what if there were no pavements, no pedestrian crossing signals, no URA coupon parking, no ERP, no highways in singapore?

what if people, bicycles and cars all share the same tarred path, watching out for each other, being careful about the other?

what if houses did not have air-conditioning, no maids, no “singapore house” style architecture in a dizzying collage of full-height glass, grey granite, white walls, brushed stainless steel railings, timber louvre sunshades, zinc titanium roofs; no bb italia, no capellini, no flos, no bulthaup, no gaggenau, no infinity pools, no auto-gates, no chubb alarms, no 1.8m high walls?

what if the green landscape in singapore consists not of some narrowly-edited range of man-designed greenery; which for the public areas means low-maintenance, tropical-looking foliage and for private compounds means balinese-themed plants; but consists of natural rough and wild greenery arranged by birds, animals, human beings, the wind, the tide, and the rain?

what if there were no fancy restaurants, no themed bars, no designated outdoor dining areas, no shopping centers, no ds, no wii, no gameboys?

and what if you could sit in an open-sided wooden coffee shop next to a malay man who was the last student to graduate from the only primary school there, having his breakfast unhurriedly, who would later be driving his taxi-van on this island, but now just talking wide-eyed about his favourite part of this ever-forward-looking little modern country?

there is just such a place in singapore. you just have to take a 10-minute boat from changi fairy point next to the beach to get there.