Movin' On Up

I'll start with the Ladies with L's. The relocation assistant we first met on our February visit to Singapore was named Liz. The real estate agent we first had then was named Lilian. When we moved here, we wanted to start looking for an apartment right away and Lilian - luckily - was not available those first days. I say luckily since she was a key player in the mishandling of the first offer we made and lost. So we were assigned a second agent, Leanne. Our relocation coordinator overseeing the whole process was named Lauren. And the person who surveyed the apartment when we finally moved in was named Liz. At first I couldn't understand why Paul confused the names of everyone we were dealing with, and eventually I realized that we were dealing with five women whose names started with L, two named Liz. (He managed to keep my name straight through most of it.)

Fortunately, Leanne turned out to be a more effective agent than Lilian and I requested that we stick with her. We determined some facts from our first visit: we wanted to be centrally located, near transportation; we wanted to see more units in the building we originally chose and missed out on, River Place; we also wanted to see one other particular building that Lilian had mentioned but didn't show us, The Icon. It was in an area we were interested in, but she had said it was more than our budget (when does that stop real estate agents from showing people places?) When I inquired about it while she was driving us around, she said it was a "yuppie" building with many young couples without children, as if this was a description that we'd find unappealing. I remember looking between Paul and me in the car to see if there were some kids we had that I didn't know about and wondering how this Lilian could be successful in real estate.

Anyhow, once Leanne was assigned as our agent, we made the above requests, so on the first day, I saw exactly what was requested and nothing more. As it turned out, there were no units available in River Place so all I saw were three units in The Icon. It wasn't Leann's fault; that's what Lauren told her I wanted. Of course there was a confused conversation when I asked what else I could see the next day but it was eventually clarified that I wanted those places included in the viewing list, not that I wanted to see those places exclusively. Exasperating.

One of the three units I saw in The Icon stood out as a strong contender. I saw several more places the next day, but we also scheduled a revisit of The Icon with Paul. He agreed it was a winner and we moved quickly this time, letting go the hope of River Place. The owner lives abroad so we dealt with his agent. It seemed that in the negotiations, if you can call them such, the landlord demanded more than we did and unless we wanted to search for a third time, we had to give in to the ridiculous little demands. The stand-out one was that we would not put any nails into the walls because he didn't want to have to repaint when we move out. Just use 3M picture hangers, we were told. I mention this detail because it leads to minor disaster and heartbreak which will be shared in a separate post.

One demand we did submit was honored, probably because it's a worthwhile investment on the owner's part. When I first saw the place I liked everything about it except one glaring, clear fact: the glaring, clear glass walls enclosing the master bathroom. I can't imagine why anyone would think this is an architectural option. The bathroom is connected to the master bedroom and shares a wall with the wardrobe. All the walls of the wardrobe and the main wall of the bathroom are all clear glass. I told Leanne that Paul and I are close, but not that close. Amused, she said the glass could easily be covered with an opaque film. It was done before we moved in. -We occasionally get mail addressed to the former occupants, a Norwegian couple. Apparently the Norwegians live in a more open society.

Our new home... we moved in on Monday, April 5, three weeks after arriving. It's a fairly new building, about 2-3 years old. We're on the 38th floor out of something like 45. We have a water view, which translates to looking out onto thousands of shipping containers. There is a sprawling pool on the 7th floor and it's completely usable, unlike the pool in J Residence with its odd layout with room for only eight people to sit and the shower you had to walk through on your way in and out. It's also free unlike the pool at J Residence. When we started apartment hunting and asked if there were charges to use the pool, I think the agent thought the question a little crazy. (The majority of places I viewed had big, inviting pools. It seems more like a priority here than an impractical addition like the one we had in Hong Kong, probably because it's hot all year.)  There is also a whole floor, the 31st, with gardens and terraces and seating areas. We don't have our own balcony this time, so this is an attractive feature.

Our unit is two bedrooms, still considered small by many standards, but compared to our place in Hong Kong, it's huge. There is a closet in each bedroom. There's also a big storage room they call a bomb shelter here. I can't figure out if it's actually a bomb shelter, and if it is, what does the Singapore government know that I don't? Or it could be maid's quarters which are typically disturbingly small. Or it's just a storage room with a creative name; it does have a steel door though. Two bathrooms (one with real walls). A real kitchen! It has a full size refrigerator, an oven, a washer AND a drier! It's a full size Bosch drier that works better than my old drier back in Fords. Did I mention there's an oven? And a gas stove burner? The kitchen is separate yet still very open to the living room. I really like it. Oh, the best part - there's a trash chute! I honestly grinned and giggled the first time I threw a bag down and listened to it fall 38 stories, the sound fading with each passing floor as if a cartoon coyote fell off a cliff.

The Icon is located at the edge of Chinatown, steps away from an MRT (train) station. It's two stops/about 20 minutes to work for Paul. I have a basic supermarket in walking distance, though as in Hong Kong, I need to go to 2-3 stores to get all the things I want. There are shops and restaurants on the ground floor of our building including 3 sushi restaurants, 2 coffee shops, key maker, shoe repair, dry-cleaner, cake shop, wine ship, 7-11, and most recently and most appreciated, Quizno's. There are signs for an Argentinean restaurant coming soon but I'm not sure I believe it. Nearby there are mostly office buildings so the streets are busy during lunch and rush hours.

There are lots of Singapore style food stalls around, but try as I might, I can't get excited about fatty meats or mystery fish covered in sauce served with rice. There's little variation on this theme, stall after stall. There is a well-known food center a few minutes away that Anthony Bourdain supposedly visited. Maybe I'll try the popular chicken/rice dish one day, but Quizno's is right downstairs and I don't have to spit bones out of the sandwich. There is also a surprising number of Italian restaurants in the area. And a couple we've tried were actually pretty good, though we haven't found a pizza more than acceptable within walking distance yet.

