Initially we couldn’t locate the entrance. The three of us walked along the pavement besides the undergrowth. It seemed to stretch on forever, and we thought we would not be able to find a way in. Meanwhile we kept our eyes open and admired the plants nearby.
Espying a break in the undergrowth, I told my friends to wait while I explored. I had a feeling it would lead into the Bukit Timah reserve and my haunch was right. It was quite a challenging climb. Before I could yell at my friends, the Lass and Pearl already started up the path. I helped them, pulled them up the treacherous path.
Where we came up. Tricky route to navigate.
The bridge stands sentinel over the track.
Beautiful.A spectacular sight greeted us. We stood on a hill overlooking a railway track. To our right was a bridge, and at our backs the high-rise flats across the road loomed like titans. A log lay several yards away. Beyond the bridge we could see the forest and the hill. Nature and the edifices of men stood side by side, conveying a sense of contrast and majesty. We snapped shots of ourselves, the scenery and any other thing that seized our fancy.
Soul Sisters.
White and black, beauty and the beastCrossing the bridge, the three of us reached a road. As we walked Pearl told us of the natural environments of the countries she had been to. The Lass said she liked the old Celtic world, the rich fantasy realm of dragons and faeries, knights and magicians. Quite the romantic.
The road leads to the Hill.Eventually we reached our destination. The Bukit Timah hill appeared before our eyes. Its towered over us, its slopes chiseled, and their faces the colour of apricot. Greenery stuck to the surface like algae. Below the hill, a shallow lake sat torpid. As we drew nearer we saw that a fence blocked our progress to the lake. Two men fished – I didn’t know how they got in – and looked at us with some amusement. One stared at the Lass with interest.
What's the damn fence for?
We should have been up there.To our left a flight of steps led down and we followed it, thinking it would lead us somewhere interesting. It did, in a way. We didn’t realize it was a big drain until we had gone ten yards into it. It reminded me of a real-life Dungeons and Dragons game. True, there were no goblins to kill and dragons to subdue (the only monsters were probably tiny spiders and other critters which wisely remained out of sight from the stomping and marauding giant and giantesses.) I nearly stepped on a trap: a pile of shit and a few pieces of soiled toilet paper. The Lass squealed, but avoided the trap without incident. Intrepid adventurers we were, we pressed onward. The remnants of dead branches and wisps of spider webs became our kills, as we moved quickly down the gloomy and musty passageway.
The Dungeon (sorry, can't get it to rotate clockwise)The open drain soon became a tunnel. The three of us stopped at its mouth and looked uncertainly into it. We would have to bend ourselves if we were to continue, and we were not sure where it would lead us. I volunteered to play scout. Taking hold of the railing at the side of the drain, I climbed out of the drain. I saw that a declining foot path intersected the top surface of the tunnel. Cresting the rise of the path I saw that it led out of the forest. I tried to follow the tunnel from atop but the thick undergrowth impeded me from determining where it ended.
I climbed down and told my fellow adventurers we had to climb out. They were surprised but soon snapped out of their shock and passed me their bags. I had thought to pull them up but Pearl said it would be easier if I climbed down and help.
So I did. The wall was about my companions’ height. The Lass looked at it and squealed some more. The girls ascended the steps in the drain’s passageway, hoping to find a part where the wall was shorter but the sides of the drain were uniform in height. I suggested going back the way we came but we dismissed the notion. We would emerge from the depths or die trying.
Pearl scaled the wall with little fuss. Her yoga training came in useful. The Lass tried climbing up but failed. She said her hands were too weak. We shouted encouragement to her and she tried again. It didn’t work. At our urging, she stuck the toe of her shoe into the water hole to get some purchase but her shoe was not sleek enough. I looked around for anything that might help. Something to step on perhaps. There was none. I had my hands around her waist and pushed the Lass up as she gripped the wall and climbed. Pearl tried to pull her up. The situation was desperate as it was hilarious. We three were giggling – the Lass the most - as we attempted to figure out an evacuation plan.
So I bent my knees and asked the Lass to use my thigh as a step-up. She thought she would break my leg because she was heavy. Only after I reassured her that my legs are strong from football and martial arts practice did she try – and failed. Obviously my thigh was too slim. Then I thought it would be easier if I bent down and shove while Pearl helped her peddle up. Trying to lift something up from a squatting position was just daft. It didn’t work.
