Fruit

Did some "window shopping" (except the shops have no windows, they're all stalls), on the surrounding streets. Lots of exotic fruits such as the mangosteen, and durians, the fruit that stinks so badly it's not permitted on trains, busses, or in hotel rooms, at the risk of large fines. Then there's soursops, rambutans, dragon fruit, and longon. I heard that Queen Victoria offered to pay £50,000 if someone could bring her a fresh mangosteen!

A Slow Walk to Chinatown

The Search for St. Gregory's

Took a long walk to and around Chinatown. On my way I searched for the Armenian church of St. Gregory (to compare it with that of San Gregorio Armani in Naples), which should have been just beside a modern art gallery. It was designed by George Drumgoole Coleman, who was born in Drogheda, County Louth, Ireland in 1795 (by coincidence, my great-mother, Mary-Anne Coleman, was also born in County Louth). According to what I had read about it, it was the oldest church in Singapore, and was erected with funds supplied by the Armenian community (which included the Sarkies brothers, the founders of Raffles Hotel) in Singapore and the surrounding regions, and also by Chinese, Malays, Arabs and Jews. In 1909, it became the first church to be connected with electricity. This was only fitting as it was built in honour of St. Gregory the Illuminator!

Do you think that I could find the Church? It was marked on all the maps, but despite walking around the area for half an hour, and inquiring of the locals, I couldn't find it. I shouldn't be surprised if it's been demolished to make way for a new high-rise!

To return to Coleman: He came to Singapore via Calcutta and Batavia (modern Jakarta) and designed and built a house for himself at 3 Coleman Street (demolished in 1969). He left Singapore in 1831, after fifteen years in Singapore where he designed many notable buildings, and returned to Europe. He leased his house to a Frenchman who turned it into a hotel (where the novelist Joseph Conrad stayed and gathered much of his material for his novels on eastern sea-faring tales). Eleven years later he married Maria, the youngest daughter of George Vernon, of Clontarf Castle, Dublin—at 21, she was twenty-five years his junior. They travelled to Singapore the following year, where a son was born, but shortly after that Coleman contracted an illness and died. Maria didn't remain a widow for long—seven months later she married the wealthy lawyer and Freemason William Napier. The baby died at sea the following year.

Just a little further along Hill Street is Fort Canning Park, which contains the old Christian cemetery where Coleman and his son is buried. The top of the hill used to contain fortifications with guns pointing over the city out to the sea. A 68-pounder gun used to boom out at 5:00 AM each morning, again at noon, and once again at 8:00 PM, when all self-respecting Singaporeans were expected to be off the streets.

When Raffles first came here this hill was known as Bukit Larangan (Forbidden Hill). The ancient Malay kings of Singapura are said to have ruled from here six hundred years ago, and many artefacts have been found which attest to the age of the site. An ancient Muslim shrine here is named in honour of the last sultan, Iskandar Shah, where visions of a mysterious white tiger, coming from the shrine and disappearing into the surrounding vegetation, have been reported.

"My Settlement of Singapore continues to thrive most wonderfully - it is all and everything I could wish and, if no untimely fate awaits it, promises to become the Emporium and the pride of the East" - Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles, 10th September 1820

Fort Canning was the British military HQ, under the command of Gen. Archibald Percival, up to the fall of Singapore in 1942. The fall of Singapore is regarded by historians as the greatest disgrace in the history of British arms. Percival had commanded the Essex Regiment in West Cork during the War of Independence. His opposite number in the IRA was Tom Barry. Incidentally, Michael Collins house was burned down on the orders of Major Percival, leaving the family to sleep in the barn.

The Chinese Chamber of Commerce

This interesting-looking building on Hill Street dates from 1960, when it was constructed from the receipts of a collection held by the Chinese community.

The walls of the building support two rare dragon porcelein murals. The murals depict nine dragons floating on a sea of clouds, with the yellow dragon as leader (The number nine is considered lucky in China and is the number of the Emperor). The bottom wall depicts the background of a stormy sea, contrasting with the misty clouds at the top, symbolising the power of the mythical dragon which can ride the clouds and the waves. In Chinese mythology, the Dragon is the most revered supernatural creature—it's the symbol of the monarch. The word dragon was used to describe or qualify anything mighty, sacred or royal.

Two large martial-looking south China stone lions (purchased in China) are in a crouched position as sentinels on either side of the gate. It's a Chinese custom to touch the ball under the foot of the lion when you pass it, to invoke good luck.

Destruction of the Old Town

Chinatown is not as "ethnic" as I expected (nothing is, in modern Singapore), but it does take up two square kilometres. The area was first marked out as a Chinese settlement by Raffles himself in 1819. Most of the old buildings have been demolished, and only recently was an effort made to restore some of these buildings rather than knock them down, but only yuppies can afford them now. Gone are the old restaurants where the older people went for their dim sums, to chat and listen to their caged birds. So too the ancient women who combed the hair of other women for a living, and the colourful ceremonies on the seventh night of the seventh moon at which young girls prayed to the seventh sister of Heaven for faithful loving husbands. Gone, like the snows of last Winter...

Temples

I crossed the Singapore river and walked south along South Bridge Road. Almost next to each other are the Jamai Mosque and the surreal Sri Mariamman Hindu Temple, overflowing with statues of gods and mythical beasts. During the festival of Thimithi, young Hindu males charge over red-hot coals here, while chiropodists stand expectantly by.

Chinatown – The Place of Nightless Days

At the end of the road is Tanjong Pagar, which used to consist of brothels and opium dens (I wonder whether Jacques Brel ever visited this place?) until it was inevitably sanitized. Combined with the proliferation of gambling dens, it was sin city. Chinatown was also known as Bu Ye Tian – The Place of Nightless Days.

I called into a tea shop here that was visited by Queen Elizabeth in 1989, a fact that they don't let you forget.

Then strolled around the adjoining streets looking at a couple of Chinese temples. As I've mentioned elsewhere, I've never quite figured out the Chinese religion—it all seems to be bound up with the family, ancestor worship and local gods (rather like the Japanese, come to think of it). The last area here is the financial district, consisting, as one would expect, of modern high-rise office buildings. I returned via Club Street. This street was named after the guilds and associations that once resided here—with the influx of trendy bars, it will need to be renamed Nightclub Street.

Thinking I'd sample a quick drink after the long walk (ein gepflegtes Bier nach getaner Arbeit, as the Krauts say), I realized that I was short of cash, so I had to return to the financial district to search for an ATM.

The food hall

It was late when I arrived back in Waterloo Street, but I was hungry, so checked out the food hall across the road from the hotel. The decor was, unbelievably, like something out of the sixties—limegreen tables, red, blue, lemon, orange, stools. I chatted with the middle-aged women, who were giggling uncontrollably as I arrived (they might already have had their nightcap!). When they finished up they gathered around a table together for a few beers, along with the Bangla Deshi cleaner, and tried, unsuccessfully, to teach me some Mandarin.