Singapore's Chinese & Japanese Gardens

This weekend we were looking for something to do with the kids to burn off their energy when we hit on the idea of going to the Chinese and Japanese Gardens. One of the great advantages (for us) of moving to Singapore is that we get to do so many things as a family.


Previously hubby commuted five hours per day and was wiped out at the end of the week from getting up at 5.15 am and not returning until 7.30-8 pm every night. Here however, although he returns home in the evenings at about 7.30 pm, he gets to hang around for breakfast and puts the kids on the school bus each morning. And despite working on Saturday until about 1.30pm, he is not worn out by travelling. His half hour commute is considered very long by the locals but it’s not a problem for him, plus he has a nice drive along tree-lined roads - parts of which are bordering on jungle – and instead of grumpy commuters packed into trains gets to see monkeys sitting on the roadside each day.




Another advantage is that we are living on a very small island – just 700 square km – which is jam-packed with things to do. The government’s family-friendly policies ensure that there are plenty of free or cheap attractions and they really make the most of the limited open space available.
Anyway, I packed a quick picnic lunch, we filled our water bottles and we headed off to the Gardens.
These are, as the name suggests, two large ornate gardens/parks side by side, one Chinese and the other – you guessed it – Japanese. Covering 13 hectares, they are surrounded by a man-made lake and connected by ornate bridges. Holger visited here with his Dad years ago so it was a bit of a sentimental journey for him.
The gardens are lovely, each dominated by a tall pagoda with a spiral staircase of exactly the right dimensions to wear out small children! It was really hot on Sunday – the sort of humid heat so intense that even your eyeballs sweat – and we were all dripping perspiration by the time we reached the top. (Having complained about the cold in Holland for the past 11 years I never, ever complain about the heat here, at least not within hubby’s hearing range. Whenever he mentions how hot it is, I say “it could be worse – it could be snowing”).



Of course if you are under seven years old the only logical thing to do once you reach the top of a tower is to run straight down again, so we then explored the bonsai and statue gardens. There is a live turtle museum with dozens of different types, including a rather bizarre two-headed six-legged one called Double Happiness which apparently is one of the few in the world to have survived. At least it’s never lonely I guess.
Finally there was a pond filled with thousands of koi carp. For a dollar you could buy packets of food to feed them and create the most incredible feeding frenzy you’ve ever seen. A massive churning ball of flapping splashing fish would appear wherever the food landed. Even Carl was impressed, for once speechless for a few seconds are he’d chucked the first handful of food in. (Being a McIntyre male Carl is doomed to be an endless chatterer, as anyone who has met my Dad will know! Recently Dad’s niece got married in Australia and one of the speeches referred to how it was widely known that her father (my uncle) could even speak underwater!)





Finally, having finished our food and drained our drinks it was time to get our pink sweaty faces back in the car and head home. Half an hour after leaving the Gardens a hush fell over Balmoral Crescent once more as we all slept off our exertions. Another successful Sunday outing.