It’s always important to get outside. We know this, and it seems to be increasingly part of collective awareness because there are currently so many restrictions on movement. I am so, so grateful that we’re still able to get out and about in Singapore and I am taking advantage of this simple freedom as much as possible.
Over the weekend, my social cohort and I met early in the morning to take the MRT all the way to Punggol, the northernmost terminus of the North-East Line. From there, we caught the 84 bus to Punggol Waterway Park, is exactly what it sounds like. We were greeted by a turtle pond!
We walked along the path next to the water until we reached the bridge to Coney Island, also known as Pulau (“island” in Bahasa Melayu) Serangoon. Click here to read about the history of the island, which opened to the public in 2015 after ownership changed hands repeatedly beginning around the 1930s.
While much of Singapore looks like this . . .
. . . Coney Island felt like a whole world away.
We heard birds that we don’t hear in the city and saw different flowers, which I really enjoyed.
There were neat mushrooms, too!
It was great to smell the sand and the sea and the sand felt different here than it does in other parts of Singapore.
We walked the length of the island and then turned back to head back to Punggol Waterway Park. It was very hot and we were glad we’d ventured out in the morning. Except for a toilet, there are no amenities on Coney Island so if you’re planning to spend some time there, make sure you rent bicycles before crossing the bridge and stock up on snacks! There’s plenty to eat and drink along the promenade leading to the bridge but nothing but trees and beach once you’re on the island. Trees, beach, and groups of old men fishing.
Since we’re surrounded by glittering skyscrapers, it’s easy to lose sight of what Singapore used to be. And it’s the juxtaposition of the two landscapes that I love.
I met up with a former student last week and it was a delightful, gratifying, and energising experience. It is a real pleasure to see how much a young person has grown in a very short amount of time and to have conversation about, as a friend would say, life and the universe.
I’ll paraphrase and modify here, but we talked about what it means to be grounded and about believing in something to get through a difficult time. Some people rely on faith in a religion or religious figure and for the rest of us, well, there must be something, right?
I know what has carried me through times of difficulty in the past and I know there will be more of those times. After all, that’s living. In many ways, overcoming a difficult time has come down to perspective. Where am I really in the grand scheme of things? What can I cling to that will remain constant no matter what else is happening? What images need to be in my head while I concentrate on my breathing until my heart rate slows and my mind ceases racing?
There are several things that I find helpful and this post will share these. Perhaps you will find them helpful, too.
One thing that I know is that the sun will set tonight and rise tomorrow. It might be cloudy and I might not be able to watch the sun disappear and reappear along the horizon but I know it’s happening. I know that today will end and tomorrow will come. Even if I’m dreading tomorrow, I know that, like today, it will begin and then it will end and I will walk tomorrow like I walked today.
Deliberately cultivating a certain attitude matters a lot here, too. I have spent the last seven or eight years writing down three things I’m grateful for every single day. There have been extended periods when this lists consists of a roof over my head, a hot shower, and a full stomach, but it helps to remind myself that I do have these things. I have something rather than nothing. And I have been lucky enough that those things are also constants for tomorrow. Regardless of what it is, the perspective of having something to be grateful for has calmed my mind.
Another image that helps me find my footing when the world is spinning more quickly than I can grasp it is to look at the trees. Really look, look carefully and silently and deliberately. Mentally trace the patterns on the bark, the shapes of the branches, the growth of leaves and flowers. Trees are strong and tall and solid and they withstand all sorts of weather conditions and human activity. The trees, too, will be here tomorrow and through the next storm and the next one. Touch the trees if you can. They hold a special sort of warmth.
I’m not a religious person but I think there’s an element of spirituality here, an understanding that I am part of a wider universe that spins and moves. The best I can do is spin and move with it rather than remaining rigid and uncompromising. Complaining and waiting have a time and a place but they don’t always get us very far. As my pen holder mug proclaims:
Peace. It does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble or hard work. It means to be in the midst of those things and still be calm in your heart. – Unknown
Peace can be hard to find, there’s no doubt about that. Peace can also be fleeting. It can engulf in one moment and then completely desert in the next. But the important thing is being able to find it again, to develop those moments when peace is easy and fluid. This also means you need to look for it, actively seek it out, especially when everything is all right. Watch the sun. Write down a few things. Look at the trees. When all is well, the world has given you time to find who you are and ground yourself in the present. Doing so eases the transition to whatever world we awake in tomorrow.
After four days in three cities in Austria, a beautiful drive through mountains, rolling hills, wind, sunshine, and blue skies led the way to Slovenia. After two nights in Slovenia, I headed into Italy just because “Let’s drive to Italy today” seemed like a fun thing to do. One more night in Slovenia completed this part of the road trip.
I cannot say enough good things about Slovenia. And I almost don’t want to say anything at all because part of the magic of Slovenia is that it was quiet, though this might also be because I was there in the winter. But anyway, there are a million good things to say about Slovenia. Go see for yourself!
For my first night in Slovenia I stayed in Lesce, a small town in the hills that was close to everywhere I wanted to be but away from the much more popular area of Bled. The quiet, calm solitude was startling (even after a night at a farmhouse in Leoben) and contributed to quiet and calm in my mind, too.