I decided that desperate situations call for desperate measures. I went on all fours and asked the Lass to step on my back. She went wide-eyed and screamed that she would break my back and kill me. I was confident it would work and it did! The Lass was as light as a little faerie and with Pearl’s help she made it out. What a momentous day! She should tell her Sha Monkeys of her achievement. Surely this is Lara Croft in the making!
After that we came to a very big pipe, or rather a section of it. One of my friends said it looked like a bomb shelter but we agreed that it would be useless in a bomb raid. The Lass commented it looked like a theatre; the acoustics and all that stuff. In response, I sang falsetto and ended up coughing. I have no talent in the arts.
As we made our way out of the forest we found ourselves before some private properties. The rich people residing in the houses must hate the mosquitoes. The three of us continued to walk and reached the railway tracks. Pearl was right. There was no train running on Sundays and we enjoyed the quiet and safety of the unused tracks to take photos. We had a hell of a time balancing on the side rails, and of course, more photo-taking. In the distance the bridge where we were earlier seemed to wave at us. Bye bye bridge. We followed the road out.
By this time we were utterly dehydrated from our exertions. The sun beat down on us relentlessly and it was fortunate there were a row of shops in the vicinity. We found ourselves a small restaurant and settled ourselves in its cozy and delightfully chilly environs. I found myself trying to determine the size of each drink as I scanned through each offering on the menu. The girls deliberated over their choice of desserts. Women! I don’t understand them. They go crazy over shoes, clothing, make-up and chocolate. Still they are cute in a way because of this – excluding of course, the time when they go overboard and make their guy’s bank account collapse like Wall Street. (That is a story for another day and I’m rambling again.)
Thankfully we survived long enough for our refreshments to arrive. Pearl ordered chocolate ice cream while the Lass got herself some food. I finished my drink all too quickly (that was how thirsty I was). Not satisfied with the amount of food, we ordered a second round. The Lass was absolutely lucky when it came to ordering food. She got such a large plate of goodies that Pearl and I had to – it was a pleasure – help her finish. Pearl had earl grey tea. I had never heard of this tea before and I sniffed at it in the way a curious animal would at anything that catches its attention. I don’t know why it’s called earl grey. It didn’t look grey and it didn’t have a strong aroma. Pearl, who is well-traveled, told us about the size of the meals they serve in the US and the charming teas the Brits make for breakfast. My mouth watered as I listened to her narration. Two things: I want to go abroad even more; Pearl should be a travel writer. The Lass will make a good Lara Croft and Pearl the female version of Marco Polo.
Chocolate. Now you see it, now you don't.The television screen in the restaurant flashed fashion shows. I glanced at the TV from time to time at the bevy of beauties – the two girls must think I am an animal. Hey, all guys are shallow! We talked about TV shows and I discovered one thing. Pearl and the Lass go for quality in the drama shows. I judge quality by the number of babes in the show. I reiterate my point: all guys are Shallow Hals, and I daresay more than a few are proud of it!
Stunning. Absolutely spectacular.It was a pity the other atheists couldn’t join us. Since the intellectuals like to talk about evolution and all that multi-level selection stuff, they would have gained a deeper appreciation had they joined us. Sitting down in a café and speak of evolution and how animals evolve and adapt is akin to a general discussing military tactics based on what is written on a piece of paper. Rhetorical and nothing to the point. There are more things in Nature (I’m bastardizing Shakespeare’s famous quote) than they are in your philosophies. Rather sea turtles than Socrates, rather the canopy of the a tropical rain forest, than your solipsistic postmodernism, philosophical pluralism and whatever. The wild pig charging at me has greater bearing than your frivolous and pretentiously constructed postulations. The – you get my point.
Such majesty...In the words of the great Terminator: “I’ll (We’ll) be back.” For me, three locations summed up our trip: the railway, the ditch, and the restaurant. We set off for Nature, but we found man-made structures. Ironic, but true.
The Lass did my nails on the bus. My first manicure! I’m so excited I just can’t hide it I’m so excited….
Left Hand
Right Hand
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