Where to begin with such a wonderful city? Maybe with the fact that I ate more satay in a week than I probably should in a year. Or maybe with the fact that every time I walked down a street, there was some obvious beauty to be found. There was art, there was nature, there was color and aroma. There were glorious lights and towering buildings, but also tiny pockets of calm where I could catch my breath (usually before finding my way to the next snack).
Singapore is the kind of place where you think you’re just heading out for a quick walk, and suddenly you’re staring up at futuristic trees that glow at night, or ducking into a temple courtyard so quiet it feels like you’ve stepped into a different city entirely. I saw skyscrapers that reflected in still water, street food that tasted better than anything I’ve paid triple for at home, and green spaces so lush they made me forget I was in one of the busiest cities in the world. That’s the thing about Singapore: it doesn’t really give you a break. The city is always whispering, “Look at this! Taste that! Isn’t this cool?” And I, of course, said yes to all of it.
I adopted a rule in Singapore: if I saw a mural, I had to take a picture of it. Same with colorful tiles; it didn’t matter how small or tucked away they were, my phone was out in seconds. By the end of the trip, my camera roll was basically 50% food, 40% walls and tiles, and 10% me squinting in the heat. Haji Lane in particular was dangerous for my photo obsession; I couldn’t walk ten steps without stopping to snap something new. Bright colors, abstract shapes, entire buildings turned into canvases.
But it wasn’t just Haji Lane. The whole city seemed designed with detail in mind. I’d wander through neighborhoods and spot tiled shophouse facades in pastel pinks and greens, each doorway different from the last. I started noticing staircases with patterned sides, and five-foot ways lined with tiles so carefully placed they felt like little mosaics. It made wandering around feel like a quiet game of discovery, where every street corner had a surprise waiting if you just slowed down enough to notice.
If there was one part of Singapore I could never get enough of, it was the hawker stalls. They’re everywhere, tucked into centers that buzz with life at all hours of the day. At first, it felt overwhelming; rows of stalls, each with its own specialty, menus taped to the walls, lines forming in front of the most popular ones. But very quickly, I realized that part of the fun was diving in, following the smells or the longest queue and trusting that whatever I ended up with would be worth it. And it always was.
Chicken rice was the first thing I tried, and I immediately understood why it’s considered the national dish. It looks deceptively simple, just poached chicken, rice, and a little sauce, but it’s perfect in a way that doesn’t need any extra fuss. After that came laksa, steaming hot with a broth that was both comforting and fiery enough to make me break a sweat. Satay became a repeat order: smoky skewers grilled right in front of me, served with peanut sauce that I inevitably spilled on myself. And then there was mango sticky rice, my favorite dessert of all time, that made my eyes widen every time I spotted it. Sweet, juicy mango paired with chewy rice and coconut cream was the perfect finish to any meal, even if I wasn’t technically hungry anymore. I kept thinking I’d stick to one or two favorites, but every time I walked through a hawker center, something new caught my eye.
It wasn’t just the food that made the hawker centers special, though. It was the atmosphere. Families crowded around tables, workers grabbed quick lunches and tourists, like me, wandered with wide eyes. The air was thick with the smell of frying, grilling and simmering, and the clatter of trays and bowls was constant. There was a rhythm to it that made it feel like more than just a place to eat.
When I visited Gardens by the Bay, the weather wasn’t exactly on my side. During the day, it was raining hard enough that everyone in Singapore seemed to have had the same idea: retreat indoors. The domes were a bit crowded, with umbrellas dripping at the entrance and long winding lines wrapping around plant formations. But everything was orderly, even in the midst of the less-than-perfect conditions.
Inside the Cloud Forest, I was instantly taken by the massive indoor waterfall, which was impossible to ignore (as I also got sprinkled by the constant mist being thrown into the air). I joined the flow of people moving up the spiraling paths, stopping at different levels to peer through the glass or look down at the plants covering the mountain-like structure. It wasn’t necessarily peaceful, but it was fascinating, and the sheer scale of it meant my walk-through lasted long enough for the weather outside to clear up by the time I was done.
I proceeded to make my way over to the Flower Dome, which had a totally different energy. It was still busy, but less overwhelming, and I could wander a little more freely. What impressed me the most was the variety of flowers displayed. In one corner, I was admiring the flowers of South America, and a few steps later, I was surrounded by flowers native to Africa. The flowers were so neatly arranged they almost looked staged for photos, but the effect was still beautiful. It was a strange but enjoyable experience, walking past so many different climates in a single loop.
By evening, the rain had completely stopped, and I headed out to the Supertree Grove. Seeing them in daylight had already been impressive, giant steel-and-plant hybrids towering over the gardens, but at night they came alive. After finding a spot to lie down (which was quite difficult considering the insane amount of people populating the area underneath the trees), a wonderful light show began. To my absolute delight, the show wasn’t just pretty colors flashing in the dark; it felt like a tribute to Singapore itself. The music and lights highlighted pieces of the country’s culture, from traditional sounds to modern beats, weaving them together in a way that reflected how layered the city really is. Standing there under the glowing Supertrees, surrounded by people from all over the world, it felt like we were all celebrating Singapore together.
By the time my trip came to an end, I realized how impossible it was to capture all of Singapore in a single visit. Between wandering streets filled with colorful tiles and murals, getting lost (in the best way) among hawker stalls, and standing under the glowing Supertrees, I knew I had only scratched the surface of everything the city had to offer. Every corner held a small surprise, every meal left me craving the next and every garden or building reminded me how much thought and care had gone into making the city both beautiful and welcoming.
I would go back in a heartbeat, just to wander the streets again, to eat my way through the hawker centers, to watch the Supertrees light up against the night sky, and to keep finding new corners of the city I hadn’t discovered yet. Singapore left a mark on me, and I know it’s a place I’ll want to return to, over and over.