The plan for 2017

I'm not one for writing obligatory New Year's posts, but I told myself this morning that I would tack something here for posterity, so here it is.

I'm going to spend the year being a "writer" writer. By which I mean I'm going to work on my novel and take on very little commercial freelance work. To that end, I'm very lucky that I've been accepted as writer-in-residence at Nanyang Technological University (NTU) for six months (commencing tomorrow!), as well as at a couple other foreign residencies in the latter half of the year.

Objectives for the year: finish a decent draft of the Dakota Project, which I didn't have the time or headspace to properly get into for much of last year, and be very, very prudent about money. Step one of the latter is probably not to go crazy buying all the Chinese New Year goodies that are already flooding the shops.

Actually, my first order of business is to put together the syllabus for the undergraduate creative writing class I'll be teaching as part of the NTU residency. I've taught writing workshops over the past few years, but this'll be my first time back in a formal classroom in over a decade. I'm both excited and prepared to be astonished.

As I alluded to on Twitter earlier today, I'm really lucky to be paid for six months to read books about writing, teach writing and also write. So I'm pretty tingly about 2017, despite the spectre of Trump.

Oh, and if you haven't read it already, check out Kirsten Han's piece, "Lessons From Singapore On Trump’s Authoritarian America".



"I've always hated watching you leave"

I woke up to the news that Carrie Fisher had passed away, and a thousand voices crying out online about it. Inside my head I keep hearing the solitary, soulful notes of "Luke's Theme" from the soundtrack of the first Star Wars movie, A New Hope (the music piece officially known as"Binary Sunset" and later, as "The Force Theme"). In my mind's eye, I see the scene from last year's Star Wars: The Force Awakens, when General Leia Organa (played by Fisher) walks slowly towards Rey and they hug, in a moment of mourning for the recently killed Han Solo.

I first encountered Fisher-as-Princess-Leia in 1983, when I was nine and saw my first Star Wars movie, Return of the Jedi. Despite the execrable slave-girl costume that launched a thousand sexual fantasies, the movie turned me into a fan of a contemporary mythology for the first time. Before it became cool among my peers to like Star Wars or anything else that would qualify as a geek pursuit today, I was devouring Star Wars books and hoarding videotapes of precious, taped-off-TV airings of the films from the original trilogy. Princess Leia became part of my personal pantheon of women in science fiction/fantasy who kicked ass, alongside Commander (eventually Admiral) Lisa Hayes of Robotech (the books, not so much the cartoon series), FBI special agent Dana Scully of The X-Files and and Buffy Summers of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (the television series, not the movie).

Seeing Fisher-as-General-Leia last year felt like witnessing a small miracle: a post-1980s Star Wars movie that did not entirely suck, a once sexualised character allowed to age realistically – and also exist as a convincing military commander and mother and estranged lover all at once. In contrast, seeing the CGI version of Fisher-as-princess in this year's Rogue One was a disturbing jolt – Fisher immortalised with the earmuff hair buns and impractical flowing white dress from A New Hope.

Funny enough, the one Star Wars action figure I ever owned was of that particular version of Princess Leia, except that the action figure – because of the mechanics of construction – had the princess wearing what was effectively a white pantsuit, with a removable white robe around it. She also had a blaster. All the better to kick ass with, I used to think when I was playing with the figure, sans robe, against my cousins' multitude of (male) action figures.

Fisher was not only the princess, of course. She was a sharp writer, a brave advocate, a memorable actress (When Harry Met Sally is another of my old favourites) and an unabashed personality who perhaps best fit the description of the Rogue One droid K-2S0: "He tends to say whatever comes into his circuits."

Most of us, women and men, don't have to contend with being a symbol in addition to being a person. Fisher couldn't help the fact that she became larger as a symbol than as a person, no matter how much she contended with that symbolism and accomplished in her own right. As someone far, far away from her galaxy, all I can say is that the symbol mattered too and mattered greatly – both the princess, and the fiercely honest, fully alive person Fisher seems to have been.



15 October 2016

On vacation in Japan. Spent the day at Arashimaya, thinking about the past, the present, and future pasts and presents.

