A Stroll It Was Not

Last weekend, I took part in the "inaugural" Heritage Walk along with three other friends. I was really dissatisfied with the organising commitee at first. When we got to our flag-off point, this bossy, high-handed man was barking orders at us through a loud-hailer. Hell, we paid money to take part in this event! Couldn't you have more manners? (At one point, the young lady behind us hissed "Please do not touch me, sorry" at him, after he'd laid his hand on her shoulder for what I noticed to be the second time.) And please, for goodness' sake hire someone who has a better grasp of language. One such solecism was "Thank you all for coming and making this event a success!" at the flag-off. Unless he thought that people attending the event in itself warranted the label "success" to be slapped on (and what would that say about Singapore, I wonder?) Too bad at that time I was still too polite to be fueled to take a surreptitious photo of him. What, it's not that easy, 'kay? I don't want to be accused of being rude and unmindful of people's privacy. Although of course, he being the "MC" for the day, should be prepared for people snapping shots of him if they so desire. Well, ok, I was a little lazy to take my camera out of my bag. But there were also other things pre-occupying me.

... Oh gosh why did I go on a long rant on a topic that's this minute? I beg your pardon.

But, speaking of cameras, the one I usually use was on loan, so I had to resort to an "old" Olympus 3.0 megapixel cam. It was a hassle to use, but I am quite happy with the results. The resolution's nice and sharp. Yes, okay, I realise I'm going off on a tangent. Pictures, everyone! Of my escapade (of the places and spaces) around the Esplanade.

We were made to wear these fashion-and-style-forsaken tees under pain of disqualification; this is me (and my pretty boy), trying desperately to look hip and cool against all odds. (There was no mirror nearby! The changing rooms provided were basically void patches of grass boarded off to provide some shield from the scrutiny of human eyes! Oh, the tragedy!) And all we have to show for it is some mozzie bites and skin a few shades darker. Nah, don't listen to the whiny girl. I had more fun than I'm willing to admit. It was, after all, a PAP-commissioned affair. Oy, but don't get me wrong, I'm a patriotic lass.

See? Me, standing at the very spot re-elected President (by the people, no less! Go democracy, go!) Nathan stood on the day our country celebrated the day we became a sovereign nation. *sniff*

Unlike these birds though. (Those little speckles of black above our national flag.) Shame on them! Fancy taking advantage of the fact that we were standing under the flag, admiring its grandeur, to rain birdie guano on us. Well, we were waiting to get into the tower as well, of course... Oh, this is a watch tower, by the way, belongs to the Central Fire Station, which was around in the days of no-building-taller-than-5-storeys-high. So firemen used to sit at the top to be on the lookout for fires coming from the different ethnic enclaves: Chinatown, Little India, and Geylang Serai/The Malay Village. (I'm not sure about this last one, though. Where did malays live in the past? Anybody?)

But enough on reds and whites. Guess who got spotted by the Lian He Wan Bao reporter???

Upon taking this photo, The Boyfriend was waylaid by a young Chinese-national from the daily because, apparently, he seemed to be enjoying himself lots. The look on his face when the reporter and her camera-touting photog approached him? Priceless. I'd never seen him look quite that degree of "petrified" before. But he was eventually coaxed, hoaxed and buttered up into uttering some soundbites for the two ladies to take back to their desks. (The next day, his brother found his headshot in the paper's write-up. I haven't seen it yet, so I don't know what, if any, of his words were reproduced (well, modified, rather) in writing.

We saw them again while taking this photo:

I'm sorry, it's this photo:

Okay, this must be the one:

(Hey, I did say the camera was a little lacking in the user-friendly department, didn't I?):

Indeed, my friend had no idea she was taking so many off-focused, off-centered shots. I was hanging on for dear life (3 minutes), getting off to check on the decidedly uncooperative camera (1 minute), and perspiring very un-glamly throughout (the duration of the whole process) (and then some).

Speaking of unglam, I look slightly deranged in this shot:

But I like how it turned out otherwise. Duh, that's why it's here, right? Somewhere down the line I tried to grow a beard. To the displeasure of the man still attached to it.

Actually, the check-points we were required to stop at were manned by volunteers who, judging from their faces, were from secondary schools, so I suppose this particular Supreme Court judge is the youngest Singapore has ever had.

As for this shot below? As you can see, it was getting dark, and we hadn't had a bite to eat since the walk had began, so naturally, when we saw these two men enjoying a meal, we couldn't keep our hands off of them. But alas, that guy's too frigid for even my seduction powers. And even though he out-propped the other guy, The Boyfriend didn't manage to frustrate the bowl out of his hands. Oh well.

When we ended our walk at... the riverside promenade, was it? - That bit of the river in front of the UOB buildings - we figured it was easier to get our dinner the normal way - by buying it. So we decided to pop by MacD's. Seemed like lots of other people had the same idea, though.

As a wrap-up to the whole event, we were treated to a mini-display of fireworks (but still freaking expensive, I'm sure). I couldn't get a decent photo of them, so, dear readers, you'll have to settle for this shot of the Fullerton.