However, I’d heard of Lake Bled in the past and knew I wanted to see it. There’s a castle and a church at the lake and while I didn’t venture up, I know you can actually visit. Instead, I opted for the 6km walk around the lake, which began with afternoon sun . . .
. . . went through a Christmas market celebrating its final night . . .
. . . and ended in the evening’s gathering darkness, though not without a cup of hot wine along the way.
Walking back from dinner that night along a silent street, I noticed the stars. The sky was dark and the stars were bright and the air was cold and I stood outside and just looked. We don’t see often stars in Singapore and when we do, they don’t look like Slovenian stars.
The world of that night was very different to the world of the morning waking up on a farm in Austria.
The next morning, giggling at how I planned to spend my thirtieth birthday playing outside, I drove past Lake Bled to Lake Bohinj. There was snow on the ground as the road descended into another glacial valley and I actually got out of the car to look at the world. It was the magical winter fairytale of childhood that I haven’t seen in a very long time.
Before finding a parking spot at Lake Bohinj that turned out to be illegal, I stopped to visit Slap Savica, the Savica Waterfall. The walk up itself was nice and easy and it was beautiful to look out at the Julian Alps while listening to the rushing water and feeling the cold.
A picnic lunch on a bench in the sun was in order before a walk around Lake Bohinj. Later that day, I’d pay my parking ticket (oops) at the post office. The light on the lake was stunning, as were the mountains surrounding it.
I walked through a sub-alpine meadow and looked down at the lake and up to the mountains and felt the cold and the wind and the air.
There were plants and trees and runoff from the snow creating little rivers and puddles.
Once the sun disappeared behind the ridge and then grew smaller and smaller, it was time to go. It gets bitterly cold at night in January in Slovenia.
The drive to Bohinjska Cesnjica where I spent the night went through narrow twisting roads and tiny towns containing wood and stone guesthouses and farms. Late that night with the weather well below freezing, I walked outside to look at stars. How had I gotten here? How did any of us get here?
The next day taught me that I never again want to have a car in an Italian city. I decided to go to Trieste rather than Croatia or Hungary, both of which are relatively nearby, based on the fact that Italy is in the eurozone. I drove through the sunshine and the Alps, which was lovely, and then into a busy city with small cars and limited parking, which was far less lovely. My tip for parking a car in Trieste: Spend a few euro and park in the spacious and huge parking lot at the port. It was easy to find once I knew it existed and the parking machines take coins, notes, and cards.
At least at that time of year, it appeared that all shops and many other establishments closed in the afternoon from 1 or 1:30 until 4 or 4:30, and I arrived close to 1. I had every intention of going back in the evening when shops would be open until 7 or 7:30, but the guesthouse where I spent the night was up a ridiculously narrow, winding road on a hill about 8km outside of town. There was no way I was going down (or up) that road in the dark.
One thing that struck me about Trieste is that this city is old. The buildings were beautiful but they had been standing for a long, long time.
It was also really neat to see a stadium from Roman times next to a car park and an apartment block. I very much love that about Europe.
I also really loved the greengrocer set up in the middle of a piazza.
And of course, there were grand piazze that are probably much busier in the summer.
The history of Trieste’s Jewish community dates back about 800 years and I walked to the synagogue . . .
. . . and through the old Jewish ghetto that was full of (unfortunately closed) quirky shops selling antiquities and used books.
All things considered, a wander through parts of Trieste was a perfectly acceptable way to spend an afternoon before settling into the little guesthouse on the hill. Looking down on Trieste both at night and in the morning was really cool.
After a day away, I decided I missed Slovenia. In the morning, I drove to Maribor, Slovenia’s second-largest city. It was a bright and sunny day and not too cold yet, which was perfect weather for a walk. I looked at a map and found Jezero (Lake) Komarnik, which has marked running and hiking trails.
Remaining aware of the sun and the time of day, I chose the shorter of the two paths and found myself first walking along a dike at the edge of a field . . .
. . . and then crunching leaves underfoot in a forest.
There were nature signs posted along the route with information about plants, animals, and ecosystems and even though I didn’t understand any of it, I really enjoyed that it was there. The way a community treats the environment tells a lot about what that community is and what it stands for.
Later in the afternoon I walked through Maribor City Park, which is exactly what it sounds like. A large park in the middle of a city with ponds, old trees, a bandstand, and a nature centre.
On the drive to the park, I spotted signs for Pyramid Hill. As the sun was beginning to set, I followed the walking trail up the hill . . .
. . . through the vineyard . . .
. . . and past the recent excavations of a twelfth century castle.
Signs along the way, including some in English, explained Pyramid Hill and Maribor City Park and it was nice to get a sense of where I was. There are longer walking trails along the back of Pyramid Hill but it was far too late in the afternoon for those.
Once it was dark, I headed into the old town to find the town square, have some wine, and feel European. It grew very cold as night came in but the narrow cobblestones felt good under my feet and I walked until the need to actually feel my toes became urgent.
It had been a wonderful few days and I knew I’d miss Slovenia even before it was time to leave. I spent the last evening curled up reading a novel and researching international schools. This had been a very special adventure and it left me excited for the next day’s journey to Bratislava.
Photos, travels, musings, and ideas on education by someone trying to make the world a better and more peaceful place