I booked the flight back in Phuket, it seemed trivial as though it was never going to happen.  But reality was staring me directly in the eyes as the lady behind the reception at Footprints Hostel handed me my boarding passes she had just printed off for me.  There was nothing for it but to enjoy my last meal and grab the MTR to the airport.  I spent a couple of hours in the hostel foyer writing and watching some Big Bang Theory which I had only recently discovered thanks to Jay in Langkawi. 

I stepped out of the hostel’s front door and as usual was hit by the humidity.  I have learnt it’s not worth complaining about the climate as it doesn’t change anything.  I embrace the humidity as my thoughts are focused on flying into the Australian winter.  I received an email from my Auntie Marilyn just yesterday telling me that the parcel I sent from Saigon had finally arrived.  This was good news as it’s all of my warm clothes which I will need.  It will be brilliant!  As the hostel is in Little India, I feel it’s only right to enjoy a freshly made curry from the local restaurant before I make my way to the airport.

With the curry sitting heavy in my stomach and a tingling tongue from the spices, I grab my bag from the hostel reception and make the walk to the MTR station.  This will be my last open air walk until I reach Australia.  The metro system in Singapore is one of the best in the world; fast, efficient and clean.  I step onto the train with a smile.  The apprehension I was feeling has given way to excitement.  The first leg of Andy’s Epic Voyage is coming to a close and a whole new chapter is about to begin. 

Marvellous Malacca... enough said - 26-29 June 2011

The late afternoon heat was relenting as our bus to Malacca opened its doors and invited us in.  Jackpot, I thought to myself as I saw wide reclining chairs.  I excitedly found my seat and got comfortable for the relatively short journey ahead.  As the bus was moving out through the suburbs of Kuala Lumpur my mind was running with the thought that in only a few days I would be on a plane flying towards Perth.  Everytime I think of the flight, I get a little anxious and remorseful as I feel my journey by land and sea failed and I missed out Indonesia.  I did not have any money to continue on my journey through Indonesia as I was already in debt on my credit card, so I had no choice but to give in and fly to Perth where I would hopefully get a job and pay off my debts.

We arrived in Malacca just before sunset.  I retrieved my handwritten notes from my bag which I had copied from the Old Town Guesthouse website.  The directions told us to get the number 97 from stand 13.  Unfortunately when we asked the bus driver at stand 13 whether he was going anywhere nearby, he said no and told us to go to another stand who in turn told us no and proposed a completely different stand.  A local lady watched us running from stand to stand in utter confusion and offered to help us find the right bus.  She asked a few drivers and also got no conclusive answers so took me to the bus station office where they discussed and finally gave us an answer.

It was dark by the time we reached the guesthouse.  We entered through the doorway on street level and climbed the stairs that led to the guesthouse which was spread out on the first level above an Indian restaurant and a Malaysian café.  The gueshouse was run by a Frenchman and his wife who were very welcoming.  They showed us to our room which was a simple twin with a tall window and importantly two fans.  We were lucky that the night market was on in China town so we took a walk, ate some delicious food at a small Chinese café and wondered aimlessly through the market browsing at the vast merchandise on sale.  The highlight to the market was the karaoke in the centre where people took turns on the big stage singing their songs.

St Paul's

Malacca was an important Portuguese trading town whose port linked the Malay Peninsula with India, Indonesia, Thailand and China.  Due to its past, Malacca has an extremely diverse culture and architecture which is apparent through every turn.  Churches and temples stand side by side and the area around the 18^th century Christ Church is magnificent and truly a remnant of Portuguese architecture and colours.  Upon a hill overlooking Christ Church and the rest of Malacca are the enchanting ruins of the St Paul’s, which was originally built in the early 16^th century.  This poor church has gone from small beginnings, enlargement whilst the Dutch were around and finally being used as an armoury for the British army.  The views from above were fantastic and stretched all the way to the coast where you can clearly see the container ships steaming through the Straits of Malacca which were once notorious for pirates. 

Following our walk around town and up the hill to St Pauls, we decided to take the weight off our feet and enjoy a boat tour down the river through the heart of Malacca.  It was pleasant but not relaxing or informative at all as we were surrounded by an extremely large Indian tour group who decided they needed to converse as loud as possible.  I’m sure they were in a competition who could make the most annoying noises at the loudest possible volume which completely outdone the recorded tour guide.  Even though we couldn’t hear the information being provided, we could see that there wasn’t actually much of interest to see on the way apart from the extraordinary painted building stretching up one side of the river and a rather depressing looking fairground. 

This was my last day in Malaysia and my onward travel was yet to be decided.  I knew that I was going to head to Singapore but how I was getting there was the issue.  I really wanted to take the train as I love trains and it would have been nice to finish my overland journey off with a train journey.  Not only that, but it would have be a historic journey as the Malaysian and Singaporean rail networks have decided to cease the journey from Malaysia into the central Singapore Railway Station and stop trains at Woodlands station at the Northern frontier.  They hope that this change will speed up the immigration process and from Woodlands you can hop on the MTR which will take you anywhere in Singapore.  The last journey into the centre was planned to take place on 1 July 2012.  Getting the train from Malacca isn’t that simple as you have to get a bus to Tampin which is 38km north of the city.  It was either the train or the bus.  My mind was torn between the two but was eventually settled when I looked inside my wallet and saw only enough to get the bus, no more.

The day had come to move on after a fantastic few weeks travelling through beautiful Malaysia, seeing some pretty awesome places and meeting some wonderful people.  It was also time to say goodbye to my Malaysian travel partner, Barbara, whom I had met on the ferry between the islands of Langkawi and Penang and had travelled with throughout Malaysia.  She had been a fantastic travel partner but it was time to go solo once again as she had a couple more months of travelling South East Asia and was heading back up north to Ipoh.  Our last journey together was the bus journey to the bus station.  As we arrived at the station we headed to the relevant ticket offices which were actually next to each other and were lucky enough that our busses were both leaving within minutes.  Our goodbye was quick as we both had to rush to catch our onward buses. 

I was on my own again.  Travelling is a fantastic experience however, travelling alone means you have to often say goodbye to people whom you have become good friends with.  I knew that this was the last time I was going to say goodbye to anyone as I was only spending one and a half days in Singapore which meant it was unlikely for me to make any decent friends.  I sat in a seat towards the back of the bus with my bag behind me, fished out my MP3 player, reclined my seat and relaxed whilst watching Malaysia fade away behind me.