Spent the day at #Arashimaya, thinking about the past, the present, and future pasts and presents. • #latergram #Japan #Kyoto #Tenryuji #TenryujiTemple #Japanesegarden #autumn #fall #autumncolours #fallcolours #blueskies

And kept running into ojisan (grandfather) types ...

And kept running into #grandfather types ... • #latergram #Japan #Kyoto #Arashimaya #CoffeeShopHirose #cafe #coffeeshop #ojisan

And kept running into #grandfather types ... • #latergram #Japan #Kyoto #KyotoStation #ojisan #Halloween #lightshow

Or maybe it was just me.



Thinking out loud about #NDP2016's "The Legend of Badang"

Nochyet National Day, yet flags haranguing me everywhere #SG50 #sg50zzz #Singapore #windynight #MajulahSingapura #Singaporeflag #thisishometruly

It's National Day next week, so naturally the government propaganda machines are working at full tilt, drumming up interest in the annual National Day Parade. When I saw some posters at bus stops and other public areas recently, I was surprised to see that this year's parade storyline seems to be focused on Badang, a figure from Malay folklore who was renowned for having extraordinary physical strength.

Okay, maybe not that surprised, now I think about it. In the last decade or so, official government narratives have given more attention to the figure of Sang Nila Utama aka Parameswara aka Sri Tri Buana, the mytho-historical 'founder' of a 14th-century settlement in Singapore. As I mentioned in a talk on Singapore history last night, it's good that pre-colonial, pre-modern history is being more publicly acknowledged than before; on the other hand, it still falls into the orthodox 'great men' approach to history by enshrining yet another king/ruler/founder figure in the narrative.

I guess the parade organisers this year decided they had to look for another indigenous figure to excavate from the past. Badang is an easy choice: he's physically strong, a loyal warrior for his ruler, and doesn't endanger concepts of patriarchal masculinity. There's no Delilah figure or embarrassing episode where he loses his strength, and by various accounts he even seems to have had a peaceful death (no political intrigue, no violent denouements).

But of course, the parade organisers had to tinker with the myth some more, in the official National Day Parade video about the legend of Badang.

First off, let's be clear that this is quite an enjoyable, energetic film – certainly sexier and slicker than most retellings of Malay folklore that I've seen. Which is fine. It's entertainment. I get it.

But the film neatly elides folklore and fact in a way that is, in my opinion, unnecessary and reductive of the richness of myth and the intricate ways in which pre-colonial Singapore culture and history is embedded with that of our neighbouring islands and countries. Not to mention the fact that it completely misses the point of the Singapore Stone.

The video begins with the voice-over narration: "This is the folklore behind the Singapore Stone." It goes on to explain how Badang got his fantastic strength and how he used it to serve his people and his ruler, before the climactic moment of him hurling an impossibly large boulder from the top of a hill. We see the boulder smash into a bazillion small pieces, then we are told (at about 3:20 in) that the rock – and inexplicably, we now see the original, large, unsmashed rock – landed at the mouth of the Singapore River.

Suddenly the film shifts to Singapore today, Marina Bay Sands skyline and all. The voice-over continues: "This rock was blown to pieces by the British in 1843 and a fragment known as the Singapore Stone now sits in the National Museum of Singapore." That is the last spoken line of the film.

I found it disconcerting, the way the story shifts from acknowledged folklore (the film is, after all, called The Legend of Badang) to empirical fact (when the stone was blown up, where the fragment remains) – as if both are equivalent realities. But that is a matter of storytelling finesse that perhaps the parade organisers felt that they could safely ignore. When the mytho-historical figure of Sang Nila Utama is trotted out in textbooks and at national events, it doesn't matter if he existed; the important thing is that Singapore today is real, and to evoke a sense of pride today in some concept of ancient Singapore. In the same way, it doesn't matter if Badang existed and if the stone he threw (if he threw one at all) was what we now know as the Singapore Stone; the important thing is that the Stone is with us (at least a fragment of it).

Singapore Stone
Source: Yuli Chua

But the story of the Stone, and of Badang, just seems so small in this account. There is no mention that one of the main sources of the story of Badang is the Sejarah Melayu (The Malay Annals) – a text that comes out of the Melakan tradition, and which is thus a shared story of Melaka, Johor and Singapore, among others. Specifically the story of Badang (as translated from the Sejarah Melayu and reprinted in an English magazine in 1822) describes him as living in Saluang in Sumatra when he acquires his strength (not in Singapore, which is what the National Day Parade video states at 0:06).