There are lots of other bars and restaurants nearby, but the bars closest to us are a bit of a letdown. They're either cheesy local Karaoke bars or ones with darkened glass fronts that prevent you from seeing in, which in Asia, means you can probably pay for more than a beer inside. Soooo, we skip those. There's a really nice Irish bar that we tried once and we were the only ones in it on a Saturday night. I think because The Icon is the only high rise apartment, besides three nearby towers of more typical government housing, and it's in what is essentially a business district, Saturday nights are disappointingly quiet in the neighborhood. When I first walked around, it appeared that there was more on offer because it was hard to tell what opened when. Some places are closed on weekends; some open only for lunch; others only open for dinner. You have to walk around at different hours of the day on different days of the week to figure out what's available. Note: Quizno's is closed on Sunday.

It's more of a local area with a sizable Chinese population and businesses that cater to local tastes. It's no Wan Chai, but we like it, and part of the fun is searching for hidden gems.

Liz #1 (leaning against the bomb shelter door) and part of the kitchen seen from the living room

Appliances! Oh, there's a fold out ironing board inside that top drawer - very cool

Clearly, the master bath and wardrobe - before the opaque addition

Some of the view

Part of the pool

Here I Go Again

Guess I'll have to get around to changing the Life in Hong Kong subtitle and picture. I'll add that to the list. First things first.

So, where have you been?

It's not as if Singapore is a giant black hole that sucked me into it, almost never to be heard from again - or is it? Some days, I wonder. We've been here almost two months and I'm forgetting all the details I would have written if I had written but they're starting to come back to me, and I probably haven't written because I've been distracted by the hassles of settling in and I would just be detailing my frustrations, which would be no fun to read. With a little time (or a lot) I can laugh about those frustrations. Really, I can. Haha. Ha.

I'll stick with chronology and start from the beginning - the end of Hong Kong. After all our things were packed we stayed for three nights at the Island Shangri-La Hotel which was quite lovely. It was about a 10-minute walk from our apartment and it made me feel better not to stay too far from "home" so I could kid myself that life in HK would go on as usual. But on Sunday morning there was in fact a plane waiting.

We arrived in Singapore late in the afternoon and checked into our serviced apartment, The Ascott. We had three choices of residence and I chose this place because it was closest to Paul's office, one train stop, and also because it was very close to an apartment building we had previously seen and were still considering. Soon after arrival we walked outside to find a bite to eat and the neighborhood was desolate. Picture tumbleweeds blowing by, but it's so humid here they would be palm fronds. We ate terrible food at Harry's, a chain pub that you can't walk two blocks without running into here, simply because it was open. The area around Raffles Place and The Ascott is part of the business district so I suppose it would be like trying to find life on a Sunday evening in NYC's Financial District. I'm happy that one decision was made so early and so easily. We were no longer interested in living there.

The Ascott was a comfortable and attractive residence with a few more amenities than we had back in our temporary housing days in HK. Though one thing that seriously irked me is that we had a studio apartment. It hadn't troubled me until I became aware that one of Paul's coworkers, a single guy, had a one bedroom. Another had a two bedroom. The efforts of our team of relocation specialists shine once again. There was also a rooftop pool but there was no chance I would use it. It was a long, narrow lap pool, too deep to stand in, and the walls were clear glass. It was essentially a human aquarium. No thanks. I did sit by it on several afternoons if I had nothing else to do while waiting for housekeeping to do their thing.

There was a washer/dryer which I most certainly did use since the laundry service cost about $10 per shirt. Ha. There was also room service at exorbitant prices. Made me miss the old Peach Blossom serviced apartment days back in Hong Kong with its ridiculously cheap dinners (and laundry service). I burnt myself twice while ironing Paul's shirts. One burn on my thumb is till visible from weeks ago. Call me a housewife, but I could use help on the house part.

Within two weeks my stomach realized it was being moved around Asia again and it staged a revolt. I awoke feeling unwell on a day I was supposed to meet up with some expat gals for the first time. I hoped the nausea, dizziness and chills would ease if I lay down but the pain only intensified. I held out for a couple of hours since I'm developing a complex about how many times I've needed emergency medical care while living out here, but I finally gave in and had Paul call a doctor for me. This made me feel weak, but after the alien that lived in my gut for nearly two months last summer upon return from Borneo and the digestive misery (and hospital visits) it caused me, I decided to counter-attack quickly this time.

I took a taxi to a nearby hospital and I saw a doctor fairly quickly, although it felt like an eternity. I was not impressed by his diagnostic questions. He only asked of some symptoms and how long I'd been in Singapore, not if I ate anything suspect, or where else I've traveled or if this has ever happened before. He said it was likely food-related. His words of comfort, "Oh, this will probably happen a few times while you're here," as he wrote the prescription for antibiotics. Doctors can be disappointingly predictable. I had to ask for something for the pain, as if he couldn't see I was in any. He had me wait around for over an hour to see if it lessened. It hardly did, but my choice was to go home and deal with it or stay overnight, so I went home and continued to vomit up the bile in my empty stomach. The cramps became sharper at times but less constant and I managed a few spoonfuls of a $15 bowl of chicken broth. It took about three days and little by little I felt better. I wish I could say I ate something I knew I shouldn't have, but I'm still left guessing at what got me this time. Asia. My tour of its hospitals continues.

Fortunately, I was better by Easter so Paul and I were able to continue our tradition of the last three years: Champagne brunch buffet. It was a fine treat.

Next on General Hospital... house hunting, blind friending, Citibank-hating and some observations on Singapore. Preview: it's hot. I threw a rock at the equator today.