My point is that Badang is very much a story about a hero of the region, not a man from exclusively Singapore, and this was in keeping with how indigenous people in pre-colonial times (and perhaps, some people today) view their identity and culture as being regional and interconnected, not isolated to one island. From the pragmatic, 21st-century, nation-building, rah-rah-National Day Parade perspective, I understand why the parade organisers have cut Badang down to being a hero of Singapore. But that is a small, small way of looking at Singaporean identity and history, and one that does us a disservice in the long run. It encourages us to see ourselves, often falsely, as a case of Singaporean exceptionalism, rather than as a Singapore that still is, and should still be, intertwined with the region.

As for the Singapore Stone, it appears for less than 10 seconds in the 3 minute, 45 second-long film. We are told that a fragment is at the National Museum, and that's it. We never see a photograph of the actual stone (although there is one on the National Day Parade webpage "Badang and the Singapore Stone"). There is no description of what the stone, empirically, is: an artefact of sandstone, inscribed with a faded, obscured script that has never been conclusively identified, although it bears similarities to other ancient scripts on stones that have been found in the region, from Kedah to Karimun to Kalimantan.

I confess my own bias here: I have a deep love for the unknowability of the Singapore Stone. It is inexplicable to me that we have this magic (and I do not use that word casually) object in our museum, in our midst, and we do not acknowledge it, in everyday discourse, as an emblem, perhaps even a synecdoche, of Singapore history. It is essentially unknowable, a cipher for all time (barring the invention of a time-travel machine to go back and meet the people who inscribed it). It survived at least five centuries (perhaps up to ten), exposed to the ravages of tropical weather, before it encountered men who were more intent on removing it than on understanding it, and then it was desecrated and almost entirely destroyed. Yet one tiny, tantalising fragment is still with us today (a miracle also, given that things are often lost, if only by neglect, when museum collections are transferred from colonial to postcolonial administrations).

It is silent, it is indecipherable, and yet it says so much: about a people who carved words on stone in a time when such things were extremely difficult and painstaking, about a people who had language, and had things to say that were worth carving into the permanence of stone. We do not have the means or wherewithal to access what they said, but that is our burden, not theirs.

Of course, to be in a state of unknowing, or merely to acknowledge that sometimes access to the past is cut off by impatient successor states that have no interest in that past, is not the sort of message that a Singapore National Day Parade would want to deal with. Far eaiser to cherry-pick the useful characteristics of a regional legend – make Badang 'Singaporean', make all his exploits take place here, imply his realness by casually equating the Singapore Stone with Badang's stone – and merge them into an insular new myth, rather than to posit that Singapore could find itself by looking outwards or by embracing uncertainty.

I know, I know – it's just a National Day Parade video. It will be forgotten by the end of the month. I honestly don't remember anything about last year's parade, or the ones before that. It's a spectacle, short-lived but loud and declamatory. It is everything the Singapore Stone is not.

But the parade is still a claim to identity, and a claim to what being Singaporean means, and for all that it has adopted the posture of elevating a figure from Malay folklore (and all that implies in our majority-Chinese society), it really isn't saying anything new or advancing a more open, progressive, hopeful or imaginative vision of Singaporean-ness.

There are many myths and fictions we tell ourselves. I just wish we would start choosing better ones.



Mid-year report

Good #morning, #Singapore

When I woke up this morning to see sunlight slanting off the blinds of my bedroom window, I was the happiest I'd been all week. All week I'd been plagued by interrupted sleep: like clockwork, around 5 a.m., I'd wake up for no explicable reason, and instead of drifting back into peaceful slumber as usual, I would lie sleepless and restless for an hour or more, till dawn crept up and the first buses and traffic of the day became audible, then I would finally snatch another hour or two of sleep before having to properly get up for the day. Several days of this left me cranky and listless and unable to do anything creative; I have no idea how parents of young children deal with this for years on end, and once again take my hat off to all my family and friends who have kids.

After a few nights of these 5 a.m. stirrings, several of my friends were beginning to think that something otherworldly might be going on, but I truly never felt anything except wide awake, alert and eventually irritated with being awake. Also, except for the summer solstice on Monday, I can't think of anything else that might've thrown the week off whack.

So I was relieved this morning to find that I had, indeed, completed a full night's sleep, and I'm hoping for another undisturbed one tonight. It was also fortuitous because I had to help a close friend with a little unexpected home emergency today. I'm sure I could've helped her with inadequate sleep, but since it involved a fair bit of driving, it's just as well my brain wasn't zombieified by poor sleep.

Catching a ride || #latergram #Singapore #insect #car #urbannature #white

I'm pretty sure this isn't related to my sleep issues, but also in the last week or so, I've run into people who either didn't know me before this year and know my blog as a place of sporadic updates, or who've known me since the early days of blogging (circa the early 2000s) and remember its furious, frequent and – for some, at least – entertaining entries. The latter group asks why I don't write much anymore, which is something I've been struggling with here, off and on (ergo the sporadic updates), for the last couple of years.

The short answer is: no time and headspace. A more expanded answer is that I haven't figured out a rhythm of regular updates that works, creatively and logistically. Also, I've realised that with the increasing volume of feckless behaviour one encounters in the news and on the internets these days, my immediate response tends to plateau as rage-filled argy-bargy, and I often lack the patience or composure to rationally unravel or reveal the fecklessness as such. Mostly I just want to thwap people on the back of their heads and yell, "Seriously?!"

(Yes, I watch Grey's Anatomy.)

#Shadow cast by The Ultimate Mudfox, an #artwork by Choe U-Ram, at the @singaporeartmuseum || #Singapore #art #Koreanart

Other things people often say to me, if I haven't seen them in a while:
  • "Hey, you're back in Singapore!" (Yes, I've been back since December.) 
  • "What are you working on now?" (Revamp of the Memories at Old Ford Factory museum for the National Archives of Singapore; later this year, some editing for the Singapore Biennale; some miscellaneous writing and editing in between all that.) 
  • "How's your novel going?" (Haven't had the time to work on it since my paid work [see previous answer] took off in March; I'll probably come back to it towards the end of year; yes, I really, really want to write it, but I also need to pay my mortgage and my bills.)
I find it difficult to work on a novel when I can't set aside a big block of time for it. That said, these few months, I've been beavering away on some essays and short stories. The first to go to print was the essay, "The sounds of nature", for the Straits Times. I'll update again when the others appear.

Yes! I'll update again when they appear. That's one way to blog a little more frequently.

Just talking about wanting to blog more makes me feel old-school and distant from the Snapchat generation.



The Dakota Project

Over the weekend, I decided that I'm going to refer to my new novel as the Dakota Project. That's not going to be the title of the novel – definitely not – but it'll do as shorthand so that when I need to, I can refer specifically to what I'm working on.

Dakota is the name of the protagonist, of that I'm absolutely certain; I'm still working on almost everything else. The thing about working on a novel is that a lot of time is spent thinking and researching and sketching and planning and then thinking some more --- not writing per se, but essential steps without which the very first stabs at writing would not happen. So when people ask me what I'm doing, I feel like a fraud to say that I'm writing, because I'm not, not yet, for this novel. But I am working on it. So from now on I'm going to say I'm working on the Dakota Project.

My esteemed friend and fellow author, Jeremy Tiang, said in a recent interview:
I’m working on a novel of my own, but I don’t want to say what it’s about. I hate talking about my work until it’s done. Sometimes not even then.
Not even then, people.

So yeah: the Dakota Project.



Walking the Rail Corridor

One piece of Singapore news that broke towards the end of my US sojourn was that the Urban Redevelopment Authority had announced a concept plan to refurbish the Rail Corridor, the 24-km former Keretapi Tanah Melayu (KTM) railway line that runs from Tanjong Pagar in the south, whips west towards Alexandra and Holland, and finally zips up north to Woodlands. My immediate reaction to the news was: Damn! I better go walk the line before all the "improvements" ruin it.

After making plans with a friend, I dug up my copy of the Nature Society and Singapore Heritage Society's Green Rail Corridor guide map, and tried to pull together some additional online information. Maybe my Google-fu isn't what it used to be, but I couldn't find any webpages that would give me the nuts and bolts of exactly how one could access the former railway line from the southern end (since its former terminus, Tanjong Pagar Railway Station, is closed) or how long walking the whole line would take.

So here are my notes from Thursday's walk. You can take me away from travel writing, but you can't take the travel writer impulse out of me.

10 am start

1. The start of the line at the southern end (Tanjong Pagar/Silat Walk)

Although the abovementioned Green Rail Corridor guide map was printed only last year and is an excellent resource, the rapidity with which things change in Singapore means that it's already out of date in at least one respect: the southern access point to the former railway line. The map states that there is an entry point "behind block 30" at Silat Walk. Alas, block 30 has been demolished. Look for block 23 instead and follow the slope down to the Rail Corridor (pictured above, looking north).

If you really want to be pedantic about it and walk the full distance of the former railway line, then this is where you go left (south) towards a hut and the Tanjong Pagar Railway Station in the distance, and start your walk there. I didn't bother.

2. Silat Walk to Masjid Hang Jebat (Portsdown area)

This stretch takes about 45 minutes. It can be frightfully noisy because you're walking right beside the Ayer Rajah Expressway, but generally it's quite green and not very muddy, and if you listen carefully, you'll still hear birdsong and insect chorus. You have to go under several flyovers, some with graffiti (Singapore has such adorable graffiti), and you can wave at the vehicles speeding by and console yourself that at least you're not stuck having to go to the CBD.


On your right will be the light industrial buildings of Bukit Merah and Alexandra. Much nicer to look at the trees. At Masjid Hang Jebat, there are vending machines where you can get a cold drink.

3. Masjid Hang Jebat (Portsdown area) to Bukit Timah Railway Station

This stretch takes about 1 hour 15 minutes. The railway line runs beside the old HDB housing estate at Commonwealth Drive and Tanglin Halt. Tanglin Halt Market in block 48A is a good place to stop for a bite without having to venture too far off. Alternatively, you can pop out a bit farther along at Ghim Moh.

If you're a former Raffles Junior College/Dunman High/Henry Park/Eunoia Junior College student ("Eunoia" – heh heh), you might get a kick out of seeing your former Mt Sinai school campus from this side of the tracks. I was both a student and a teacher at that campus, and the big shock to me on Thursday was that a number of the HDB flats west of Ghim Moh Road have been demolished, and some bulldozers were working on the former container blocks of the Mt Sinai campus (near what used to be the back gate to Ghim Moh).

About an hour from Masjid Hang Jebat, in the vicinity of Old Holland Road, you'll run into a construction site.

Interrupted by construction

Not kidding. You can keep going straight, more or less, and the route will skirt what looks like a giant drainage project that involves gouging a large section out of the ground. Then you pick up the old railway line again.

The Old Holland Road bit is really lush and beautiful; the construction, not so much. This entire stretch (from Portsdown onwards) also has some muddy sections because it's one of the better tree-shaded sections. I wouldn't want to be slip-sliding around here after a downpour, unless I was wearing Phua Chu Kang-style big yellow construction work boots.

Another 20 minutes from the Old Holland Road area construction area will bring you to the conserved Bukit Timah Railway Station.

4. Bukit Timah Railway Station to Rail Mall

Bukit Timah, past and present

This section takes about 45 minutes, assuming you don't dilly-dally at the over-photographed Bukit Timah Railway Station (above) and Bukit Timah Railway Bridge. It's a pretty hot stretch. There's a lot of concrete in the railway station area, and then of course the railway bridge is made out of black metal.

There are a few more bridges farther up, over Hindhede Road and beyond as the line edges around Bukit Timah Nature Reserve. Some are a little dilapidated and rusty, and more charming, in my opinion. We saw signs of NEA work going on here, like workmen on bicycles and a blue tent planted in the middle of the Rail Corridor (understandably, as shade for the workers, but it did look very odd).

If, like us, you're heading north along the Rail Corridor, the Rail Mall at the end of this stretch is a great place to stop for a break because you can console yourself that you've completed more than half the distance (woo!) and also stock up on water or other supplies at Cold Storage.

5. Rail Mall to Junction 10

Very Singaporean, I know, to use the names of shopping malls to demarcate this section, and this bit takes only about half an hour to walk. But the reason I'm hiving it off as a discrete section is that it's the part that's extremely exposed (no shade!) and runs parallel to Upper Bukit Timah Road, and as you're walking along on a hot day, you feel like you must be the only crazy people to do so because anyone else would take the bus up the road or at least stick to the shop-houses to get some shade.

The shop-houses, viewed at a distance to the right, are charming. It's old Singapore, a little bit of which was described in Kelvin Tong's short film Grandma Positioning System (in the anthology film 7 Letters), and they're still largely functioning as shop-houses with working-class businesses, not hipster coffee joints and atas bicycle shops. One of my friends swears by the food at Karu's Indian Banana Leaf Restaurant at 808 Upper Bukit Timah Road.

At Gombak, to the left is the Ministry of Defence and its ziggurat-like concrete structure. I have no idea what that structure is for (ammo dump, my friend guessed) and naturally I can't find a photograph of it online, even though it's pretty damn visible from the road and the Rail Corridor.

6. Junction 10 to Sungei Kadut

This takes another half an hour. You have to make a diversion at Junction 10 (at the intersection of Choa Chu Kang and Woodlands Roads) because while the former railway line ploughs straight north, the authorities have removed the bridge that crosses a huge longkang (drain) just north of Choa Chu Kang Road. So your best bet is to walk behind Junction 10, cross the longkang, go past the construction site (sigh) beside the mall, then cut through the car park for heavy vehicles at Senja Way to find your way back to the Rail Corridor.

Bright side: once you're back on the corridor, it's pretty lush and green.
Down side: about 20 minutes after Junction 10, you'll hit another construction site right beside the Rail Corridor.

This is also the stretch that runs parallel to the Pang Sua Park Connector (to your left, across the longkang)(forgive me, I cannot type "Pang Sua" without giggling because of the word "pang", yes, I'm a five-year-old at heart). Some people like to admire the HDB flats to the left; I was too busy trudging on that day.

7. Sungei Kadut to Mandai River

Greenery at last

This takes one hour. It's very green in parts and potentially quiet (if you ignore the heavy vehicles along Sungei Kadut Avenue, which you have to scamper across, and the traffic noise along Woodlands Road to your right). It also has some charming little dilapidated spots, like the former KTM huts (now marked "State property" and "Reserved for future development") and a concrete bridge close to the Kranji Road end that the Rail Corridor runs under. The latter is wonderfully overgrown; I haven't been able to identify it yet.

There's another construction site at the junction of Mandai Road and Woodlands Road – it looks like they're doing something that might affect the Sungei Kadut waterway. And finally the green idyll ends where the Rail Corridor spits you out at Kranji Road: there's a heritage marker and, surprise, surprise, a massive construction site. You have to skirt the construction area, pray for a break in the traffic so that you can cross Kranji Road, and pick up the Rail Corridor behind Kranji Water Reclamation Plant and Kranji Lodge (a dormitory for migrant workers). This short stretch is pretty uninteresting.

Behind Kranji Lodge, the Rail Corridor ends at Mandai River.

End of the line

8. Mandai River to Woodlands Centre

If you go to the right of the fence (pictured above), you'll come to a brightly painted bridge that crosses the small river. After the bridge, if you want to leave, go right and follow Woodlands Road towards Woodlands Avenue 3, where Kranji MRT station is.

Or if like us, you want to find your way back to the former railway line, you follow the footpath to the left, which brings you to a car park beside Woodlands Road. Just up the road on your left is an Esso petrol station (handy for for a drink stop).

Go behind the petrol station. Here it's no longer the the Rail Corridor, since the government doesn't really want you mucking along this stretch so close to the actual Woodlands Railway Station and the Causeway. But you can still follow the former railway line by wandering northeast over weed-covered empty land parallel to the stern metal fences and regularly-planted "State land" signs that warn against trespassing.

State land

Where the mimosa can grow tall

Unlike the Rail Corridor, where the grass is obviously cut on a regular basis, here there are weeds of different heights and sprawl all over the place. Push on, push on northeast, keeping the fence to your left, and eventually you reach the real end where, once more, true to the spirit of post-independent PAP Singapore, a construction site bars your way.

Truly, the end of the line

At this point, on your right, you have a great view of heavy vehicles lining up along Woodlands Road to cross the Causeway to Malaysia. Follow Woodlands Road for another ten minutes and you'll be at Woodlands Centre. From there it's about a 15- to 20-minute walk to Marsiling MRT station, depending on how tired you are by now.

Total time taken: 3 hours (Silat Walk to Rail Mall), 2 hours (Rail Mall to Mandai River), ½ hour (Mandai River to the start of Woodlands Crossing)
Total number of construction sites encountered: 5 (including the Woodlands one)
Total number of mosquito bites: 1 (in the southern stretch when I wearing insect repellent), 1 (in the northern stretch when I hadn't reapplied the repellent)
Total amount of water drunk: 1½ litres during the walk, 2 cans of Coke during lunch
Total number of toilet breaks: 1, during lunch
Average walking speed: 5 km/h and we didn't take any extended breaks except for lunch (I'm moderately fit; my friend has longer legs, is much fitter and recently did a multi-day desert trek in the Middle East).
Good guide maps: The abovementioned Nature Society and Singapore Heritage Society's Green Rail Corridor guide map. Users of Foursquare/Swarm should add this tip-top list of Rail Corridor waypoints, created by one of my friends (this is the sort of thing that Foursquare/Swarm can really be good for, in terms of wayfinding and travel). Don't bother with the outdated Urban Redevelopment Authority's map, unless you're interested only in the Bukit Timah Railway Station to Rail Mall section of the corridor.
I have a few more pictures and some commentary in my Flickr album.

If you like walking in a (fairly) straight line and and on (fairly) level ground, and don't mind doing it in tropical heat, this is for you. Be prepared to sweat like crazy, bring a hat/umbrella and sunblock, and lots of water. I can't speak to the flora and fauna, because I'm crap at recognising anything, but there seems to be healthy insect and bird chatter most of the way, as well as the odd rustle in the undergrowth. Reptile-wise, we saw only one monitor lizard.

It was certainly nice to see some of Singapore from "this" side of the railway tracks, and I'm glad I walked it before the government gives it the inevitable makeover. I totally understand why they're park-ifying it: it's not going to become a super-popular "destination" with muddy tracks, unmarked access points and no street lights. I wouldn't walk there at night, and by day, I'm not sure that I would do it alone (except for the well-trafficked stretches near HDB estates).

On the other hand, the new concept plan calls for 122 access points (that averages out to one every 200 metres!), with structures added for rock climbing, urban farming, exercise and "community spaces". Instead of letting people explore the place intuitively and discover for themselves what they find interesting about it, the objective of the concept plan (and much of government thinking about urban planning these days, it seems) is about bombarding people with lots of stuff to do and be entertained, so that they'll have a reason to go there even if they're not at all interested in long walks, railway history or overgrown secondary tropical rainforest.

In other words, the concept plan caters to the idea of an urban population that needs to be entertained and coddled, rather than the philosophy of providing basic necessities like street lights, regular grass-cutting and perhaps a few paved sections, and signs for the nearest shelter (in the event of emergencies or inclement weather) – and leaving people to find their own fun.

Oh Singapore.

Mashable has reported (albeit a tad dramatically) that the government's plans won't result in Singapore's version of the High Line, which is fine, because I think the High Line is a little too chi-chi and spruced-up. But it works well as a pedestrian connector between Gansevoort Street and 34th Street, and it works well in a city where people walk a lot anyway. Ditto the Promenade Plantée in Paris, which I think has found a sweet spot that between the functional (pedestrian flow) and the aesthetic (tasteful landscaping, but not too much).

In Singapore, the weather makes it difficult for the Rail Corridor to serve as a pedestrian connector, unless the authorities allow shade-giving trees to grow unfettered around it. But like its foreign precedents, it would be a good alternative to walking along the main road, and it would be a way of seeing beyond roads. The nicest stretches of the Rail Corridor today are, unsurprisingly, the areas where it traverses through neighbourhoods along a route that a car couldn't follow: from Portsdown Road up to Old Holland Road area and then Bukit Timah Railway Station, and later from Sungei Kadut up to Kranji. It's a reminder that there can be meaningful connections between urban spaces other than roads, and yes, it's ironic that it's the remnants of a railway – that fixture of industrial modernity – that remind us of this.

I don't think the Urban Redevelopment Authority has announced when they'll be closing parts of the Rail Corridor in order to start the makeover. If you're interested in walking the full stretch, though, I'd say get to it now.

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